The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1885-05-21

back looking so pale and worn
Forgive me, cousin, that l hav,
gained your secret And then,
little later, Mr.. Persons deepe
tones:
"She is too artless to conceal he
preference for him, and feel NOR
keenly than can tell the power m.
rival yields
"Yopr rival, Frankr' with an in
credulous laugh; show could such ;
man rival your"
l did not catch the answer, but s
moment later, as they came agaiI
beneath my window, 1 heard him
quote with mocking laugh:
"What care l how fair she be,
If she be not fair for me?''
Il do care, though" he added
with a sigh, struggle against it as
L may" And then their voices
died away, and was left with as
keen pain at my heart as / had
ever known. did not know 1 was
capable of such depths of compass
sion, but what else could such a
feeling be?
l needed but the few words I had
heard to bring the whole story be-
fore me. Some beautiful city girl
had stolen this proud mans heart
for jest, the plaything of an hour
and now he was suffering from her
vain caprice.
1 scorned her for preferring an
other and doubly scorned the man
who stood as Mr.. Persons rival.
had a right so to feel, Cecil, for
had he not saved my life? But to
what purpose was it saved? l often
ask. Heaven knows place no val
ue on it now.
1 long for something all the while.
1t must be you,. Cecil, and as l have
just caught the CLEAN of the majors
cigar in the arbor, 1 shall leave you
moment, and run down to prefer
to him a request tnat has been
trem bling on my lips for days.
LATER.-He was sitting alone as
l entered, and throwing myself on
the seat beside him, 1 caught his
hand in mine. "Mai. Person." l
cried impetuously, "if ask you
something very near my heart, you
will not refuse will youY
A sudden, fond movement, by !
which was drawn close to his side,
gave me encouragement to proceed,
as laid my head upon his shoul-
der. "I have a very dear friend in |
Belleview. Can you not spare me
to make her visitP'
mo, Beatrix," after a moment
came the reply; "do not expect
such a sacrifice from me, for / can
not give you up" and Frank Pier
son started impulsively from my
side to the door, where he stood in
the shimmering moonlight.
Startled for a moment, out of all
1 stood motienless, and
then said, proudly:
"You have taken an unfair advan
,age of me, Mr.. Pierson. Be kind
to let me pass
Forgive me, Beatrix," he cried,
passion ately, as he put out de-
aiming hand. "Do not leave me, 1
peg. l have been for days the prey
% harassing fear; tonight / am
determined to be relieved from Its
suspense, no matter how bitter the
certainty may be-"
"Tell me truly" lowering his
Yoioe to an intense whisper, ''do
you care anything for Charlie Keel
larT'
For q moment l was silent, and
hen 1 answered mockingly, for his
words had brought a glad enlight
,nment to my heart
"Yes, Mr.. Pierson Il do really care
or Mr.. Keeldar. / consider him
me of the NEST entertaining gentle
nen l have ever met"
He turned his face away and 1
could see the pain and pallor even
n the pallid moonlight.
"And that is not the highest light
n which you regard him either,
3eatrix,' he said with a sigh.
Indeed it is," 1 said, gayly, a6-
ling, in low tone, "Tis some one
Use whom 1 regard in a brighter
md better light"
@Seme one else," wearily. "Ah,
veil, what does it matter, since he
s still my rival?"
"He is not your rival" 1 said,
With downcast eyes.
"He is, Beatrix, if he loves you,"
vas the quiet reply.
"He loves me-" 1 said, in an ex-
lltant tone; "still be is not your
iYal."
"Beatrix, you torture me; tell me,
beg, what do you mean"
Again l was for moment silent,
hen at last, venturing to raise my
yes, found his lit with SO rare a
and bent so earnestly up
IN me that 1 knew my secret was
nine no longer, and that l should
lave to yield at last.
Darling. he cried as he drew
ne toward him, 81 understand.
Your sweet eyes say, He is not
vour rival while my own heart
he loves her very truly"
We were happy, Cecil, in proper
ion to the jealousy and suspense
We both had experienced. How
could we have been so hlind2 And
gained my point at last, Ce, dear,
or in two weeks | am to be with
you fer a brief visit, and then l
will tell you thousand things this
;eeble medium, my pen, refuses to
convey. Good bye, my Cecil, until
hen. Your fond and happy
TRIxIE.
"And so your man has quit clerk