The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1885-06-27

all to her. She had taught her lessor
we'll, for not once had she betrayed the lit
tie personal reproof in her long argument
and he had learned it blindly and was su
premely happy. Though this did mo-
quite break down the barrier which he hat
raised between himself and other men, he
became less morbid and more cheerful
while hope grew stronger in his heart
every day, a hope which he knew that ht
must suppress, but-at least he might wai1
a little wniie longer. he thought.
#
1t is a still, moonlight night in Septem.
Der, Hilda was home again at Holme- Wood;
after short summer trip to the continent
and leaned from her window anxious anc
unhappy. She had read all that she dreaded
IN the thin, eager, radiant face of Geral6
as he welcomed her the day before: and she
had promised Ronald to answer the ques
ton that would decide their lives, on he,
return home. They had left him at Calais
ne might be in Keswick any day. Fol
hours she sat at her window. The hills
ioomed darkly against the sky, and the
murmur of the stream which flowed below
shining like thread of silver through the
night, made no impression on her. Once
a low sob broke the silence. then her moth
er came from the adjoining apartment and
kneellng beside her asked tenderly, "Tell
mother what it is, my darling?"
Hllda kissed her warmly and dried her
tears, " am SO silly, mother dear. 1 sup
pose am tired and out of sorts, now don't
be worried, like dear, sweet mother as you
are" And she smiled as her mother bade
her good night and left the room only half
satisfied at Hilda's excuse, but she knew
that hearts, like flowers, are bruised by
| being forced open, so she was silent, only
praying that no sorrow might touch her
darling, while Hilda's prayer would have
broken her mothers heart, had she heard her
child ask that God would give her strength
to bear the sorrow which she feared would
end her life. She did not descend till noon
| the next day, and then her parents saw no
change in her usual bright cheerfulness.
Three days passed quietly and the fourth
brought Ronald to Keswick. He came at
once to Holme-Woods and was ushered
into morning room. miss Ranesford
would see him there in few moments" the
grave footman announced.
He had never been into this room before;
beautiful cool room full of little woman
iy touches, Hilda's easel, and dainty sewing
table, piano with the song she had last
sung lying upon it: her harp and guitar,
and all manner of pretty things, while the
wide shaded windows opened upon her own
rose garden. He felt greatly encouraged
by his reception, and waited, tenderly turn
ing over some delicate embroidery. She
came to him at once, but alas for human
hopes, for though they were together for
nearly two hours, it was very pale and
passionate man who stepped down into the
rose garden. Hilda stood in the window.
the soft lace blowing across her pale face
and dark piteous eyes. He turned to her.
pleading eagerly, Hilda, think of it once
again, do you mean to kill both yourself
and me? Hilda, you cannot say that you do
not love me, you dare not; do you know
what you are about? And how will it be
when he knows?"
I'VE have discussed it all. He will never
know" she answered in a low, panied tone.
Is there no hope for me?''
None," she answered YEARLY, with a
pleading glance for pity.
81 will never see your face again if YOU
speak to him."
"Oh. do not make my misery worse than
tits" she cried, fearing the look in his eyes.
He held her closely. "Do you remem-
Der your promise? Oh! Hilda, Hilda, I
cannot let you CO."
The promise was wrung from me, I
mean to do all in my power to forget it,"
she said tremulously.
You carry your sense of duty too far"
he said sternly. "Do you think that can
do as you bid me, and find another wife?
Forget that promise; never." Suddenly
she was powerless in his embrace, a long
burning kiss upon her lips and she was
alone, knowing that her only love had gone
from her forever.
CHAPTER III.
- He jests at scars, who never felt VIC und'
!" Truth forever on the scaffold Wron. for
ever on the THRONE"
A week after, and Gerald, lying at her
feet as they sat in the garden at sunset, re-
marked quietly, trying to read her face the
while: Mr.. Tracy has gone away to
eyes," she answered calmly, he thought
indifferently. He stood up before her:
You sent him away?"
"Ies," very low. He knelt at her feet
the dark eyes gazing eagerly into her own
as he whispered, "Why?"
She turned her face away moment as
the color rushed over it for far different
reason than the one he supposed. "For
your sake,'' she answered inaudibly.
It is spring again: young Mrs. Pembroke
has returned from her American tour and
is now at Pembroke Hall, sitting alone
with her husband on the porch of her new
home. The marriage has begun to be a
reality to her; it seemed as if she had
passed through strange dream, where her
mother had begged her to think we'll before
she married man whose health was as
uncertain as Gerald's, and her father had
held his cherished treasure very tenderly
and with fearful eyes asked her if she was
very sure that her heart was strong enough
to bear sorrow, begging her to try and give
him up if she could, for he feared for her
happiness. She remembered as if in
dream how he encouraged her after that,