The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1885-07-15

or whether he gave il all back to her
| not?s
Then, moment later. the passio,
dying out of her voice 1T is a Ion
time ago, l must forget All. no. nc
that would be paying too dear. woul
rather know that you were happy
eyen,' smiling more softly. with her
| She looked good and kind: perhaps ,whel
he saw her, he had not the courage &
| tell her. and so sacrificed himself-an,
me. Perhaps. better so. It would b
something saved out of the wreck.
She did not close the window. but re
sumed her pacing up and down. it seem
ed TO bring back the ealmnesS she need
ed.
Il am old enough to be less excitable
Ii almost seems ike those past foolish
happy days
Her thoughts then drifted to the yisi
tor OF whom her father had spoken. ans
she paused once again by the open win
dow
@Why is he coming?p she said. liftin.
her eyes TO the dark sky. Il do not wisl
10 see him. almost defiantly. Though
after all, what difference does it max,
who comes or who STAYS away?s
But no shadow of the previous nigh
was about her as, IN the small morning
room, which looked on to the garden
she sat making tea the following even
ing for Mr.. Carteret. the man of WHOSE
advent her father had spoken. He wa,
a tall. dark-haired, dark-eyed man.-nC
greater contrast could have been found
than between him and the fair-haire6
stranger who had won his way into Mr.
Lorraine S heart so long ago. And yet
this was the only man in whom Sydney
could recall her father being much in.
terested since.
And it is selfish of me not to be very
civil to him also" she thought. ~foI
there are not many men who can share
his tastes"
Stirred by the thought. she reused
herself to- talk. The sketches proved a
good Introductory topic.
Tomorrow, if it is fine. t" he said with
a glance at the rain pouring down out
of doors, Il shall go forth and explore
the country; and If not. there are several
drawings | should be glad TO take from
the house itself. Theone of the opposite
building-I should imagine the older
part of the house, taken from the room
above this-would make a charming
picture"
Il wish l could draw she interposed.
for should like 10 have just that bit
1t IS charming All, but" with mo-
mentary enthusiasm. 1T should be done
in summer, when the aeacias are in
leaf,-or on starlit summer night. =
her hands elasping and unclasping,-~f
IS dream of lovelinesS then. | should
like to have it,
He looked at her as if surprised at
the unwonted stir in the tones, but he
saw she was not looking at him, and the
SnffnaSc xra,.elfaI 4.
Il Will come down and do it for YOU"
he said. Show me what you would like,
and | Will do my very best"
Thank you. you are very kind" she
answered. But, unfortunately, YOU
have to leave out of a picture the thou
sand scents OF a summer night. the
thousand gentle sounds which make it
into living reality. But it is kind of
you to offer to do it forme, and should
value it. Some day, you know. | sup
pose, il live long enough, shall have
TO leave here, and short stout man
who hunts five days week will take
possession. And as he cannot hunt here.
L don't suppose he viii love it quite as
much as | do"
"It must always be bitter thing to
make new home," he said. and felt
that il was purely conventional phrase.
which carried not the slightest weight.
at must, l should think" she answer
ed. But, come, rs it is so wet, we viii
explore the house now. and find bits
for your pencil
Il do not know why il is" was his
thought, as he followed her about the
house, Il always feel sorry for her,
though surely there is no need. Every
one says she is proud and cold. but | do
not always think so. Sometimes il
seems to me as if she would willingly
take more interest, if she could What
stands between her and life? Is it that
she is satisfied with the present, or is it
that she has past?"
will you come for walk" he asked
her one afternoon. 1t was late, nearly
four O'Clock, but it had rained all day,
and she had not been out. and at the
suggestion she rose at once.
ut would be very pleasant. 1t has
stopped raining" +" looking out of the win
low. Il will put on my hat"
Very little later they were making
their way ,sagainst the clustering wind,
through the narrow village street.
rs it too rough for you?" he asked.
NO, enjoy it," she declared. we
viii go above to the pine-wood: l love
the sound of wind in pine-trees.'
You are sure it viii not tire you?"
1T is staying at home and waiting
that tires one" she answered quickly.
Do not you also think that?"
Il should think it must be so, but that
IS rarely mans fate"
NO. it is a woman's."
He turned his head quickly. 1t tsound-
I'd to him as if the words came with
sob. but perhaps the strong wind had
taught her breath. for the road they
we're toiling up was very steep. He
paused moment, however.
There is no use offering you an arm
then he said you are far too indie
pendent to take it, even if you were
tired"
Even if | were tired she repeated,
which am not. But | am grateful all
.he same"
80, youare not. Nothing that /
could do for you, nothing that l could
)ffer YOU, would you ever be grateful
for. You would say thank you because
It is conventional to say thank you,'
and you are too well-mannered to for
get it."
Well, it is no concern of mine," he
went on. BE happy in your own way.
\ ou know what | came down here to
say to you. You have put me off day
by day, but | could not go without say
ing it. My love is yours-has been
yours, I think, since the first day | saw
you. There is no hope in my heart, but
could not go back leaving the words
lnsaid. You need not even answer
is there to answer? You
can only reply you know it. and that
you do not care for my love; but all the
same it is yours, TO do what you will
with"
She moved step away when he had
spoken.
You need not be afraid he said; Il
am going to say nothing more-noth-
ing. And you need not move; you have
the knack of making man feel as if he
stood so far away, that his words could
scarcely reach you"
He spoke bitterly, and she lifted her
eyes with something that might have
been appeal in them; and her voice was
a little unsteady as: Forgive me-" she
Il do not mean TO be lnkind.
but | can only say that | should not be
happier married. No" regaining steadi-
ness of tone, do not sayanything more;
| should not like to lose your friend
ship"
That is for your fathers sake, not
for your own. But even on those terms.
[ would rather keep it, though it is not
much"
You will forget" she said.
Il do not think So" he answered quiet
". but he made no further protesta-
tions.
Almost IN silence they returned. I'm
der the circumstances it was difficult to
prolong the walk, besides it was grow
ing dusk, so they went back the way
they had come.
The dinner hour was rather a terrible
ordeal to look forward to under the cir
Sydney wished it well over
many time as she dressed. 1t was
difficult TO talk as if nothing had hap
pened. and yet it must be.
HE viii soon forget. lie viii go away
tomorrow, and when next we meet"