Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1884-05-16
with shame and remorse.

J ">SN
miss Lee, can you forgive me-can
you forget my absurd folly and let us be
friendsp" She hesitated; her lips CULVER
cred, her fingers falteringly ran over the
keys.
"No," she said at length, slowly, II can
not be your friend. cannot forget the
humiliating, degrading light in which
you regarded me. You thought I came
here Toto deliberately endeavor to en-
trap your valuable affections, comfortable
fortune and handsome person. You
thought me unvomanly enough to-"
II was fool" interrupted vehement
ly. II deserve your contempt-but, oh,
Miss Lee-Dorothy-ca I do nothing to
atone for my folly2"
''Nothing," she answered, coldly. 81
am not your enemy, am not vindictive,
but I cannot be friendly with man who
so degraded and insulted me in his
Thoughts
And she left me. smarting under a
sense of self degradation such as I had
never before experienced.
l had before learned to admire this girl
despite myself, and now was conscious
of feeling of remorseful tenderness to-
ward her, for the wounded and outraged
womanly feeling which 1 could see was
so strong beneath all her pride. longed
to kneel at her feet, and to take her in my
arms and protect her henceforth through
life.
This feeling grew stronger with every
hour that passed in her company. did
not intrude myself upon her, but some
times fancied that she perceived what my
feelings were. She was row reserved but
not scornful, and once or twice, as I
CHANGED suddenly to meet her eyes. fan
eied that they fell, and soft color came
into her cheek.
ARTHUR" said my sister-in-law, "what
is the reason that you and Dorothy can't
be friends? Have you done anything to
offend her +? She won't tell me, SO ask
you. Have you quarreled ?"
"Quarreled? No. I am Dorothy's
friend, and regret that she cannot be
mine"
"Oh," said Caroline, her eyes brighten
ing. "Do you know 1 am sure che likes
you better than you would suppose ? Yes
terday, now, when we were talking about
how nobly you behaved at the Grant fire.
she didn't say word, but if you could
have seen how she listened. and yet so
bright Dorry has warm and generous
heart-only she won't always show it,"
didn't feel like smiling at Carries art
fulness, even when she that evening asked
Dorothy to sing, and in the midst of it
pretended to hear baby screaming, and
so left US alone.
Twill you sing me song now, Miss
Dorothy ?' I said. half anticipated some
excuse; but she said quietly, "What shal
it be ?'
"'Annie Laurie 1t has always been
my favorite."
She sang it in sweet, clear voice. lower
than usual. and with tenderness of feel
ing which strangely stirred my heart. The
lamps were not lighted-the freight
glinted on Dorothy's bronze hair, and
brought out her clear-cut profile against
the shadows like cameo. I fancied her
paler than usual, and there had been about
her, all day, something subdued and al
most sad. As 1 looked at her great
wave of tenderness seemed suddenly to
swell up into my heart. could have
cursed myself that had however uncon-
sciously have caused her pain.
"Dorothy,"I said, impulsively. as the
song concluded, shave you yet forgiven
me ="
"Do not again allude to that subject,
Mr.. Eustace," she answered, quietly. II
have told you that forgave you-and I
wish to forget it,
'But there is something more to ask-I
want you to be my friend. Dorothy I
cannot be happy without your good opin-
ion-your friendship. There is nothing
on earth that would not do TO win it,"
The pale cameo of her face flushed to a
faint rose hue.
81 have not bad opinion of you, Mr..
Eustace; think better of you than I did
when first met you. And"-she hesita-
ted, and then spoke rapidly-"I admit
that you were not 80 very much to be
blamed in-in forming the opinion" land
here her face flushed scarlet, and she
broke off abruptly.
Don't say so-don't remind me of my
insufferable folly. IT you forget it, Do
rothy-forgive it-be nay friend. Oh, Do.
rothy, bow can you be so cold-hearted, SO
cruel, to one who loves you as I do?"
The words escaped me almost involun.
tarily; and now, the ice once broken, my
feelings would not be restrained. and I
ended in asking if she would not allow
me to hope that might yet win the love-
yet hope to claim her some time as my
wife. And then 1 was silent-half dis
mayed at my own precipitancy. and yet |
half hoping, as 1 saw Dorothy's downcast
face and eyes filled with tears.
She looked up the next moment. She
rose and stood before me, proud and pale.
mo-" she said, with sort of passion
ate decision in her tone-''no, will new |
er be your wife. 1 am going away to-
morrow-going to B, and 1 think-I |
hope-that you and I will never meet |
again. We will part friends now if you |
will.'
took the extended hand it trembled a
little as it lay for an instant passive in
mine.
'Goed-by," was all could say, for the
shock of great pang seemed to have stun
ned me. She was lost to me, and had not
known till this moment how really low
ed her. I saw her pause at the door and
look back with strange troubled look in
her eyes, and then she was gone.
At eight O'Clock next morning was on