The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1884-05-10

the fastldious Reginald Bovmont w.,f
A w1thered old man, with a hookod
nose and piercing eye, was behind the
Vat shall I show you. my tear ?" he
want an air-gun," said the yonno
man, to practice target-shootine with ?
am afraid have not such y tinr
! re, Tor y, What did you shay you wanted +
For target-shooting; hut if Won
haven't such q thing, It is of no conse-
Querce."
"Stay-stay; don't fluste-, nv tear
Come income in, and let's see vat l
have got"
He led the way into backroo in
which it wxs difficult to move at all II
was 30 crowded
Would this shut you: ?" he asked,
taking up D gun thin as walking stick,
and with the appearance of one
| Yes, said Reginald whats the
Ten pounds my tear"
| Reginald paid the exhorbitant demand
and left the shop, its worthy proprietor
bitterly regrettiag that he had not asked
twenty for it
On the day that the unfortunate Ellen
set out on her return to her father, Mrs.
Falconer, Edith, Ernest, and Frances
Hall
Edith had quite recovered her usual
health, and looked exceedingly lovely,
but sadness had settled on her younc
brow that not all the kindness Of her
friends or the devotion Of Gerald could
chase away.
Gerald was to drive her in her own
Little pony carriage, while the others
were to goby train.
She was not unconscious of Gerald's
love, which, during her lless. he had
shown IN . thousand ways but though
she knew his worth, and the wishes of
all round her that she would become his
wife. she shrank from the engagement
with feeling inexpicable to hersef.
why cannot l love him ?" she mur-
INJURED, while dressing for her journey.
why does my heart refuse to acknowl-
edge his power3 Can it be this fatal
affection for my poor Edward that has
rendered me incapable of loving at all
"Oh, she continued, "I must conquer
the feeling of repulsion. He is noble,
good. Perhaps, if once his wife, I
should love him: and it i the wish of
his beloved mother. If could have
summoned courage to Lord BowmOnt
he could have advised me. know mot
what is right. ~
With these feelings she took her seat
by Geralds side. and was soon driving
rapidly to Dunlo.
It was a fine morning in December.
and, clad IN warm furs, the fresh air IN
vigorated her.
As they entered Bushy Park, Gerald
slackened the reins of his ponies, and
gave them little breathing time.
Edith, darling" he said, suddenly
turning to his companion, '.how silent
yon are of what are you thinking:"
Forgive me; I fear am a very
stupid partner for your drive, Gerald,
dear; she said, looking up:
do not say that Edith you know
to have you near me is the greatest hap
piness can have. Oh, Edith, darling,
give me the right to have you always
near you, to comfort you in any distress.
to protect you in any danger, to shield
you from every harm Dearest, sweetest
Edith. love You 20 fOndly that every
breath you draw, every sieh YOU utter Is
part of my ifel Win you-ten me,
Edith-can you love me Z"
Edith's delicate form trembled from
head to foot as he passed his arm round
her waist and drew her to him.
- do love you. Gerald" she mur-
INJURED II do not know if it is as you
could wish, but If my love is necessary
to your happiness, I viii try to make
it So"
:" Dearest, he said. bending down and
kissing her white brow, II would rather
that the love had been spontaneous but
will not complain. It il enough that
you love me little, and / will SO sur
round you with love. that you viii be
obliged to love me. The air you breathe,
the words you hear. the things you see,
shall all so speak of my inimitable love
for you. that you cannot but be taught
to return it I"
Gerald you were ever good; teach
me to merit this love- for I am un-
worthy"
"How dare that rosebud Of q mouth
play traitor to the heart. You are the |
best. lOveliest, and sweetest-and how
can you be unworthy? Ny noble mother |
is ready to receive You IS her daughter |
already she loves you; and her gen |
erous heart will rejoice in the happiness
of her boy"
The viscount received Edith with a
deeper tenderness than ever, for she |
read in Gerald's beaming eye the tale of |
his betrothal Edith hid her face on the
noble bosom as the Viscounteas whis-
pered, Thank you, dearest, now you
are, indeed, my daughter"
A shiver passed through her frame at
the kind words, for which she bitterly
reproached herself in the solitude of her
room.
How unworthy I am of all this love-"
she sighed. Gould they see my heart,
how perverse and wicked it Is. how |
they would despise me!''
And she resOlutely determined to mn