The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1884-08-28

never word OF reproach at the cold an
swers which his unwilling fingers
penned.
He had once imagined that he loved
this English girl, with her tender man
ners and soft-brown, trustful eyes.
But, oh, DiO milo, he had not then
seen tender eyes flash with passion
whose fierceness enhances their brill
lance, nor lips more than half willing
for frequent meetings with his own.
The gentle English girl should have
his name-it was promised, and he was
in honor bound to that. But this dark,
tawny woman of the South, with her
Italian arts of love and Partisan graces,
which charmed and lulled his senses
into observation-disclosures could he wiring
his heart from her keeping, and what
will be will be.
He went out from his room that even
ing. and left the ring with the strange
motto engraved on it lying on the floor.
The next day he called at the Villa
Garlic, but my lady was out.
The day after, at his accustomed
hour, he went again.
My lady was still out, the footman
said.
"But had she left no wOrd-no mes
sage?" asked Julian.
"Oh, surely. If the signor came
there was little note.
Julian's hand trembled as he received
small, crumpled note, which the foot
man carelessly drew from his pocket.
Beneath the huge porch of the Par
thenon, where the moonlight streams
down in broad flood and merges step
by step into the farther shadows, Julian
read the letter.:
caro- MO-" it began-ah, the soft
italian phrase, which seemed doubly
sweet and tender from her lips or pen
II have been thinking deeply these
last two days, and have come to SEN
sible resolution. If my Lady Eva could
have shown half the sense of which 1
shall presently make an exhibition
much trouble might have been averted.
Dear Julian, you will stamp and
curse and swear when tell you. Well,
so be it. shall not be there to hear,
but what L say is this-that We must
part.
"For your little English girl will
begin to be impatient at your absence,
and well, 1 must tell you my hus-
band is coming home from the war In
Algiers, for 1 am married. Why not
tell you before? 1t matters nothing
now. If you will be angry, console
yourself with one thought-that 1 love
you for yourself, and 90 send you
from me.
IF 1 loved you for myself, would
not be such model of domestic virtue
as you will now picture me, but would
keep YOU near me whether Milford Car
Ito comes or not, or would fly with you
to the earth's end before my arms should
ever loose their hold upon your neck.
But / have memory of young
heart broken for sake of him who went
away and never saw again the olives
and the vine-leaves which grew in the
valley of my country home. She is
waiting for you, Julian, in her own land,
and well, am waiting for Milor d
Garlic, as a good wife should.
The letter closed abruptly. Julian
leaned up against one of the marble
pillars, and pondered deeply every
word.
Loved him for himself, and so sent
him from her" his egotism would
not allow him to believe in her unself-
ishness.
Tired of me, more likely" he NUT
tered angrily, land so, womanlike, shifts
the blame from her own shoulders when
weary of old game, and longing for
new"
He Hinged for three weeks in Rome,
in the hope of some chance meeting
with her, but the meeting never oc-
Cured. Then he sailed for home, with
manliness of which my lady scarcely
deemed him capable; he resolved to
take the advice she had given in the
letter, and go back to England-to his
betrothed.
1t was not until he was well on his
way that he began TO think of the ter
rible length of his sojourn in Rome
some seven months-he was reluctant
to acknowledge it, yet he had scattered
nival season, and it was past October
now.
On the pier at Dover his eldest
brother met him.
"Why! where are you bound for?"
asked Julian, in surprise.
An expression of sorrow came over
the others features.
81 was going in search of you," he
said hurredly, "for II don't think the
home coming will be pleasant for you
now"
"Why not?" said Julian, a vague feel
ing of relief creeping unconsciously
upon him.
We'll, you see-over two months ago
it happened-John Moorly, you re-
member him he and Marian-oh, L
can't tell 1.-THE girl was such traitor,
but she's gone with him, left home,
broke faith with you, everything, to
marry a sub in a marching regiment )"
Such wave of happiness swept over
Julian's face.
George, dear fellow~ he cried,
Selling his brothers hand eagerly, Il
Il don't care-my hearts not broken.
She never really liked me. am glad
she'll be happy in her own way at last.
But can't stay here to see tit would
drive me Wild" he added with untruth-
fulness.
So George turned toward London,
while Julian took the next steamer for
Calais.