The Highland weekly news. [volume] (Hillsborough [Hillsboro], Highland County, Ohio) 1853-1886, 1881-05-12
SIR HUBERTS WIFE.

''Then you will give her to me, Mrs.
Trevor?''
''MOst willingly, Sir Hubert" and
Mrs. TrevOr's handsome, patrician face
flushed with glow of qualification as
she signiied her consent to Sir Hubert
GlyndOn's prayer for her daughter s
hand, ''believe me, there is no one
would more willingly trust with Lillian S
happiness"
A deep breath of relief escaped Sir
Hubert, but his face darkened and
clOuded over 4 little as he spoke again.
''It shall be the object of my life to
prove that your trust is not undeserV-
ed" he said, ''if Lillian accepts me"
''Ifr' Mrs. Trevor broke in, with a
slight accent Of surprise. ''Why do
you doubt it?''
81 hardly dare hope" he answered.
''She is so young-I am so much her
senior-and 1 have fancied sometimes
that it is selfish in me to wish to bind
our lives together, that
"Ah! why will you do yourself so
much injustiCe" said Mrs. Trevor, in
terrupting him once more, q little petu-
lantly, for she could not understand his
scruples. ''She is but a child, certainly,
with q child's heart-my little Lillian!
You need have no fear, Sir Hubert. She
loves you now. When you are her hus-
band, she will love you better"
So spoke Mrs. Trevor, Lilian's moth
er, and she believed that she spoke for
her daughters good"
True, there had been o foolish rO-
nance connected with the summer lust
past. A stroIing artist had been struck
by the sweet hower-faee, and had asked
permission to transfer it to his canvas.
The foolish mother bad consented. She
deemed Lillian indeed only a child.
Through long ,sunshiny hours she and
the artist had strOlled together, or she
had sat patient while he had painted
the young, lovely face, until one day,
or rather Just in that wonderful time
when day was notyet ended, and evening
has begun mingling its shadows with
the feeting sUnbeams - little Lillian
listened with q fast beating heart, to q
story new and strange.
This artist loved her, and wished her
for his wife. She heard with the tim
idity Of the timid fawn his passionate
expressions of endearment. They
frightened even while they filled her
soul with tumultuOus Joy.
81 will teach you to love me, little
one" he had said. Come, will YOU
not 90 with me to your mother, that I
may ask her to give you to me.
And shyly, with a crimson blush, she
had placed her little futtering hand in
his, and let him lead her whittier he
would.
She had hardly had time to realize
her Joy before it had ended; for her
mother had listened in frowning amaze.
The artist was poor. He had but his art
and his ambition. What were both to
balance Liian's dover?
'sTake courage, darling, and be true
to me-" he whispered, in his short
leave-taling. 81 90 to make the for
tune 1 have hitherto despised, but
which now I cOvet for your sweet sake.
With it I will return to claim you. Let
me find you little Lillian"
And the child, amid her sobs, had
promised all he asked.
Yet now-now, when the little green
blades Of grass were springing up, to
hide from sight the bare brown earth,
and the birds singing to each other
their love songs in the trees, and the
breath of spring heralded the coming
of another summer, her mother had
come to her and said:
81 have found a lover for you Lillian.
He is good and rich, my child. See
to it that you do not mention to him
last years folly"
"a lover, mammal the girl had an
swered. "Oh, have you fOrgotten2"
81 have forgotten all, as must you.
You will obey me, and later you viii
thank me-"
The young face grew very pale.
'sIs it not honorable that he should
know, mammaP' Lillian had said.
''He shall hear all that IS necessary
from me"
"He will notwant me-" thought the
girl, ''when he knows that have no
love to give him..
And the color crept back to her cheek
at the rolief the thought brought re-
lief short lived; for that very evening
Sir Hubert GlyndOn took in his own
warm, strong grasp her two little cold
hands, and, drawing her to him, stoop-
ed and kissed her brow.
q She looked up into his face. 1t was
not a handsome face. He was not a
Young lover. A full score of years di-
vided him from his girl sweetheart; but
it was a good face-a true face-and in
it one could read the love he bore her.
At the mute, questioning, pitiful look
in her dark eyes, a pang had shot into
her honest heart, and it was the men,
Ory of this look which led him to her
mother, who thus had answered him.
"She has loved no one else?" he said.
Mrs. Tremor smiled a little scornful-
" at the question.
"a moment since, I told you she was
but child. 1t is for you to waken her
sleeping heart"
Her words and his own great love
chased away the last doubt.
He was very tender during the short
space of time that elapsed before the
wedding. Sometimes he would appear
a little grieved that Lillian would shrink
even from his slightest earess, but he
chided himself for it. Perhaps when
she was his wife-his very own-she