The daily Cairo bulletin., 1882-06-15

hung that mothers picture, away from
the rest of the Burton's, OF whose faces
Roy's pleased Jeanie best. There was
something in the brilliant. proud, and
yet kindly brown eyes that made her
pity him, He had loved her mother, and
she (.Jeanie always sighed here) had be-
trayed his love.
The old wound in Jeannette Burton's )
heart had healed, and Harry was utter
ly forgotten in the deep, womanly love
which, in her maturer years, she gave
TO Capt. Wittmore. He, grave man
of forty, loved her as a man only once
loves. and his heart warmed as he read
her letter, asking him TO come to Burton
Hill, and telling him of its new inmate,
Jeanie Moore; and yet he shivered.
When he met the girl he seemed nerv-
Gus, and his face paled as he looked in
TO the bright eyes and took one little
hand.
$50 you are Jeanie Moore" he said.
"Yes."
Jeanie faltercd, with flushed cheeks
and downcast eyes, which did not es-
cape Miss Burton's notice,
Here are some views that arrived
yesterday from Scotland, Laurence, -"
she remarked. IF you will come into
the west parlor you can see them in a
good light
II mean to try the picture" the girl
whispered, when they left her alone.
Roy Burton's eyes would look lovely
sad. and | must try it. But why did he
come herep | thought he meant to stay
in France, where he was when we knew
him Well it cannot natter
But she found it did matter, when it
was too late. Capt Wittmore watched
Jeanie more than half the time, and
talked to her, it seemed. the other half,
Miss Burton grew anxious. Had not
Florence taken Harry from her? Was
it just for her child to win Laurence
Wittmore? No, no! Heaven was un-
kind to her.
1t was dark, stormy night in No
vember, the third month of Jeanie' s
stay at Burton Hill They had been sit
ting in the library, Jeanie apart from
the others, painting on head of the
watchdog, Hero, and Capt. Wittmore
and Miss Burton talking easily. and a
little confdentially, until the latter was
called away,
When she returned, some fifteen min
utes later, she found the captain bend
ing over Jeanie, who had risen, both of
her hands clasped in his.
"Jeanie, you will never tell her." he
was saying, and Miss Burton stopped.
"No, will be true TO you," was the
answer bravely given. "And she, dear,
good Miss Burton, will never, never
know"
"She does know" exclaimed the list
| ener, entering with square piece of
canvas in her hands. "You are false.
too, Jeanette Moore! False as Florence
herself, And now ask you to explain
this
She turned the canvas toward them.
and disclosed picture; a scene familiar
to them all, the lawn at Burton Hill,
and three figures there Miss Jeannette's
father. with paper in his hands, his
head bowed with grief-she herself
kneeling with her piteous face lifted to
the sky-while Roy stood at distance.
calm and white, with terrible agony
| in his brown eyes. This was Jeanie's
idea of how they had looked on that
dreadful morning, twenty years before.
and she had written, in tender, girlish
pity, the name, "Gloria's Desertion" in
one corner.
"You painted it?'
"Yes," Jeanie found voice to reply.
"You are false to me, to all! Now
take this vile thing and leave my house!
You are to wait for nothing-go imme-
diately! Win you stand aside, Lau-
rencep"
She seized the shivering form, led her
to the door. and put her outside. Capt.
Wittmore followed her.
"You are mad, Jeanette" he ex-
claimed, as the door closed on poor
Jeanie. "Let me explain. /"
You will not say q wordN The
brown eyes looked their defiance
"Neither viii You follow her until morn
ing. command it, and will see that
my commands are enforced"
| lHt illoIHlHp DIuhe CledT. ueunHcllc
Burton Stood,at the low window in the
library her sunken eyes turned without,
where figure toiled its way to the gate
of Burton Hill 1t was man. tall and
majestic, whose eyes never left the limp,
helpless figure he held.
Miss Burton threw open the window
as he approached.
"She cannot be brought heren' cried
| she
He lifted pair of dark, stern eyes to
her face. and stepped over the easement
with his burden, which he placed upon
the lounge by the CRATE. Poor Jcanie
was wet through, and utterly uncon-
scious. Her lashcs rested upon her
white cheeks, and her long, soft hair
fell like veil half over them
"You are Jeanette Burton?" the
stranger asked abruptly.
IL ann
"And she is
"Jeannette Moore"
"Florence Burton daughterP"
Eyes"
81 thought so; recognized the pict-
ure. 1t is sadly defaced. Do you know
what it isp'
He held up Jeanie's picture, all wet
and soilcd
81 do But who are youp"