Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1884-05-02
retnrn ot 1he ennestrlans on /.

return OF The equestrlans on
leading from her house to Thornhill
Hall.
Yes! There they were, precisely as
people had said. George, her own
George no longer. perhaps. was riding
at the bridle-rein of the beautiful Miss
Kate Ilford.
He did not even see Lucy as they
passed by, though she stood gazing
sadly at him under dropping elm by the
wayside. But Miss Ilford, gorgeous
Egyptian princess that she was, saw,
and evidently recognized her rival.
Such a scornfully triumphant glance
as she cast on her, utterly ignoring the
pale and perfect loneliness of her face,
but taxing in each detail of her un-
fashionable attire-lingering over it
with that air of plying wonder with
which one woman knows SO well how
to crush another.
Nor was this all. As Lucy shrank
back under the dropping branches of
the elms, ashamed of herself, and still
more ashamed of her Quaker garb, a
second lady, more proud and imperi-
Gus, but not SO young or handsome as
Miss Ilford, refined her horse up by the
girls side.
you can see for yourself, Lucy
Gray, where my brothers heart is CIV
en-" she said harshly. "He loves Kate
Iford with all his soul, but he is a
man of honor, and he will never tell
her SO unless you set him free. And
that" she added scornfully, you will
never do, suppose. You will not lose
the chance of marrying the richest
man in the State. But l shall hate
you, always, Never will / call you
sister remember that! And when
you enter Georges home leave it. |
will countenance no low born beggar
as my brothers wifer'
Meek as was Lucy, by nature and by
training, her cheeks flushed crimson,
and her dark eyes flashed fire at this
taunt.
81 am no beggar, Miss Thornhill, :"
she said holly. .'And if your brother
loves another, not for the world would
| be his wife"
Tell him So" said Miss Thornhill
eagerly. Write it to him this very
day, and see how gladly he will be free
from you.
II will" said Lucy proudly.
And she went home and wrote the
letter.
The next day she lay in brain
fever, and her mother, guessing the
state of the case from her rawlings, re-
fused to let George Thornhill see her,
when he rode down to the farm.
Six weeks afterwards, when Lucy
was able to sit up by the open window
once more, her mother told her, pity
ingly, of that visit from her lover.
"Whcre is he now?" asked Lucy,
turning white.
Gone abroad, with his sister and
Miss Ilford, and a great party of
friends. No one knows when they will
return. The great house is closed, and
left in care of the gardener and his
wife"
Lucy made no answer. She men
toned George Thornhill no more.
As the year passed on TO winter, her
parents hoped that she had forgotten
him. But when ut Christmas they
urged her to look more kindly on
Friend Dcane, she burst into passion
Never speak again of marriage to
me-" she cried. al gave my heart
once for all, and it is broken now"
Spring smiled once more upon the
land, and Lucy wore no applc-blos-
SONS in her hair.
Their color, their odor even, made
her heart faint within her.
But at the great house they were
gathered in clusters to lay upon cot
fin lid.
George Thornhill had returned, and
with him came his sister, but no longer
living and imperious.
Pale and cold she looked, under the
heavy velvet pail, as they laid her
away in the Thornhill vault, and Lucy
Gray, after one glance ut the dead face,
went homcward, weeping bitterly.
She had hated her, not knowing it,
while in the bloom and glory of life
she descended to the grave.
George Thornhill had returned us he
went, unmarried. But Miss Ilford re-
manned in Paris, the bride of n French
noblcman.
In the evening neighbor brought
this piece of news to the brown cottage.
Lucy slipped away after hearing it,
and went to the old trysting place to
wonder what it could mean.
George Thornhill was there before
her. He turned, dressed in his deep
mourning, to welcome her, gravely but
kindly.
Lucy, on her dcath-bed, my poor
sister told me all, p" he said. II never
loved Miss Ilford, as she assured you |
did. | never thought of any woman
save you rs my wife. And you. | now
know, did not love young Deane, as /
then believed when 1 went away and
left you. We have both suffered, dear,
but we must forgive her, for she is in
her grave. And can you forgive me,
LucyP have been true to you, God
knows, all this weary while"
Lucy's pale face frightened into its
early bloom rs she listened. She held
out her hand to her lover with happy
smile. And the past months of sorrow
and parting were forgotten. rs beneath
the stars they sealed their new betroth-
nj with kiss.