The Penn's Grove record., 1885-05-09

comes every day for news of her, Pm
afraid we all knew what she has mort
gagged, poor girl -
Before Dicks speech is ended l have
a buzzlng in my ears, see blOod-spots
dancing in the air, and feel that am
furiOusly angry. Have | a right to in
terfere2 OF course not-and vet shall.
If l kick Noise and he challenges me,
will that touch Miss Trevor's good
name? / cannot think clearly, so l go
off for a gallop, which gets the fury and
the hot blood off my brain. Coming
gathering down the road | see that same
Jew on a very screw of a nag, and fancy
him on his way to his daily Inquiry.
Il fear it will be too late to go and
ask news of Miss Trevor at your hotel, !"
he remarks, consulting his watch.
"And | forbid you TO make such in
quiries," | say Extensively.
He looks very savage and astOnlshed,
and demands by what right l forbid his
visits.
81 do not choose to explain, but they
are to cease"
"Aais, MOnsieUr--"-"MdiS, Mon
sieur Noise, the subject is ended"
l feel awfully shabby bullying such a
little fellow; but he might fight. Helen
Trevor's good name must not make me
act the coward, since she could take
mine instead. Jews are usually plucky,
and good shots.
There is my card if you wish to call
me to account" | suggest.
But he does not take the card, and
stammers. hesltating-
sit would be foolish in me to notice
your bravado, since the lady happens to
be my promised wife"
His wife-good Heavenl l think L
shall go mad with the idea; but l clench
my hands, and only say quietly
"You are mistaken-she has changed
her mind"
"Changed her mindI" he screams.
'And my twelve thousand poundsl L
am tricked, robbed, swindledl'
Hold YOU lying ~tongueI" l say be-
tween my teeth. "You shall have your
money when and where you will
"Words-wordsl And l have no Sc
c%urityl'' he means, his teeth chattering
with cold and fear of loss.
when and where9" l ask briefly;
and he at last consents to name a day
and place. AS he is turning away to
his hotel 1 bethlnk me to add, "lf l
hear of your mentioning this affair or
the lady's name, it is to me you will ac-
count for it. And Din that case | will
break your head. C0mpreRez?"
L feel really sneaking as 1 say good
night to the man whom L have so Sc
curely badgered.
The sum is a stiff one; but the yacht
can be put down, and the mater will
lend her ''pickle'' a ''dver'' without
asking questions, bless her dear heartl
The rest win be easy, without altering
our usual habits, or restricting expend-
iture. which would not please my
mother.
When l reach the house ] hear that
Miss Trevor is better-is even by special
permission to be seen this evening in
the Jerninghams' boudoir. l ask for a
ticket, and spend the time up to nine
O'Clock in te~legraphing necessary orders
and writing to the mater.
| am in a horrible fright about the
confession. What if she is ''high and
mighty" and says she prefers Noise
and the shekels? l have almost told
her l despised her-and it was lmperti-
nent meddling on my part. L must ask
her to be Mrs. Ted when | i have blocked
her refusing by driving off the lsraellte.
She is lying in a great white covered
Invalid chair, and looks very frall and
shadowy, with her two slender hands
resting listlessly in her lap. Her long
hair is thrown back in a wavy, curly
mass and she lifts two very big beseech-
ing eyes, but does not smile on me.
Something quite chokes my speech for
a moment, and then | break the silence
in a brutal, man-like way.
"Miss Trevor-Helen," | stammer,
like a s~choolboy, 81 have told Noise
that you are gong to marry me-that
he can't have you"
Oh, the lovely color her indignation
gives her, and the tears of anger in her
luminous eyesl l see l am done for;
and-how can l help it'll just gather
her up into my arms. to hold her to my
aching, longing heart once more, to kiss
her white cheeks, her brow, her throat,
her hands-my darling, oh, my lost dar-
lingl She is nearly swoonlng, for she
lies against my heart whittier than any
broken lily.
"Put me In my chair" she whispers
family.
Ashamed at last, L. obey, and cling,
kneeling, to her lovely hands. She is
too weak to reproach me.
Il must marry Monsieur Noise" b
explains YEARLY; ''there are strong bind
ing reasons"
but he is paid. The bond is can
celled and you are Free"
Her eyes dilate, and, oh, she smiles
and looks c%ontentl
''Will you take me, HelenP Will you
come to me2'' | entreat.
She lifts her perfect hand and motions
for silence; and, when some long cruel
moments have passed thus, she turns to
me and answers calmly and firmly
mo. dear friend, l cannot be your
wife. l will love you as a sister might,
and ask of Heaven to find you some
sweet, pure soul who has never been
dragged in the dust of this life, You
are brave and chivalrous, and wish to
help me in the only way possible.
shall give me this material aid till such
time as l can repay it with gold asclean
as yours"
But if | love %you-if l cannot live
without your" groan.
"Oh, noble soul, you do not wish that
anything should be wanting in your
gift?"
s'Oh Helen, then you cannot love me
nor learn to love me as my wifeY"
Such a sad sweet smile answers me!
Love will not be forced, and she Is
grown too loyal to deceive me.
kiss me yet once again, my BROTHER"
she falters, ''and then leave me. Don't
let me meet you here again, y she whls-
pers against my fierce %throbbing heart.
II think it will kill me-"
She swoons quite away with these
last words, and l may kiss her white
ljps at my will. for she is as dead to
this world as she is hencefOrth 70 me.
l pass some weeks with my mother,
who has great hopes of Mrs. JeTning-