Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1884-06-25

which he had refused 10 Weu Ills
fathers ward.
His hostess, noting the look of wea-
rness upon his face, tapped him light
ly with her fan.
There is one here who will not
bore YOU" she said, laughingly. "4ou
have not met the beautiful artist of
whom we all talk because we find no
subject so agreeable? Then l will
give you a new delight" and, laying
her jeweled hand upon his arm, she
led him across the wide room to where
a regal woman held her court. Where
had he seen that face, he wondered,
bending low before the stranger, who
received him as a queen might. 1t
was dark and calm, but the great eyes,
all gloom and power; the red lips. with
their delicate curves; the white brow,
! from which flowed back mass OF
dusky, unrippling hair, struck on him
like the memory of half-forgotten
dream.
"Have met you before?" he asked
her, later in the night. And he fan
cied that the dark eyes saddened as
they turned on him.
Would you have forgotten me|
She asked with slow smile. And he
told himself, with a new thrill at his
heart, that he never would. Once
looking on that lovely face would leave
it engraved on his heart forever.
For three months from that night
Allan Dreemc suffered the agony of an
uncertain love. His heart was filled
with the glory of her beauty, filled
with hope and fear. So many beside
himself sought the smiles of this regal,
dark-eyed woman, whose brush had
made her famous. Ard then, one
night, when he found himself alone
with her among The bloom and perfume
of q conservatory, again at one OF
Madame Riviere's balls, where, amid
.'glitter and glare" be had first seen
her, a beautiful queen, he laid his
heart at her feet and trembled, because
she was so long silent.
Within the music swelled; the
laughter of the guests reached them
soft. sweet, mirthful. lie bent his
proud head in meekness, waiting fol
her answer.
She lifted her dropping eyes and laid
fair hand on his arm, tremulous JOY
touching her warm lips.
Allan" she said softly, "when
went forth from the home your father
left you | had no hope of this. love(
YOU then, Allan, and l heard you say
words which | have never forgotten
heard you tel your father to let YOU
heart choose its own mate. Are yol
sure-sure Allan! that your heart ha
chosen Leoline Elmary
"Leoline." he cried, shrinking, "yo,
are not 'Leolne"
81 have not been called so since tina
summer day, when heart-sick, hope
less child of seventeen, | knew | lovet
you, Allan, and you gave me no return
But, if you love me-I am doubling
still, Allan"
ooh, do rot doubt my love" h
whispered, taking her hands, and draw
ing her toward him; 81 was then
thoughtless youth, and my father
wish to bind me seemed cruel. | an
a man now, and my heart has spoken
Is not the mans love more worthy il
your sight than that of the boy coul'
be, my darling? Ifyou loved me then
do not tell me that | caused that low
to die!'
"Does love ever die?' she questioned
gently laying her beautiful head on hi
bosom; "no, Allan havenot forgotten
: il was that love which drove me iron
, Dreeme Hall; it was that which KEEP
Inc strong, when | found the world S
cold and hard to me! 1t was that fo
which, when / had gained friends an
Q fortune, / refused coronet. Te
7 years stretch drearily between to-nigh
and that summer day, Allan, on whic
l took my young heart from Dreem
(; Hall and bore it far from you, with tn
1 hope that ] might teach it to groN
calm; but ! could not calm it. m
dearest; it would quiver and thrill a
t thought of you, at the sound of you
S name. You will have to love me we
|, to erase those sad, sad years, Allan1'
e His eyes were misty al he held he
| to his heart and laid his loving kisse
L on her beautiful face.
r "My love! my lovc'' he said sadly
t was it but memory of my coldnes'
Il my blindness, that you could take wit
you? How can ever win your con
d plete pardon for the past?"
"By loving me WELL" was the low
II toned answer.
"Had you but remained" he whi
pered, "my blindness could not hav
l. lasted long | would have wakene
|, to your worth; would have sougl
II your love, long years ago, my peerles
l. darling"
. ALLAN" she said gently, passing hi
u jewelled fingers through his har "w
u seldom realize the truth of the poet
words:
"'That |. best which lie,h nearest -
u But Allan Dreeme, looking dow
| ln,;p ply unnp Ipr fnrp tnl1 himgp