Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1885-03-14

seems 10 SHRINK from pubilclty. n
wonder, too; beauty has made itself s
dooced vulgar of late," says the ol
gentleman, with shrug of disgust.
"Yes?' says Dare calmly, but HI
look is in itself question.
@She's charmin'-charmin'," goes O
Sir Harry, when he has refreshed hi m
self with pinch of snuff, sand myste
rious as she is lovely"
Mysterious ?"
Rather, my dear boy Mustn't sa,
word about it, you understand; bu
when she was about eighteen, her IA
ther, Sir Pagan Monteith, you know
eh-what? Don't want to know
Ha, hal Very good indeed! Well, h,
wished at that time to force her into
marriage with most dilapidated per
son-an earl, Notwithstanding quite
old enough to be her father Cir
wouldn't hear of this sacrifice at an,
price, and when pressed to it by angry
parent, bolted-no one knows where
unless Lady Dalruth may. For thre,
long years she remained ineognita
Odd affair. isn't it? Nobody can ex
plain it"
Dare thinks he could. Again the
belief that Miss Monteith and his sweet
nurse are one is full upon him: but he
refrains from making his thoughts
known to this old gossip.
"Why can't she say where she was,'
says Sir Harry, in a distinctly aggriev-
ed tone this deadly silence is very
injurious to her, eh ?'
"Why should it be injurious to herr.
| asked Sir Rawdop fiorcnlu
/. He turns upon the old baronet with
open wrath in his dark eyes. 1t is in
sufierable to hear her name banded
thus from lip to lip. And yet-her
ner name? Whose name? If he lets
this madness overpower him, what
will the end be? What has that
naughty beauty over there to do with
his gentle nurse? Seeing Sir Harry's
look of amazement he hastens to
change his tone.
"She looks too proud to be subject
| for calumny," he says confusedly, al
most apologetically.
But the old scandal-monger, has
| found him slow, and in nowise a kin
dred spirit; SO he hobbies away from
| him to where Lady Dalruth is stand
ing. Dare, too YEARLY disturbed in
mind to find amusement in his pres
ent surroundings, follows his move
ments with Idle uninterested eyes, but
presently is attracted by something he
hears him saying to hiss hostess.
"Left him at the point of DEATH"
said Sir Harry unctiously, "as he
thought; but it was nothing of the
kind. Gordon recovered almost i'm
mediately. One of the Gordons OF
Calyne, you know Fellow who upset
him was a cousin, and thought to come
in for the property, dye see."
"One of the Gordons of Clayne" isa
bosom friend of Sir Rawdon's, so nat
urally he pricks up his ears.
"What did happen to him?" asks
Lady Dalruth, looking interested.
"Oh, mere trifie! Nothing vital, at
all events. One fellow told me it was
a broken clavicle; another fractured
humerus; but I haven't the faintest
idea what either means"
"You should ask Evelyn for trans
lation. says Lady Dalruth, with mer
ry laugh.
Miss Monteith, who had been listen
ing silently to the conversation, turns
her eyes upon her. Is there entreaty
or simple indifference in her glance?
Ii entreaty, it comes too late; Lady
Dalruth does not even see it.
Miss Monteith ?" asks Sir Harry.
"Yes Didn't you know she has
studied medicine, surgery and all the
rest of it ?"
"You terrify me-" says Sir Harry,
with mock horror.
THAT is quite Il correct feeling for |
the occasion. She is really terribly |
learned Aren't you, Evelyn p
She smiles at the girl, as though in
pleasant appreciation of Jest that is |
known to them alone But Miss Mon |
teith's return smile is forced and very |
faint. |
"Learned? =? no. But l really hare |
some taste for that sort of thing" she |
says quietly; and then turns away as |
if anxious to terminate the conversa /
ton. In so doing, her eyes meet |
Ddre's. There is II pause, in which |
each regards the other with a strange |
anxiety. Then the blood slowly |
mounts to Miss Monteith's brow. until |
all her lovely face is dyed warm
crimson. Her breath comes quickly;
she wavers; then, with last defiant,
glance, she moves awly
and sinks into chair ut the opposite
end of the room.
But to Dare there is no longer even
Il chance for doubt. Just so had she
looked at him when, in moments
passion he had called her EVA" in the
hospital, and she had coldly corrected
him; just so, no doubt, her large,
scornful eyes had rested upon him
during that last fateful hour, when he
had half declared his love, and had
hesitated-and been lost.
With terri, 'e sinking of the heart
he tells himself that he has sinned past
in her eyes. /
The next morning all the world is
clad with snow. The soft white feecy
carpet is covering the land far as the
eye can see, and is lying heavily on
branch and bough. The Christmas
bells are Ginning merrily. A soft
gray mist is trembling between the
earth and sky. Over all, the merry
sun is shining gayly. 1t is indeed an
ideal Christmas morn. ~
Luncheon has come and gone, and
they are all standing before the glow
ing fire in the billiard room discussing
the costumes to be worn at a fancy
iress ball, to be given in the neigh
borhood some time in the ensuing
month.
"One gets so tired of the art rags and
,he past centuries gowns? says Lady
Dalruth dejectedly. 20, for something
lew, something bizarre, out OF the
I'm sure | don't know
What is to be done about Evelyn She
md [ are quite worn out trying to
imagine a costume that all the world
hasn't seen a hundred times before. |
The anxiety has robbed me of my
honest sleep for a fortnight past, | have
70 set my heart on making her sue
cess But each of my ides only seem
more crude than the last. Dear Sir ;
do suggest something"
An uncomfortable impulse takes
lold OF Dare. He glances at Miss
to find she too is looking
uII at him, that dreamy touch of
;corn that had offended him last night
low wide awake within her large eyes.
It spurs him to his Undetermined
purpose.
"Why not try the dress of hospital
nurse ?" he says to Lady Dalruth, pale
put smiling. Il don't recOllect having
ever seen it at bail before, and think
he pretty little cap and apron would
Iuit Miss Monteith admirably"