The Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1877-1885, 1883-04-05

Il NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.. earnest WO
| man.
My uncle, Edward Earl, had procur
Ell me the friendship CD of the lady il
| whose house had passed a twelvemontl
Mrs. Lucien Granger, a distant cousin
OF his own | was an unsalaried gov
efneSs or companion, our remote cousin
ship being always made available by
| my uncle. TWAS during my residence
| with that lady that my fate came to me-
A young nephew of Mrs Granger's
came to the hail He was an artist,
young and handsome, and fresh from 8
four years soiourn in Rome
need not weary lSouwith the prologue
| or the epilogue of our love. for words are
so poor TO express the heart j ntteranee
. golden dayst q tender. passionate
nights o princely heart. come back to
mel
Alan Leighton was the last son of a
highborn family, and because of the
blue blood the united blood of all the
Towards flowing in his veins, Mrs.
Granger interposed her fiat against our
love, dreading. doubtless, the plebe.an
admixture of mine.
1t is n pity that blood does not al
ways tell twas an inglorious triumph
to me-yet still triumph-to bare my
white arms to the shoulder during our
gala nights-to which my voice was al
ways invited contrasting their satiny
smoothness and perfect contour with
the lean, brown appendages Mrs. Gran
ger folded over her aristocratic heart.
But cloud crept into the sky, and its
shadow fell across our path.
Alan was called suddenly by telegram
to England, where his grand old father
lay dying. We had but moment for
our farewells, for Alan's heart was rent
with sorrow, and | helped to expedite
his departure.
But one letter ever reached me. His
father was dead, and he was Sir Alan
now.
MY PRECIOUS HELEN: NV father. whom
loved and respected above all men, died yes
terday. l need not tell you how desolate we
feel, and how thelight seems to have died out
of every nook and corner. My dear mother is
Frustrated with the blow which has taken away
the lover OF her youth, and l shall not be able
our betrothal, dearest, to my aunt and uncle
which, you know, was my intention the very
darling Helen, as | shall be true to you. Good
night, dear love. | shall write at lepg tn so
soon as the mother and [ have matured our
plans for her lonely future. Goodnight, good
night May angels guard you, and may the
good Father fold about you His everlasting
" '''-' ' 'N'''' ''' ALAN LEIGHTON.
Two years had dragged their slow
lengths along since that letter came, and
had never heard from Alan, though
craving his presence as the prisoner
Graves the sunshine. / had written him
once, and [ had regretted even that.
He was soon to be welded to an Earl's
handsome daughter" Mrs. Granger
read aloud from an open letter in her
hand; ''in fact, it was an old affair, prior
/, - IL Ill
How | regretted [ had written, though
the words had been few, merely asking
if he had been enabled to procure me
certain book we had made mention of
together, and the time was more than a
year ago when | had the right thus to
address him. And now! @ pitiful
Christ! another woman was to be his
wife, and | must never think of the old
days, or the old dreams, or look into |
his dark eyes, or feel his kisses upon my
lips! Never! and might live |
fifty years.
And o the pity of it, out of all this
worlds million possibilities I had only |
the chance of two-either to wed Regin- |
aid Dacre. a man old enough to be my |
father. or to be companion to some |
naughty woman. [ had decided upon |
Mr.. Dacre. The tiny note of |
barely two lines L had placed between
he leaves of a~book il was his nightly |
custom to read
But Alan! but Alan! l had thought |
him so true, so noble. / had called him
my prince, my king, alone in the |
warm dusk under the stars.
Il will not soil thy purple with my |
lust, l had whispered in my heart
Nor breathe my poison on thy Venice
glass" | went down to the
sea to listen to its sullen roar; hear it
ell its tale of human misery; of fair
aces dead under its waves; of gold and
ewels lying on green beds of moss; of
lrgosies gone down, the wall of human
misery their requiem. | tried to re-
member all this, so that mine might not
eem such great thing amid a world
If sObbing and tears. 1t was a good
hing to think OF the sutferings of others,
md try to ignore your own; a good
hing. But, my miseryi the misery of
he girl called Helen Preston!
This girl was somewhat of a genius,
he people said. She possessed the gift
# song and she was handsome, too, men
aid And she had two chances in the
Yorld. aud if she had possessed money
enough to have utilized her gift of song
he might have had three.
But she had smirched her soul, for all
ler beauty and gifts; had been falae TO
lerself. TO God and humanity; false, too
o Reginald Dacre, for she kept her love
or Alan locked in her heart.
81 have sold my soul for houses and
ands,' she said land | am wretched,
Mea culpa! Mea culpa!"
Il have sold myself with open eyes,
,he said. knowingly, with malice pre-
lense. | have no one to blame. That
Alan forgot his vows did not make it
light that | should forswear myself
But the sea. with its fuss and fret +
made my heart ache, and the turbulent
water seemed wooing me thitherward
Tine chimes of our quaint old church,
)layinT an old song, caused choke in
ny tiloat. | would go and invoke
grand airs from the organ, and mayhap
shonld forget the seas roar.
1t was my wont to go there to prac-
ice, and | knew the service would not
be held for n half hour. The lights
we're turned down to semi-darkness,
md the old sexton, with whom | was a
'avorite. had left the key in the door for
ne. The moon shone across the organ
KEYS and across my face; and the trail
NO folds of my white dress looked al
most ghastly in its light o quaint old
church! O quaint old chimes! Too
;oon | would be far away from you,
over the sea to my suitor's lordly home, I
with me a heavier heart than my
years should warrant
Ri1f IL yvaG too late tn look hack. and