Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1885-01-29

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quiet remained unbroken; then the
heavy velvet curtains were drawn back,
and Marion stepped out from behind.
Her face was as pallid as ghosts,
her dark eyes were burning with fierce
pride, and very angry; her lips were
trembling with excitement and sup
| pressed resentment.
| A prettier picture of enragcd pride
could not be seen.
Great heaven!" she cried with
passionate stamp. "What deceitl How
often have huilcd the fact in his face
that l was glad, infinitely glad that l
owed him nothing. He calmly heard
me, knowing that it was beggar's de-
fusion he was listening tor She paus-
ed, and her flashing eyes turned on the
chair he had lately occupied. "How
he detests, me, too" she said. IL have
never tried to win his favor-we have
never been friendly, and to think that
| for weeks past, or perhaps months, l
have eaten his bread and spent his mon
ey, thinking it entirely my own. But
it is overt shall not stay. In the
wide world there is surely room for me
to earn my breadr'
ed out. The stars We're shining FROST
lily, but the wild March wind was max
ing havoc of every stray leaf and frag-
ment in its path.
The streets were deserted. 1t was
an unusually bitter night of that blus-
ferrous month, a night when humanity
keeps its head, snail-like, indoors,
when the crackle o. bright fire was
the sweetest sound on earth.
Marion, with a little SILVER, turns
away.
II must go!n she muttered, "not an
other night will stay here beggar on
his bounty. Old Mrs. Chaplin, though
she is poor, will keep me for my moth
er's sake until get something to do
and pay her back" She paused a Sec
ond by Jerome's armchair, and leaned
her arm on the back of it. Il wish-I
wish he did not dislike me so" she
whispered, and the tears tempted the
lustre of her eyes. 1T was my abom-
Unable temper at first, and now he is
tired of me, and would gladly marry
me to. the first coxcomb that asks. -
This mood only lasted second, and
all the old fierceness returned.
But what am / doing?" she said,
dashing away the tears and trying
to control her quivering lips. DO !
not hate this man-this superior being
that treats me as child? Am / not
glad by accident / learned the truth of
my position? Certainly! Am not
delighted at the possibility of feeling
independent, away from his benevolent
smilc9 am; and the time will come
when Jerome Vann will wonder that he
ever laughed at me or my vagaries."
All the warm Southern nature arous-
ed, she went to the desk and began to
write a note to this detested guardian.
'Sir," it dashed off, "ten minutes
since l learned my position in your
house, and il is such an undesirable one
that / renounce it this night. You,
who have disapproved of me so strong
ly, will no doubt be glad to learn that
have broken from your reins and fed
Good night and good-by to you, sir.
MARION.
Up. ST. distinctly and emphatically
refuse to marry Mr.. Burlington"
An hour later she was on the street,
the wind blowing her cloak, and twist
ing her veil until it looked like a signal
of distress.
There was nothing of the heroine
about her as she hurried along, keeping
on the darkest side of the street, her
head lowered, and her tears dropping
thick and fast. Poor Marion! The
first touch of tho world, in which she
stood alone, was cold and blustery.
The weeks passed on by leaden feet.
Advertisements and detectives were
both of no avail, and Jerome Vann's
face grew strangely. old and sad, for
Marion's whereabouts still remained a
mystery.
He loved her far more than he ever
realized. He longed to see that spirit
ed, magnetic face again, and to hear
the pert, merry voice which had made
such drollery of his well-meant advice.
Day after day passed, each one an ex-
act repetition of the preceding one,
and all very weary, sckening blanks to
the rich lawyer in his stately home.
1t was June. Sunny, soft weather
reigned in the city. Roses bloomed ev-
erywhere, in florists windows, in mar
ket carts, in wealthy gardens-every-
where the fragrant punches of different
hued flowers waved in the breeze.
Jerome was standing at his library
window. looking out at the throng Of
promenaders and open carriages dash
ing along. His eyes were no longer
filled with suspense, they were far
worse calm and hopeless.
He had left nothing untriea to dis
cover her Whereabouts, and it had all
been worse than useless. He had been
beating his heart out with pain, in al
ternatc hope and failure, in passionate
longing, and now all was over. With
out any renewed vigor he was still kept
| in professional duties, trying, but vain
| ly, to take up the thread of existence rs
though Marian had never been known
and dearly loved.
lie took up his hat and cane and
went out. His steps led him to Broad
way The thoroughfare was crowded
and he walked slowly along, his moody
iace, with its quietly bitter expression,
| in marked contrast to those around him.
He paused to look at picture which
attracted a number of people. 1t was
| q quaint design in water colors, in the
| shape of a small screen.
| The picture showed the sea on a
( stormy day, with the floating spars and
masts of a wrecked ship appearing
above the angry waves in the distance,
All the coloring of the picture is CEN
tered in two figures on the shore.
One, the dead body of a drowned
sailor, curls lying on his forehead, his
eyes closed, his blue jacket torn, show
ing the powerful chest in which the
heart would never beat again. The