Daily Republican., 1885-05-29
Under a Cloud.
BY ANNABEL DWIGHT.

When WAS Mollie Delacourt, and
twenty years old, that experience came
to me that clowns every woman, be
she rich or poor, queen.
1 was rich, at least my father was.
and 1 WAS his heiress. Ny home was q
luxurious one, and my life had been one
Of ease and comfort.
Being young, pretty, and wealthy,
you may imagine. Of course, that had
suitOrs In plenty, but somehow l could
never feel anything more for any of
them than q mere passing interest until
l met Randall Ames.
! was waiting Uncle Simeon Bryant,
OF Bryant Cove.
He lived in delightful, rambling,
picturesque old house, which command.
cd . magnificent view of the ocean, and
the old hOusekeeper used to indulge me
to my hearts content.
So when l grew sick of dancing
dressing, and flirting, would run Cd
for visit to Bryant Cove, where was
always sure of q welcome.
One night, during this summer of
which l am writing, there came up a
terrific thunder-shower, and while at
Its height, Randall Ames begged q
shelter.
He was spending few weeks at the
village hotel, he told US, and had been for
tramp along the shore when the storm
overlook him.
do not think bad ever passed 30
pleasant an evening as that.
With every advantage of breeding,
education, and travel, he was q most
entertaining companion.
did not think him handsome, but
there was something peculiarly taking
in the expression of his earnest, dark
eyes. ana the curve OF the fine lips un.
der his dark mustache.
l soon discovered that many of NV
acquaintaD were also his. We had
not met before, because he had been in
the old country for years, but it was
likely that We should meet again dur.
Ing the following winter, at which he
expressed his pleasure.
1t was ten o'clock that evening when
he took his leave.
The next day 1 mot him on the beach.
he got into the way Of calling at the
oid mousse he walked with me, sang
with me, sailed with me down the
Droad, mooniit paths of the ocean. and
deemed myself the happiest girl liv-
ing.
What happy summer that was ,
DAY aiter day we passed together.
How true and noble he seemed 70 me
then, and how l used to dream over
every word, and smile, and expression
of his.
What merry times we had lunchipp
gypsy fashion on the beach, and laugh
ing over the silliest possible jokes from
sheer light heartednes
l hardly know when he first told me
in 30 many words that he loved me, and
wanted me- to marry; him. 1 am
sure that must have known it before
he ever said word, although remem-
Der how great carelessness l used to
affect at times, as If his sentiments could
in no way disturb the even tenor of my
thoughts and then he would indulge
In sentimental reveries, cOncerning some
old sweetheart, who was remarkably
pretty girl ard didn's look in the least
like me, and how he would laugh II this
leased me J.!
But all these fiimsy pretenses came to
an end At last, and we were betrothed
and when he put his arms about me
and pressed his lips to mine | felt as
though hardly deserved 30 joyful o
fortune as to be his wife, and 1 prayed
God to make nae more womanly and
unseltisb, that ! might be better com.
panion Tor my kiug among men.
returned to New York during the
latter part of August, and Randall went
out to Minnesota on some business con
nected with his property.
Our engagement was 10 be kept pri-
vate until he returned. This was my
request, and although 10 rebelled at
first and wanted to write my father, he
finally yielded to my wish.
l had been ut home only few weeks
when heard story tina. swept all my
new found happiness from my life and
left me to such misery n scarce would
wish for my deadliest Toe.
1t was q story of a woman's trust
and love deceived and betrayed.
A young Swede had left her native
land to follow the fortunes of her lover,
who, having deceived her by q mock
marriage, left her to die of heart break
and neglect In the great city of London.
The case had come to the knowledge
of friend of mine who had just re-
turned from England.
The man was Randall Ames.
Only those who have made their idols
of clay can know what suffered then.
and how wildly and sinfully I prayed
to die.
The memory Of all those innoceutly
happy summer days came back again
and again TO haunt me. Then, ~ re-
called the frank and royal bearing OF
my lover, It seemed impossible that he
should carry 80 black heart.
endeavored to think there was
some mistake, but how could L? Was
he not In Sweden, and did he not leave
there at the very time the poor girl WAS
said to have been missed ? Did no not
hint at some unpleasant circumstances
attending his stay in London, flushing
as he told me?
Above a Il there WAS his name, Randall
Ames.
How thankful I was, then, that pre-
vailed upon him not 70 write to my
father
1 sent him q note at last. which ran
as follows:
You must never come back to nae.
/ know all and would sooner die than
bear your name. FAREWELL"
If I had wanted further proof of bis
guilt l had 1t in the silence which fol-
lowed the sending of this message. Hell
neither came to me or wrote
A whole year dragged wearily by
how YEARLY to me no one guessed, for
was too proud 10 show my heart to the
world.
Iplunged desperately into continual
round of gayety. 1 refused Uncle
Simeon's invitation to visit BRYANT
Cove again 1t seemed to me l should
never be able to go there.
About this time, some twenty of our
friends we're planning Western tour,
and persuaded father and me to accom-
paDy them.
We were to have everything on n
regular Bohemian scale-to camp out,
hunt and fish, and dance q quadrille on
the prairie, horseback.