The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1883-10-24

IKE tHdL-l indD NltilOut IHteliSCb VT lOEte
IF characterl No; / accepted his atten-
tions as would have done those Of the
first man who came in my way"
"Why?"
because it was necessary-because l
was mad-because / had in my heart.
and have still a guilty love that l must
uproot, it matters not at what plice9"
She had risen, and stood in front of him,
her eyes looking into his.
A guilty love, What did she mean2
Frank was afraid to ask, for he guessed
by her look. by her attitude. that some
thing terrible was in store for him; but
his self-aSsemed position of judge com
PEELED him to ask.
who Is isf- he said slowly.
She answered him in low subdued
voiice-
-Y0u know very well that mean your
sslfs-
She was his brothers. wife. For two
years he had thought of her only as sis
ter. She hardly bore trace Of reseni-
blance now to his former fancee, and, in
his eyes, it would have been almost a
crime to recognize in her single feature
of the young girl to whom he had so often
whispered, 81 love you" And now ii was
she who said she loved him.
The unhappy, bewildered judge stood
silent
She, opposite. waited for him TO speak.
1t was one Of those warm. moist days Of
early summer. when the air is laden with
the perfume of flowers and shrubs, the
sweet Voice Of Madame lola Heated
through the air and from below came the
gentle murmur of the river.
L.
said Sylvia Il renowned this love in girl
ish ignorance, hu, il has grown with my
growth, When | found that Dora loved
YOU alSn, thought Of the glory of self
sacrifice. and Of her misfoitunes, and de-
terminci To make her happy; 50 repnls-
ed You in ORDER that yea might turn to
her But as soon as You were gone |
found that | had overcstimated my own
strength Poor little Dora! Will you be-
lieve That | have hated her ever since
The very sight OF her occasioned such
keen anguish that l have not been near
her for months"
.But, il you loved me-" asked Frank,
in low, half-frightened tones, "if yon
loved me, why did you marry my broth
err
She did not vince.
40 marry William was to bring myself
nearer YOU. ! said to myself: Il cannot
be his wife, but can be his sister; in that
way may still care for him, and shall not
i've n life utterly apart from his Alas
.hese were the simple struggles of a
young girl. the folly OF which only expert
snce can teach us | could not love you
with sisterly affection, Frank; neither
could | forget you Perhaps, with anoth-
=. l,.nI.a..l ~, xV,lIi.,n 7 ,,,i,rbf boya
lone so; but he talked to me constantly of
You. And then, worst Of all, your brothers
voice, step, ways, all resemble yours; the
likeness haunted me. | determined to
seek some distraction; my life was so mo-
notonous. and gave me too much time for
thought. / offer no apology for myself; l
simply state the bare fact of my utter
misery. listened TO George; but swear
that in all this whiIl OF excitement into
which | have been drawn, / have never
ceased to think Of you; and, if anyone has
the right To lac my aceuser, it is certainly
not you. Frank, who have made me-un-
it is tiue-what | am
She stopped. ehoked by tears.
Frank dared not look Mt her. The mis-
cradle man felt that his former passion
had revived. rekinlled by her burning
words. Neither did he dare to speak, for
he felt, if he opened his lips, wordsof pity
and of passion would escape.
lie turned away in silence. AS he
reached the door Sylvia darted after him
and seized his hand. Hers was soft and
warm, his icy cold. At that moment Will
liam's tall figure passed the window.
..They must he here, Mr.. Chipp." he
said gaily, '.for we looked into the arbor."
So saying he entered the summer-house,
accompanied by his father and mother-in-
law
Mrs. Chip, who had always been very
fond of Frank, welcomed him cordially;
and her husband said, in most patroniz-
ing tone:
sand how are Egyptian Bonds looking
just now 7"
Florence talked loudly Of killing the
fatted calf for the prodigal, and then
shouted TO the singing mistress:
"Madame Zola Do, please, sing some-
thing little more lively, or play us
waltz, for my mother-in-law and ] are
dying for dance"
civilian are you quite crackedr cried
Mrs. Chip, as her son-in-la drew her
along the gravel walk in wild dance, for
the good fellow was quite intoxicated with
joy.
For Frank the day was one inteiminable
agony. Egypt and his brothers invention
were talked of until he failed to grasp the
meaning of n single sentence. Sylvia was
very silent, and seemed wrapped in her
own thoughts; and Frank, without daring
to look at her, watched her scarlet silk
sunshade, and the undulations of her
white drapery. How she had changed in
these last two years! But had she i'm
proved? Then horrible idea occurred
to him. He had seen painted, made-up
women driving low pony carriages in the
park. and had heard them, called ''Anon-
yma." Sylvia looked like these crea-
lures; Sylvia could have driven Georges
horses in that same way. Frank startedl
Was he not at that moment in Georges
housed Had he not drunk his wine2 And
did not all the luxury by which he was at
that moment surrounded come from
Georgci
1t was shameful, terrible! He owed it
TO himself to expose the tissue of dccep-
tons to his brother. Had he not come for
thatl But his courage was gone.
In the evening, after dinner, Florence
urged his wife 80 sing. He was anxious
that she should exhibit all her new ac-
complishments to his brother.
Sylvia begged TO be excused, but ma
dame tossed her little French head, and
seated herself ut the piano to play the ac-
compartment.
"What do you wish me to sing2 But
she ended by deciding for herself, In the
pickering light OF the candles, which
seemed to exhale perfume with their light
so intense was the odor from the garden
of roses and lilies, Sylvia sang strange
little French melody, with quaint provin.
cial words, which had been arranged by
Mamade lola.
Pauvre petite Maamsellc Zizi,
Cest ramour, qui tournc la tete!
In narrating the fate Of poor little Zizi
who had been driven mad by love, Sylvi;
herself assumed the air Of women car
iied away by passion. With the patheti
cry of wounded dove she took up tn
melancholy refrain:
Cest ramour, ramour, Qui tourne la tete
The siren had not been judicious in tn
choice of song. The name Of Zizi trans
ported Frank to the quiet room where sa
Dora de Lacy, she who had loved him S
patiently and so long. In her childhoo
she had been called Zizi, and the singe
seemed to be extolling her charms an
her fidelity. Again he was beside hel
waiting for the tardy coming of her faith
er. Yesl it was there and only Their,
E,.ook said "a hinself that he cnnld find