The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1884-01-12

MIN not only vera Nrlotnesiy, Dut TN
former pretty little lady likewise.
To her cousin, on her return from tn,
opera last night, Vera had confded all he
story-concealing nothing-and confessins
to feeling disagreeable amount of nerv,
BUSINESS about the interview impending be
tween her and her former lover.
$50 to bed and don't let that trouble
you, said Lady Vynor. II have not come
to my age, hope, without being able t.
outwit man. There; leave all that to me.
Now, seated in her fayorite lounging
chair, wreathed in smiles, Laura Vynor be
trays fine determination to out-sit her visitor
with smiling obtuseness to any desire
/ for her departure beyond all praise.
She is almost effusively amirable to Stain
welcoming him as an old friend Of
Vera's And so he has been at Berlin fol
whole year! How delightful He can
now tell her (what she has been all her life
so longing to know whether Kaiser Will
helm is as popular as one has been led to
believe. And SO on.
Stainer, bending in sulky silence, an
swers all her questions somewhat at random.
His eyes are fixed upon the perfect profile
of the girl sitting half inside the lace cur
tains of the window, and his mind is wan
dering to days-now past and gone-when
her love had been his own beyond all doubt.
Her eyes never once seek the room, but are
turned upon the busy world of carriages
outside. One hand is lying idle in her lap,
the other is lazily furling and unfuling a
huge black fan. The curtains so far con-
ceal her that Stainer cannot see her express
sion and so is unable to judge whether she
is or is not as anxious to be rid of her talk
ative cousin as he is.
The moments, stealing all too swiftly by,
tell him it is drawing very near to 4
O'Clock, and that even an "old friend" must
not infict himself upon anybody for more
than an hour at time.
He has consinged Lady Vynor to regions
impolite and has half risen to take. his de-
parture, when an interruption occurs that
compels Lady Vynor, bon gre, NAL gre, to
leave him alone with Vera. The mission
on which the servant summons her admits
of no delay.
When he has closed the door behind her
he goes quickly to where Vera has been
sitting. She has come out from the cur
tains, however, and is now advancing to-
wards him.
"At least l can speak to you alone" he
says, with passion in his voice she had
never heard there in old days. "What
tortures have been enduring ever since
that moment, last night, when once again
my eyes looked into yours And you,
Vera-you cannot have forgotten all p
81 have forgotten nothing, says the girl
gravely.
"Ah, it is not so easy to forget" cries he
triumphantly. "And you-you have a
heart You must still feer'-
She interrupts him by slight but elo-
quent gesture.
~ am not heartless, indeed she says;
and have felt-too much !" There is a
culver in her sweet voice that misleads
him. In truth, the emotion it expresses is
not for him, but for the memory Of those
past dark hours when she had mourned so
truly for love now known to be worth
less,
"All may still be well with us, y exclaims
he, eagerly. Il love yoH now as | never
loved you then. My silence during this
past year l will explain. r
':Can you?" says Vera, not severely, but
with steady glance from her great violet
eyes.
II can-I WILL" declares he, wildly. II
was mad then-blind. But surely the love
you once bore me will help you to forgive
ness ?"
''The love you killed? Do you appeal
to that p
81 swear''-
"Nay, no more false oaths,'' interrupts
she again with weary movement. "They
will be useless now. The love you speak
of is dead, slain by your own hand; if, in
deed" dreamily, ''it ever existed"
'sNot dead" entreats he with extreme
agitation. ''Do not say that Give me a
fresh trial-one last chance
aToo late p returns she in low but
firm voice. Outside she can hear a step
upon the stairs that of late has grown very
familiar to her. The color rushes back to
her pale face as she turns towards the door.
1t is flung open rather impetuously and
Digby enters the room.
Their eyes meet, but seeing her standing
close to Stainer in apparently agitated con-
verse Higby comes 70 2 standstill and looks
at her with terrible reproach in his beau
tiful eyes. This look fades, however, and
gives place to one of ecstasy as she goes
quickly up to him and frankly holds out to
him both her hands.
Leaving them still in his warm clasp, she
glances back to where Stainer is standing
as if rooted to the ground.
"Major Stainer," she says, with an odd
little thrill in her soft voice, "let me intro
duce you TOTO my future husband, Lord
pigbyr'
Training enables StaineF to acknowledge
the rather distant bow made him by Digby,
but the sense of utter defeat is crushing
him. He has grown haggard and aged in
these last few minutes, He mgtters some
thing about an engagement, selzes his hat
and bows himself out, without permitting
himself to look into her face even once
again.
"Vera, you meant it ?' says Digby, when
they are alone. He is scarcely less agitated
than the man who has just left the room.
"I did," returns she tremulously. at
is but poor gift, but if you want me l
give myself to you gladly"
"With this gift that you call poor, what
man on earth shall be so rich, so blest as
IT.
"Best hear me first" whisper she. "Do
not take me until l have told you all. Last
night faltering accents-''I met
"Not another word, says Digby gently
II know everything. That man who has
Just gone-you-you'-
II was engaged to him." says Vera simp,
ly, though with very troubled eyes. sand
he went away and forgot me. II thought
1 loved him then; but last night, when
saw again
She breaks down here and bursts into
tears. Digby, taking her into his arms