Daily globe., 1882-08-13
BURIED IN THE FLAME.
BY COULTER RUXTON.

out of his large blue eyes, in which
there slept the spirit of good-nature, he
shot rays of fun into the dark, flashing
ones of his companion-''it is very
true" he repeated, 81 wasn't born with
silver spoon in my mouth, as the say
ing is, Notwithstanding l was blessed
from the moment / saw the bright sun
with reasonable share of good luck.
When l came into this beautiful world,
Kathleen-rnade all the more pleasant
by your presence, mavourneen-the
cats didn't NEW, nor the dogs bark-a
sure sign, the old lady said who attend
ed ON my advent, that my days would
pass in peace, and that the love of my
heart ID be safe in that of the girl who
was born to be my helpmeet-a true
friend through all my life.''
"Ahr' said the beautiful Kathleen,
with smile and toss of her small,
splendidly-poised head, ''and have you
found her yet, Mr.. Fitzgerald?'
"By my faith, l have" said Edgar,
smiling. "She's all that my dreams
ever painted me in the form of wo-
man. / love her, Kathleen. All, if
you only knew how deep down in my
heart she has buried herselfI'
.'Then no angel with his trumpet
calling to judgment will ever resurrect
herr'
Il hope not, Kathleen, hope not
Why should the darling E9-le out Of
her home into cold worldt"
''To get q little air and exercise"
"Well answered, young lady. But
Pm afraid, should the skittish, timid,
nervous creature ever get away, there'd
be no catching her again"
"Then she's prisoner, Mr.. Fitzger-
ald?'
''She is, and again she is not, Kath-
leen. You ought TO know"
Il! How should I?''
"Misery! She wants me TO answer
what's impossible for man"
''But how can woman 60 and bury
herself in u mans heart, and then be
and not be at liberty to do as she
pleases?"
Women are born logicians now,"
exclaimed Fitzgerald, with quizzical
look. 81 always thought when a pretty
Sheteen loved man, that she didn't care
about ranging the commons, and try
luS ~ willy pOOI ucNllS lOI WuOu sic
didn't care ha'porth."
"And who do you love, and who do
you imagine loves you?'
Fitzgerald laughed, and stood up.
He was splendid specimen of young
manhood, and the girls eyes had a
warm, soft fire in them as she looked
upon him.
"And you want me to answer your
perplexing double question P'' he
asked
81 shouldn't have asked it if | didn't
think you mannerly enough to answer
me- she returned.
Then Eli answer you by repeating
one name twice. It's Kathleen-Kath.
leenr
The girl turned away her head and
suppressed sigh.
She did indeed love Fitzgerald-more
ardently, more devOtedly than he sup
posed. But there WAS ono whom che
loved as dearly, N another sense, rs her
young admirer. That one was her
father. There had been o feud between
the Fitzgeralds and tho Fawcetta for
generations. and until now the wooing
by n son of the one the daughter of The
other had never happened, Kathleen
felt that great gulf, an lmp.tssable
abyss, was between them. which neith-
er could cross.
'Kathleen," abruptly spoke Fiizrer-
aid, "don't let us handy words You
know that love you with all my heart
and soul; that / would lay down my
life if it would please you in any way.
You know that. Now, girl, why not
speak plain. Tell me you hate me, if
you dare-love me. if yon can
Edgar she whispered, going to his
side, and placing one of her little hands
on one of his shoulders, '.you know that
it cannot be. What if l did say that !
loved you?. 1t would profit you moth
ing. Do You think our love for each
other would wash out forever the bitter
hatred-foelish as it is-that for centu-
ries has divided our peoplep Love?
We who are born sworn enemies, lovep
No, Edgar. Twill tell you l do love
you. No one else has my heart but
you. But what avails it? Get my
fathers consent, and 1 will leap into
your arms. He would shoot you down
as he would q mad dog if he thought
you cared for me''
II know. I know, darling, all-all
that. But I'll pray and hope. There's
something tells me, Kathleen that our
souls will yet be united"
He stopped and kissed the beautiful
girl.
'.Pll wait and pray, too, Edgar" she
replied, and then went away in the di-
rection of her home, thinking, dream
ing, shuddeling.
Edgar Fitzgerald passionately loved
the dark-eyed Kathleen, but the bitter
feud which had so long made the an
cestors of both generations uncompro-
missing enemies, placed them, as the
girl had thought and often said, so far
apart that there seemed no hope of
peace being declared between the fami-
lies. Thns the young man unused as he
lay in his bed, the windows of the room
in which it was looking out upon the
homestead of the Fawcetts quarter
Of mile distant-the old moss and ivy
covered stone house in which Kathleen,
the only daughter of the family, slept,
and mayhap in her dreams wandered
through grassy. flower-carpeted dells
Il