Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1882-02-08
AFTER MANY DAYS.

A long luxurious room, ali wine color
and gold. Velvet carpets were under
foot: silken curtains draped the windows:
from cabinets of ebony cleaned exqui-
site gems OF chiseling; on the wall hung
delicious morsels of color, the chandelier
was all ablaze; in the wide steel CRATE an
anthracite fire leaped and sparkled with
innumerable reflections. Without, the
rain fell, the winds howled drearily, the
trees rocked and groaned this desolate
autumn night. Here, all was light and
warmth and luxury One of the massive
doors swung back and girl came into
the room-a little, slight, childish fig
ure, clad In a trailing blue silk dress, a
dainty, youthful face, with features a
trifie short for classic perfection, big,
azure eyes, cheeks like pink roses, and
pale gold ringlets falling in glittering
showers to her waist. She came over
to the mantel and stood, with idly
clasped hands. looking up at the picture
above it. Such a wonderfully handsome
face. olive-sklnned and Greek featured;
bright and reckless and boyish on the
whole; but one instinctively knew that
back of it lay an impulsive, passionate
temperament. So absorbed the girl
stood she did not hear the door upon and
and some one enter.
You won't to be positive you'll re-
cognIze him, Iva, laughed voice be-
lind her.
She turned swiftly, little shyly, her
face luminous,
The lady who had entered and now
stood regarding her with a happy,
quizzicl smile, though elderly, was
straight and imposing and stately. Her
s.ft satin robes swept the rlch carpet;
an exquisite morsel of Mechlin rested
ON her dark hair. One glance at her
face and grave eyes invoiuntarily rever-
ted TO the pictured one above the man
tel, but the face of the mother was as
that OF the son, aged and exaggerated,
colder, sterner Now. as she glanced
up at the cold young face of him who
was the last representative of grand
race, all the proud alteration of a moth
er came into the keen, old eyes, and she
could well say, with the Countess Dani-
chef. "For that name and that son,
everything. For the rest, nothing"
''What exquisite flowers, 1va!'
For Just where the foamy lace flowed
back from the girls slender throat, nest
led cluster of pink, fragile, hot house
blossoms.
Yes; Mr.. Lawrence sent them.
'Mr. Lawrence, Take care, little
girllel Ny prophetic soul tells Inc that
Mr.. Lawrence viii grow great deal too
fond OF you if he is not that already. He
is a very wealthy man, dear-an honor
able gentleman-bu Cyril holds your
promise. Nothing; nothing" she rel
terated, almost passionately. '-shall
break that.
Dear Aunt Adelaide, am 1 likely to
forget it when / loved him so? Three
wears since he VENT was 10 then
and it has seemed ike three centuries.
.sHarA. how If storms. 1t is not omi-
nous of his corning home, however, dear
/ am going up to my room while, but
be sure | shall hear the first sound of
carriage wheels"
She left the parlor and Iva Russell
walked to the window, and drawing
aside the curtain looked out:
A dreary clustering November night.
The rain fell heavily, steadily, uncom-
promisingly; the wind walled and shrie-
ked like a thing in pain; the trees
writhed and flung their huge arms aloft.
For the girl who stood there, looking
out with such sweet, glad eyes, all the
ioy of the present. all the hopes of the
future, lay in three little words thrilling
through the heart and brain-''CYrll Is
coTuingI'
"Ahi'
She was turning away, when she
stopped short, with a terrible gasp. Her
blue eyes, dilated with fear, Were rlvet-
ed on the window.
Against it was pressed face as white
as the face of the dead. Wild dark eyes
travelling around the room, then fixed
themselves on her.
Even as their glance met, she sprang.
to the easement and flung it open with
cry of breathless. bewildered recogm.
ton.
Cyril, Cyril.'
The man came slowly, dazedly into
the glow. the light, the sparkle OF the
room. From his overcoat and slouched
hat the water dripped. His face was
that of the portrait above the mantel,
but woefully changed, wan and worn
ard haggard.
Iva" holding ont his hands with
sad weary smile, but not offering to kiss
her, .'dear little Iva!''
Cyril"
1t was Just whisper. Into her eyes
had crept vague dread.
Iva, where's your mother?'
up stairs"
She could only answer mechanically
and in monosylables.
What different home coming to that
which she had expected.
sYou-you got my letter! You were
expecting me?" nervously. with swift
Glance around the bright, coy room and
hack to the little silk robed figure be-
fore him; "but oh. Iva, Iva!''-the words
breaking from him passionately. his
voice hoarse and shaking-''you were
cot expecting my wife.
Your wife,"
my wife. :,
He f,ung himself on his knees beside
her low chair He caught her SOIL
parking hands in his own fierce grasp.
and then he bowed his handsome, nag
gard face upon them. II
"Listen. Iva, ,"-breathiessly, rapidly
at was in London l met her. We Doar-
ded at the same house She was an
English girl who supported herself ana ana
her invalid father by teaching. one
night the house took fire. My room was
in remote part; and the firemen could
not or would not find it. She led them
through the rain of sparks, aud flame,
and falling timbers, till they burst open
my door and dragged me out. unconsci-
Gus. She bears the marks o. those burns
to this day.
In carrying me out was struck by a