The Arkansaw traveler., 1883-11-17
4 LAKESIDE MUsINo.
Chicago Tnbune.l

Do you love me truly, harold =.
 Luriine Neversink was even more beau- tiful than usual as she stood in the sufi, mellow light that streamed from the chandelier overhead, and. looking down fondiy upon her, George W. Simpson fel, that to wreck forever the happiness of her young life, to plunge her soul into the turbid depths of despair and hold it there by the heels, were a crime than which none could be more black. He knew that this girl, whose weird, passion ate nature made her heart lute for every passing joy or grief to play upon, had given to him the one best love of wo- mans hfe-her first. It was something to be tenderly proud of. this love some thing not to be worn lightly on the sleeve where all might see it, but tucked care fully away in the woodshed of a mans soul, secure alike from carping criticism or cruel jest And yet as George w. Simpson gazed tenderly into the dark. lustrous eyes that were aglow with hope full expectancy. he felt that the maels.rom oi passionate adoration into which Lur- line Neversink had allowed herself to be drawn would one day cast her young hear, bleeding and torn upon the jagged rocks of his refusal. Is was terrible. maddening thought, and i: came with awful force 10 George as he stood Tn that palatial mansion. his feet sinking into the velvet carpet until he was in danger of becoming cock-ankled. and heard the words with which this chapter opens.
 Bending ,enderly over the girl, Geerge kisses her in chaste, New Haven, Conn. manner, bu, does not trust himself to answer in words the fa,eful question she has asked. And then they pass into the music-room, which is separated from the hall by portiere of navy-blue velvet. The windows of the room are shaded by curtains of the same rich color, and the walls between them are covered with paintings. Statues of Mozart, Beethoven, and Guido filled inches, while over the low man,el hung full-length portrait of line had seated herself at the piano, and then it was simply request that he hand her certain piece of music. As he stopped forward to comply the outlines ot his face were brought into strong re- lief against the ruddy background of his left ear, and Lurline gazed at him intent ly. His was such a countenance as one sees in old Italian portraits, in some Van dykes, showing power strangely blended with passion. His mouth, beautiful as a woman's, with its smile generous and rare as split eodfsh, was tightly com pressed and as bloodless as marble. His eyebrows, dark. straight, and finely pen ciled. met over his dark-gray eyes, and in the latter there was a fixed, resolu,e ex- pression that boded ns good to a square meal if he should happen to meet one.
 At last the music was found and Lur- line began to sing. Carried away by the inspiration of the moment. she sang on and on until at las, she paused from sheer exhaustion. And then, seeing that George was not a, her side. she turned to the fanteH,! at her Jeff. There he lay dead in all the proud grandeur of his glorious manhood. while on his forehead fell the golden dawning of grander day He had died al the moment when he was passing the stone ,ha, marks the lof,iest point on life's highway-died where rnanhood's morning almos, touches il, and while the shadows were falling to- wards the west. The mellow light from the chandelier stole into the hushed chamber of death and wandered over his stately form that lay powerless and stricken. over his noble, handsome face, telling, even in death of the dea,hless love he bore her.
 He had forgotten to plug up his ears, -fron' '' 2he .>i,ea nG n;e M. Se,. ht .nat |! Haisks2I