Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1881-01-06
CHAPTER VII.

| lIdU CNOhlllS opShV oo UAiS Ao"Sio @'-
: ished all such doubt from his mind He Il
2 longer cared to disguise from himself the fa'
? that he loved her-loved her with force an
| intensity that mastered his whole being. II
did not resist this new, overwhelming powe
J but rather yielded himself to it with deligh
| It became the one object of his thoughts, til
sole consideration which usurped the place {
all other interests, all other aims. Not tina
he tagged in his church duties. On the col
!, trary, he applied himselflto them with fres
assiduity, for his conscience would not haV
allowed him any rest if he hadneglected then
and with IN uneasy conscience his happlnes
in the new aim of life would have been marreC
Now. when he had read and studied for Il
allotted length of time and given suficiell
attention to the preparation of his sermon TO
the ensuing Sunday, he could yield himsel
without restraint to the dreams and hope
with which he built himself beautiful fabri
for the future. \ fabric with but an unsul
stantial foundation, but which, in these earl
ardent days, looked fair and strong to hin
through the glamour which daZzled his eyes
He longed to throw himself at Miriam's feet
to discover whether she knew and returne
his love but he dared not try the experiment
vet. Too much eagerneSS, too much preclpl
tation might ruin his chances Of success
Rather would he wait, and try by gradua
! Il6ttllS W dlIlNS uloCoNSAy W. "iiteo ~
so desired to find out. He visited often a
the Towers-so often that at last people begal
to find it out, and to comment accordingly
And Miriam did not forbid him. She took
strange pleasure in his visits. His presence
was like sunshine coming into her life, lit
| that had been so dark and so drear He was 81
ardent, so frank. All his impulses were 81
generous. all his ideas so unlackneyed, 81
fresh. TO listen to him, to watch his candle
face. seemed to freshen and revive her owl
cold, crushed heart, to fill it with warmth ant
light 1t was a qualification she could no
deny herself She learned to watch for. hi
coming with joy. She did not, would moi
pause to consider whether she was doing right
to ask herself what would come OF it all. Ant
vet, had she so paused Surely if she had al
atom of conscience left, it would have forced
her to forbid him her house-to forbid hin
ever to look upon her face again.
At last she did say to him one day, with a
strange tremor and blush
''Mr. Hope, you must not come here sc
often. | am afrad-I knOw-tllat people
think it strange. | know that remarks have
already been made.''
"And why should care for that p he i'm
petuously cried. 'Lady Hepburn, if you per-
NIT my visits-if they are not distasteful to
You-what does it matter to Inc what other
people think -
She shook her head.
but it ought to matter to you. You must
not do anything to bring unpleasant remarks
upon yourself; to compromise your position
Compromise What a word to use! DO
compromise my position by loving you % he
burst forth. The declaration was made. Tie
felt as if he had suddenly and without pre-
meditation leaped over a mighty yawning
gulf, and now stood trembling, wondering at
his own daring, upon the other side.
Miriam turned from him, clasping her
hands. "You do not mean it-you cannot
mean it, she said in strange, stited voice.
Don't say it again!'
"And why should I not say it again Lady
Hepburn forgive me. l know am
very presuming. very rash; but I could not
have helped saying those words just now, after
what you had told, if had known / must die
for my presumption. know there is a wide
difference between us
ga difference! Yes, there, is difference
indeed; you know not how great. But not in
the way YOU mean, she hurricliiy added.
Don't talk of presumption that is all non
sense. But you must not speak to me OF love.
There is no such thing for me in this world y
. "There is-there is. 1t is here in my heart,
and you can never drive it OUT" he passion
ately rejoined, as he seized her unwilling hand,
and pressed his lips to it again and again. 81
loved you from the first moment / saw you,
and can never love any one else-never ;
never !"
''Poor boy poor boy !"
There was an infnity of pity in her voice
an infnity of anguish too. Cyril could not
fathom her thoughts not read the
struggle that was going on in her heart ; but
he did read in her face the signs of some i'll
describable inward torture, too profound for
him to understand or alleviate. Could it be
grief for the dead alone that moved her thus
''Miriam! Is a memory-a shadow of the
past-always to stand between us? Would
you let it destroy my life?" he cried. ''Oth-
ers have loved and lost, and loved again. l
would not have intruded upon your sorrow
had | not known how long time had passed
since you were called upon to bear it. Had |
not hoped that the lapse of years had sufficient
ly softened it"
'The lapse of years." she interrupted, 'can
never soften nty trouble. / must bear it with
me to my grave"
"And have you no pity for me 2 Have you
no faith in the power of my love to shed some
brightness on your desolate life? Miriam, l
ask for so little. I only want to be near you,
to have the blessing OF your presence to cheer
and help me on with my work, to be all inspi-
ration to me- 1 will be your slave-will do all
you command me, and seek only what you
choose to give me in return. Let me love you,
or shall die.'
Great heaven! And do you, then, really
love me in this way - she asked, turning to
him with wonder in her eyes, blending with
the anguish they still expressed"
"Ah if l could only tell you. If you could
only guess how much %
4 4 F,%o
way 20 she cried, passonately. "Why should
life }? Have / not enough to bear already, that
this additional burden should be laid upon
Inc ~
''Do not mar lido not destroy it. BE, in
stead, it's crowning blessing and happiness.
On Miriam, only grant my prayer, and earth
will hold nothing else for me to wish for'
my poor boy, you are so ignorant. You
know not what you ask. The prize you covet
is worthless What yoW wish to attain would
turn to Dead Sea fruit in your grasp. My love,
if I should give it to you, would bring you no
blessing with it, but rather a curse.'' She
shuddered as she spoke, and drew lHr hand
away. But Cyril, in the blindness and eager
ness of his desire, did not half listen to her
words, and certainly did not half understand
them. He was bent upon cOnquering her OBJ
JectlOnS; upon proving 10 ner tllaL IL was llel
own mistaken fancy which erected this barrier
between them.
''Miriam," he persisted, "tell me this one
thing Could you love me, if your past love
! if the memories which haunt you-did not
stand in my way p
She glanced at him for an instant, and a
softened look came into her eyes. Yes. ''shc
TREMENDOUSLY answered. "Yes-I could"
Full of ardent delight, he again caught hel
hand in his and kissed it. 'Since you admit
that,' he exclaimed, ''banish the memory
from your heart. Let not the dead past crllsl
and blight the living present. You coUld love