The Portland daily press., 1883-01-27


derDess.
nisa month later. Thirty days-as cru
elly short as DAYS will ever be where happi-
ness reigns supreme have taken to them
selves wings and flown away.
1t is now high noon; already the day be-
gins to wane. The god of light grows
weary; "tired nature hats" The stream
lets are running YEARLY, as tn ugh fatgued
with the exertions of the day, now almost
past.
1T is the earih's siesta-eyen the bee
flags in his deep and dull monotony." All
the morning George Norwood has toiied
assiduously after his cousin at the Court;
has followed from greenhouses to conservs-
tories, from Conservatives TO orchards, the
woman he has been taught he must marry,
| If he wishes to keep up his good fellowship
with the world to which he has SO long been
| known. Now. when evening is descending,
he has escaped from his duty, and bias flung
| himself with deepest, intensest relief at the
| feet of the woman he ought not to marry,
with whom, indeed, marriage will mean So
| cial extinction.
He met her half an hour ago in this little
! shadowy valley, where the dying snnbeams
are playing at hide and seek among the
branches of the trees, and where tiny riVu-
| let is ltsping and stammering as ii runs lazl-
ly over its PEBBLES.
| Monica. having thrown aside her huge
white hat, is sitting on little mound, with
| her back against beech tree. She has TAX
| en- her knees into her embrace, and just now
| is looking at her cousin from under heavily
| dashed lids, that seem barely able to support
| themselves, so languorous is the hour, anu so
contented her spirit.
Her companion can scarcely he said to be
looking as free from care as she is; there is
| IT. arsr, in, h
| his manner is somewhat tiDged with de-
preston very foreign to it, which as rule
| is of the deboDnaire order.
Anything the matter with youT' asks
Monica at last.
eyes, any amount of things"
s'Well-go on-say them all over--it
will do you good, suggests she sympatheti-
| cally
ssNot for worlds-at least. not for many
reasons. 1t would bore you; it wouldn't GU Z
my case, and BESIDES" with a half laugh
my worries are of the kind difficult to put
| into speech"
"That means they are nothing but fan
cies."
| docs it?'' Then leaning hack and plac-
ing his hands behind his head. he turns his
eyes slowly upon hers. II wish had never
come down here" he says deliberately.
"Whatr' cries she, leaning toward him
"Has Julia proved unknd? or is it kind
Won't she marry you? Or will she?"
'.Nonsenser' said Mr.. Norwood grufiy. Il
wasn't thinking of Julia"
| "No? Then why are you sorry you came
to the Courtr'
Norwood at this regards her fixedly. 81
| WONDER" he says, in a curious tone, "wheth
er you really don't know, or whether you are
an accomplished coquettep'
Dent know whaL@' SKIS Monica, open
ing her large earnest eyes to their fullest, and
| looking at him with such sweet and honest
| surprise as wakes within his breast the
| deepest self-eontempt. How could he have
| doubted her, for even one short moment?
ITO be a coquette," she says in a little dig.
nified tone, requires, believe, practice.
| There is nobody down here except the rec
tor and Sir John Frere."
s'SIr John Frere?' apprehensively.
"Yes He is toothless and seventy-fve
The rector is hairless and sixty-one?' With
this she very properly turns her back upon
him.
"Thank goodnessP' said Mr.. Norwood de
voutly. He feels affectionate toward both
these old men--in spite of their abbreva
tions, and in spite of the fact that he has
never seen either of them. II beg your
pardon very humbly,' he says, after pause
full Of eloquence.
/ No reply.
''Monica-speab to me-
81 will not says Monica, giving herself
the lie direct.
ssOhi But you are speaking" declares he
'Tm awfully sorry said that, because il
was as absurd as it was objectionable"
Gas you acknowledge it to be unpardon-
able, you can't we'll look for my forgive
ness.''
Nevertheless do,n exclaims he boldly.
swell, then, say at once | am not CO.
| quette."
Certainly you are not. You are an
ang-. You are all you ought to be. You
| are
"'rhat will do" says Miss Monica, With a
mischievous glance; You Will overdo it II
| YOU go on any further. And now don't let
US quarrel any more. Tell me what you
wer. doing all the mornine."
'Lounging after Jalia."
Happy man! ] do so love that old Court
and l suppose she took you through the gar.
dens. Ii only my grandfather had behaved
properly, and left it to papa! Instead Of
which here we are, playing second where we
should be first"
ssWell, it's nearly as bad for me" says the
| young man moodily. 81 was brought ur in
/ the belief that, as your father was not in it,
| was to be the heir. And see now where
| am"
"You will be all right when you marry
julia" says Monica, with the friendliest en-
| couragement. But this encouragement falls
through.
"Oh, dare say" says Mr.. Norwood, I'M
| gratefully, and with an increasing gloom.
''But you can't be badly off. You must
have money now, too" says his cousin
with swift glance at his clothes, which are
| irreproachable.
"Not enough to keep me decently. My
mother left me 300 a year.
'sSeven hundred yearr' says Miss Nor.
wood, severely. II think no young man
could possibly require more than that You
have only yourself to think of-no other
expenses-no grown-up daughter to dress
and keep
'sWell, could hardly have that, You
know" says George Norwood, apologeti
cally. ~ won't be twenty-six until next
month";
| 81 was thinking of papa,-if he had 970C
year, how happy we should both bep'
''No,-you would instantly want more"
81 am sure not. That would give him all
| he requires,-'a house full Of bookss and a
| garden of fowers.'" She makes her quota
ton with a sweet, wistful smile that goes to
! his heart.
"And you,-what would 1t give you?n he
| asks earnestly.
"Me! On, should be happy enough in
his happiness replies she, lightly. 6 The
garden of flowers, you see, would be as
much mine as his. Now she says with a
litele rrepressible sigh, she hasn't even
enough money to buy some of the books in
which his soul delights"
'What are they'll mean the names?'
asks he eagerly, too eagerly! She raises her
soft eyes to his; there is gratitude in them,
but stern resolve too.
mo, no." she says, remember what you
said moment since-your income is not
sufficient for yourself. You shall moi waste
it upon u.s."
II don't think it is quite civil thing to
remember every word fellow says re-
turns George reproachfully.
"Well, we wont go into that" replies she
quickly Then as though some hidden
force compels her to return to the subject,
she says, "Tell me how you get on with
JuIia?''
VERY well, - impatiently. "She will look
all that is satisfactory at the head of ones
table. There is consolation, no doubt, in
that thought, as" bitterly, II suppose
must marry her."
"Oh, why say must?" gently, and with a
glance at him from under her long lashes.
sit is not hardship, surely?"
Perhaps l shouldn't have thought it so
month ago.
''ohe is Young handsome. that Ia all one