The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1884-04-05

nopeu, unheard, resolved to walt Dehlnd
the friendly boughs until the voices which
/ i heard in the distance died into silence.
Feeling quite sure that no one would be
likely to explore the leafy recesses of my
hiding place, | began TO grow easy in my
mind, and even ventured to compliment
myself upon the cleverness had displayed.
iay triumph was short-lived. In few
moments became aware that voices were
9nwing near to me-so alarmingly near
that very soon | was able to recognize
them and distinguish what they were say
ing. 1t was Mr.. Vincent Hope and his
host, who had strolled away from their
friends.
"You have a fine specimen of the Portu-
guese laurel here" said the former.
"Yes," replied Mr.. Ramsey, ''it is fine
tree of the kind. They seldom grow larger.
Indeed, this one is beginning to die down.
There is an entrance cut on the other side;
SO it makes a shady but uncomfortable
warm weather retreat.
Then / knew that the two gentlemen
were coming round to the entrance. Twas
id despair. | covered down in the dark
ness, and prayed that Mr.. Hopes curiosity
might not induce him to pursue his botan-
ical researches into the interior saw his
head and shoulders FIJI up the entrance and
hide the moonlight falling there. For the
moment | was undecided whether to shrek
with horror, to endeavor to scare him away
by growing like wild beast, or to lie still
and trust to chance. On the whole, the
last seemed the wisest course to adopt. |
breathed more freely when saw he had no
intention of entering recess was not
tempting at night. | hoped the two men
would now remove themselves. But, alas
my Imprisonment was not yet to be ended.
They stood directly in front of the entrance,
and from my hiding place I could hear
every word they spoke.
| CHAPTER II.
Much as l disliked that young man, l
was bound to confess that he looked pro-
vokingly handsome as he stood bare headed
in the moonlight watching the wreaths of
smoke from his cigar curling about in the
still air. could now scan him quite at
my ease. Ny courage had returned, and
l felt myself insured against discovery,
My only dread was that the two men would
begin to talk secrets. In such case, my
keen sense of honor must, of course, make
me reveal my presence. / made firm
resolution that would not play at caves
dropping. Alas! for poor humanity! In
minute | was straining my ears to catch
every word. Yet how could | help it?
Heritage Rivers was the subject of their
discourse.
81 hope you found your companion at
dinner pleasant one? p said Mr.. Ramsay.
"Oh, yes; very pleasant replied Mr..
Hope earelessly. ''She's nice sort of a
girl, dare say"
A nice sort of girl The wretched
man! | hate him!
"We think a great deal more of her
than that" said that dear old Mr. Ramsay.
"Indeed," replied his companion, with
out evincing the slightest interest in the
matter.
"Yes-indeed and indeed" echoed my
old friend. ''But, joking apart, did you
not notice she bids fair to be most beau
tiful woman?''
1t would have needed little more to have
brought me from my lurking-place on pur-
pore to kiss that good old man
Vincent Hope laughed quietly. "To
tell you the truth, he said, II don't think
l noticed her much She seemed to me of
the ordinary schoolgirl type. don't care
much for school girls. :"
| dug my nails into my hands and
ground my teeth. Handsome as the man
looked in the moonlight, could have killed
him then and there
'"Yet," said Mr.. Ramsay, II noticed she
talked pretty freely to you"
The shrug of Mr.. Hopes shoulders al
most maddened me. eyes, but sad nom
sense" he said, "although it was rather
amusing at times. Of course, it's not fair
to judge her now. She is very raw, and,
I should say, rather awkward. IF proper.
ly looked after, no doubt she will grow up
to be decent sort of q young woman p
Raw and awkward! He spoke of me
me, whom many ofmy school-friends called
Queen Heritage, from the stately and dig
niGed manner was supposed to assume at
times. A decent sort of young woman
That | should hear man, one, moreover,
in his own opinion judge on such matters,
gravely set this up as the standard to which
| might arrive-if properly looked after.
1t was too much; the fall was too great.
And as the horrible thought flashed across
me that his description might be true, his
prediction correct, tears of sheer mortiGca-
tiOp sprang into myeyea, Egca Mr. RAM
say almost testy rejoinder gave me no COM
fort.
"Oh, nonsense, Hope She will grow
up beautiful, accomplished, and clever
woman. You judge her wrongly. Talk
to her again in the drawing-room; there,
she will be more at home"
"All right; | will, +" the wretch answered.
"But at present want to talk to you about
more important things than young ladies.
l have to-day been offered the editorship of
the Piccadaly Magazine. Shall 1 take
it?
II congratulate you. But it is too se-
rious matter to decide out here. We
will talk it over by-and-by. We must
join the ladies now. | see every one else
HIS SUHe H.
"Then | suppose we must" said Mr..
Hope. rather ruefully, and tossing his cigar
away with half sigh.
waited a minute; then l peered out,
and at last ventured to creep round the
laurel and reconnoitre. The broad back
of my candid critic was just disappearing
through the dining-room window. | shook
my fist viciously at it. watched Mr..
Ramsay follow his guest, saw the win
dow close and the blind fall; then l
flew at top speed to the library, whence 1
had made my exit, entered noiselessly, and
threw myself into chair, feeling that my
life was blighted.
The room was family lit up; the door
was closed; l was alone with my misery,
for misery it was; l use the word soberly
and advisedly, without thought of jest