The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1886-02-24

has told you of our runaway match when
he was at college, and how angry poor
mamma was, and hushed the matter up,
and carried me away to Europe to finish
my school days there. And there it was
that mamma made her brilliant second
marriage-a real, true German baron and
we went away to Vienna to live. But
first died; for one must die-must not
one2-to get into paradise. Brian would
never have let me go there alive, so l
sent him lock of my hair and a little
scrawling deathbed note inclosed in
letter from mammals maid, who had
helped us to run away the year before.
You remember Fifine Brianl She has
come over with me now. Such clever
soull 1 can't tell how l should
ever, without her, have man
aged to keep myself informed
of your movements, and of course 1 had
to do that for all widowers aren't so con-
slant, and you might have married, you
know"
He interrupted her, hoarse with pas
sion: "And how do l know that you"
'Oh, Brian, how can you'll AS if that
were not just what my stepfather and /
qudIIcleu dDOuJ! AlleT uGdT uldHllud
died-she died last year" with a pretty,
plaintive fall in voice and eyelids, come
and gone as swiftly as a child's grave
look)-'he was quite set on making
match for me; and of course that
wouldn't do at ALL you know. Dear
mamma was content to let me enjoy life
my own way; but after she was gone,
the steppapa became just little difficult.
And so - Well, Brian, | knew you were
no longer poor man, and that should
not drag you down now. And so l have
come back to you, if you will have me-"
She put out her hands then in the pret-
tiest pleading way. If 1 had been a
man
But Brian did not soften in the least.
He had pent up his wrath now, and had
it under his control; but his voice was
still hoarse as he said to her:
81 shall take pains to learn whether all
this is truth. Meanwhile we will not
trespass any longer upon Miss Deane's
patience. l shall take you back to my
house, and will set out within the hour
for Vienna. Miss Deane will par
DON
There he broke off huskily. He had
not once lifted his eyes to me since first
they fell upon her shadow, which the
waning sunset cast between us.
But-how | had the strength do not
know-but went straight up to her and
took her hand, and kissed her on the
pretty smooth white brow as she lifted
up her face to mine. Is there woman
born who can keep anger for pretty
child? And there are some people who
never outgrow the charm and irresponsi-
bility of childhood; if they pluck at
ones heart-strings with their careless
fingers until one could be stung into
giving them blow or shake, one must
kiss and be friends afterward. And then
l turned to him-I must have had
vision of how it would all end: for she
was wonderfully fair; she had been his
first love; she would be his last.
turned to him.
81 am sure you will find all as she has
said, and that you will forgive her. l
don't think shall be here still when you
come back from your long journey, so
you must let me give you my best wishes
now"
Our hands met for an instant-not our
eyes; we neither of us could bear that.
Then our hands fell apart, and presently
l was alone.
My day was over; twilight darkened in
window, grey and blank.
And after twilight?
Just paragraph in book have been
turning over by my solitary fireside to-
night has set me thinking of ali this. 1t
says:
'"There are women who live all their
lives long in the cold white moonlight of
other peoples reflected joy. 1t is not
bad kind of light to live, after all. 1t
may leave some dark, ghostly corners in
the heart unwamed, but like other
moonlight, it lets a great deal be seen
overhead that sunshine hides Harper's
Weekly.
A Lucky COnfectiOner.