The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1885-07-18

Willis Dean. We will wait till lie goes,
for do not like to meet him " .
Even as she spoke the figure arose, and
the sound Of his voice came on the twi-
light air, distinct and clear.
"And what of this love affair, friend
Neil2 When is it to end, and how2 Are
you really in earnest, and do you mean
to marry the grip"
Cora Smiths hand closed upon the
arm of Madge till she shrank In pain
while they waited for the answer. Neil
Rowan laughed softly.
"Marry herP' he repeated. ''She is
just the subject for grand Irritation,
and assure you have done this thing
well. But for anything further-bah l
am going back to town tomorrow, and
this is our last meeting; so be off, old
fellow, for expect her every moment"
Just for one moment Madge Smiths
heart stood still in awful fear, for she
thought Cora was dying. That white,
CHASTITY face there in the twilight, that
motionless figure, those tightly locked
hands, it surely was not the fair, sweet
maiden of moment before But the
spasm passed, and, without q word, she
arose and glided noiselessly away, and
Madge followed her in silence,
Neil Rowan waited until the light had
all died out of the west, and the dew lay
like summer rain on the grass at his feet.
His cigar was smoked down to ashes, and
his lazy revery was broken by the cry of
the whip-poor-wil.
"She isn't coming tonight" he said
mentally; "that is certain. The schem-
ing auntie up yonder managed to pre-
vent 1t this time. Oh, well, il. saved a
scenel l will drop loving, farewell
note, and so it ends-a summers amuse-
ment. Ia, HUMP and Neil Rowan
strolled homeward, singing, half-uncon-
sciously, 81 won't have her, know-I
won't have her, know-I don't care a
straw who has her, know"
The farewell note came to Cora Smith
the following night, but the fever-bright
eyes never rested on the creamy page,
for, ere the insane light gave place to
reason again, death scaled the white
ejelids. To such natures as this girls,
love is life, and the rude blow that woke
her from the one bright dream of her
youth, snapped the slender cord that
bound her frail spirit to earth, and out
of the depths of her awful grief, the
kindly hand of death led her to the
mountain-top, where is builded the city
of the New Jerusalem.
Day by day, week by week, month by
month, so sped the time until eight
years were counted. Eight times the
grass had grown over the little grave in
the lonely, country graveyard, and again
the October winds rustled the scarlet
leaves over the narrow mound.
Wonderful changes had the eight years
brought. Side by side with this grave
were two others, and the headstones
bore the names of good aunt and uncle
Smith. They had rested there six years;
and every summer beautiful Madge
Smith came down from her city mansion,
and fingered in the old home a week,
trimming the grasses and planting
bright flowers on the mounds. Bright,
beautiful Madge Smith, the heire& of
all Uncle Smiths hidden wealth, the
wealth he guarded so well during that
toil-worn, weary life.
Three years before, Madge Smith left
school, to reign queen of society.
Beautiful, strangely beautiful, with that
cold, white, high-brcd face, those wide
fathomless, glittering amber eyes, fig
ure matchless in symmetry and grace,
accomplished, polished, and the heiress
of great wealth, no wonder that lovers,
old and young, knelt at Madgc Smiths
shrine. Strange wonder, the world said,
that all were scorned-not gently and
with words of pity and apology, but
spurn from her very feet with scornful
lips and blazing eyes.
Ay, Madge Smith was an enigma and
mystery to all who knew her. No
warmer friend, no brighter companion
did those of her own seek for. But
never were those lips seen TO smile, or
those wonderful eyes to soften, in re-
sponse to any lovers; no glacier was
more frigid than she TO all men. All,
did l say? Nay, Dame Rumor had
plenty of gossip just now. Only few
weeks since q new rival appeared on the
scene of action. Neil Rowan, merchant
and millionaire, entered the list of
Madge Smiths adorers-not for her
wealth, surely, Madame Grundy ac-
knowledged graciously. He had enough
of his own. 1t was genuine love that
this blase man of society felt for beauti-
full Madge. And a wonderful change
had come over the fair lady since his ap-
pearance. Bright before, she was bril-
liant now-sparkling, witty, ,bewildering;
and the world looked on in amaze to see
the flush stain her white checks, and the
bright smile that lighted her eyes at his
approach.
And did he not recognize her, you are
wonderingp Nay, how should hep Sweet
Cora Smith, and the summer in the
country, were forgotten things with this
man. He had broken half dozen silly
hearts since then, and left them all with |
Time, the great healer. He had flirted
with society's queens and village maid
ems innumerable, and left the past all
behind him. And now he came and
laid the first pure, real love OF his life
time at this woman's feet. So he told
her, one autumn night, in the grand
parlor of her stately home.
How her hands trem hled and shar ewes