The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1884-08-17
LOVE CONQUERS.
ny THE AUTHOR OF "pORA THORNE,'
"a RoSR IN THORNs,' ETC.
CHAPTER Al.


amongst the meadow-sweet that he might
die there. For him they had been two
eyentful years, as he had now risen to the
head Of his profession, and was crowned
with fame. He had tried to drown all
thought, all memory, in work. He no
longer spent hours in watching the fair
face of Nature, lest among the green leaves,
IN the cleaning waters, or in the hearts of
flowers he should see the lovely face that
had intoxicated him with its witchery,--
lie spent no more pleasant hours over
books of poetry, lest from their pages La
dy Lilias's sweet face should smile on him.,
What he suffered no one knew; he bore his
pain and anguish as the Spartan boy bore
the gnawing of the fox. lie realized the
poets words--for his life seemed long
"Thou shalt fear
Waking and sleeping mourn upon thy bed
And say at night, Would God the day were
here'
And say at dawn, Would God the day were
deadp
With weary days thou shalt be clothed and
fed,
And wear remorse of heart for thine attire
Pain for thy grdle, and sorrow upon thine
head.
This is the end of every mans desire"
lie fought a brave fight with grim De.
spair. There We're times when he was
victor, and for few hours he would cry
out that his work was everything, that a
mans life was his work, and that love was
play-when he would 90 about trying to
smile, trying to sing gay snatches of song,
and, after few hours, break down with
bitter cries and bitter tears. Once he
woke up from a long dream of Lady Lii
las, with these passionate words on his
lips
I" l wish we were dead together to-day,
Lost sight of, hidden away out of sight,
Clasped and clothed in the cloven clay.
Out of the worlds way, out of the light,
Out of the ages of worldly weather,
Forgotten of all men altogether
AS the worlds first dead-taken wholly
away,
Made one with death, filed full Of the
night"
He loved her so passionatcly and so we'll
that he would rather have been dead and
buried with her, out of sight, out of the
WI ~ way Out VI VIC llSUt.
He had read in some quaint poem of q
man who had loved abeautiful woman his
whole life long-he, son Of the people,
born for labor and toll; she, u dainty lady
who had never even looked at him with
her proud sweet eyes. 1t was in the fair
land of France; and down to the banks of
the Loire, in the fifth century, came one
who brought with him murder and death,
one who loved torture; and he gave orders
that the bronzed son of the soil and the
dainty lady should be bound together
heart to heart, and flung into the river;
and the man, dying, eXulted in death, be-
cause, during its agony, the lady he had
loved his whole life long was with him.
Nane Wharf knew that for such Il death
he would have laid down his life with u
smile.
One thing comforted him. Every day
with weary eyes he looked through the
newspapers, but there was never any men,
tion Of Lady Lilias's marriage. lie read of
her triumphs--for each year brought the
fashionable world more and more to her
feet; he read her name among the partici-
pators in the most brilliant gayetes Of the
season-he knew that she was the queen
never line that told of her marriage.
Ono man is good enough for her." said
Vane to himself, "and no man could ever
be-"
The bridge over the liver had been
built. Sir Raye, having recovered his
health, and undertaken the superinten-
dence Of it, and Vane had not seen Ulyers-
croft since the day he had been left amongst
the meadow-sweet alone. Perhaps Sir
Kaye had discovered something of Nane's
secret; for he never said much OF Ulyers-
croft TO him.
Through long nights Vane lay almost
mad with his misery; and yet at times
athwart this misery came CLEANS Of light
bright and dazzling, yet making the dark
ness that followed more intense. He re-
membercd that Lady Lilias had soGtened
TO him, and that he had seen that in her
face which was very like love. She had
owned that she cared for him little, but
she had added that there his suit must
end. There were times when he blamed
himself; yet the words from the sweet
proud lips were firm enough-"lt can new
er be-"
Would the time come, he wondered,
when he should forget her, when the dead
gold Of her hair, the proud grace Of her
figure, the fair beauty Of her face, would
fade from his memory and cease to torture
hmi The incident was bad, as it was;
but what would it have been if she had
known the truth, if she had known that he
was the son Of poor farmer, son OF the
soil! She would not even have spoken to him
as She did then; She would not have list
tened to him. At least, now she did not
remember him with contempt.
The June OF the second year came round,
and he was still i'll with the fever called
"Ioye," he was still pale and thin, with
lines Of care on his face.
lie had in great measure forgotten his
old home; the new life with its Thousand
aims had entirely claimed him, the new
love had entirely drowned all memory of
the Old. Since he had grown wealthy he
had sent nome every year sum Of money
that filled the old farmer with wonder
and made the mother cry out with admira.
tion at her gifted son; but Yane did not
20 near them. 1t was not that the voice
of nature was dead in his heart, but that
he had outgrown his old life. sui he nev.
er forgot them. Great packages were sent
from London to the Meadow Farm
dresses for his mother and Kate, and hand.
some presents for the farmer and Desford.
They might have indeed lived without