Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1886-03-17

at seeing me there, but sat down be
side me and began TO talk on indiffer,
/ cut subjects. | could not listen to he
i was in a fever of anxiety for Hugh
arrival, and, aftera little time 1 saw
that she was Ill at ease, that she evi
IDENTIFY had something of Importance t,
Say.
Il know you expected to meet Hugh
she said at length; ''but he WAS obliged
TO go to London this morning on bust
| ness"
S''Did he leave no message for me?'
l asked, quite unable to control the un
steajlnesS of my voice.
'Oh, yesl' she answered careleSsly
lie told me to tell you he had gone"
But he should have told me him
self!" said passionately, and thei
stopped short, for | was determined
not 10 give her the satisfaction of see
ing that cared; and 1 knew she wa
watching me keenly.
'Weil, 1 suppose he knew that bes
himself" she replied coldly. 81 car
only give you the message he left with
me-" and then we both sat silent.
knew she mad come there for pur-
pose, and waited to hear what 1t was
BY no word or look of mine should sht
receive any encOura cement. She mov-
ed restlessly two or three times, and
turning her head away from me, began
in low unsteady voice, strangely un
like her usual dear full tones.
MY mother told me- she sail
that she spoke to you last night about
an engagement that once existed be
tween Hugh and me.'
Yes" answered quietly. | knew
now what was coming, and had braced
myself to bear it without flinching.
She went on hurriedly, after pause,
as il she wanted to get her task oveI
quickly.
''I suppose she told you how it was
broken off; and of course, when We
came here, we knew he was to marry
you"
Yes" said again it was the only
word could utter. My brain was
reeling, and her voice sounded a long
way off; but sat calm and still, wait
ing for what we'll knew WAS coming
| WAS not prepared for her next move.
knees before me, and, raising her eyes
streaming with tears, she sobbed out
''Oh, Maggie, We love each other
still You will release him from his
promiSe-you will let him come back to
me? You can't love him as do, as ]
have done for yearSF'
Not love him as she did! The words
made me almost smile in my misery.
DO you think" / said proudly,
THAT would not marry any man who
did not love me? If so, you are mis-
taken; you need not be the least afraid
of my being a bar to your happiness
You can tell your lover that / release
him freely from his engagement, and |
wish him all the success he deserves "
She still crouched at my feet, and, as
| looked down on her, | acknowledged
'her to be a beautiful woman and a
finished actress, and, as such. admir-
ed her. Bur felt l could have slam
her as she knelt there, SO unlike her
usual proud self, so humble and tear
full and passionate. --. .---
Maggie you are not angW?" she
asked. Twill you forgive me Tor what
/ have done? Remember he loved me
before he saw YOU"
II am not likely to forget it," l said
bitterly. ''Of course am not angry
with you; you are perfectly right to act
as you are doing. 1t would have been
endless misery for both him and me If
| had married him In ignorance and
discovered the truth afterwards.
AS spoke rose to go. My strength
was failing, and l wanted to be alone
before L gave way. But she caught my
hand, and said eagerly
''You have been so good, Maggie, so
unlike what l expected, that l know
you will do one more thing for me,
and that is, that you will write to
Hugh TO tell him you have changed
your mind, instead OF having an inter-
view with him."
Whatever you Ike" said indiffer-
emily.
1t never struck me that the request
was strange one; the one idea that
my mind could grasp was that l had
lost Hugh for ever. and l no more
doubted the truth Of her story than If
he had told it to me himself.
At last got away, and hurried home
through the shady beauty of the wood,
like hunted creature seeking a refuge
knew that there, at least, l was sure
of love and sympathy. that there was
no fear of my being in the way OF him
dering any ones happiness.
OF the days that followed l can write
nothing; it was a dark time in my life
which l cannot recall without shud-
der. l wrote to Hugh as l had prom
ised, and received in answer a few for
NAL lines thanking me for my gener-
osity and saying that he should always
take an interest in my welfare, but
making not the slightest allusion to his
own prospects.
After that, my life settled down to a
drearg routine, which seemed as If 1t
would never be interrupted. Hugh did
not return to the chase; and was glad
of it, for 1 dreaded having to meet him
again. But Mrs. Hilliard and her
daughter remained there; and 1t some
times struck me as being strange that
Blanche's lover did not hasten back to
her side. However she said nothing
about it herself, and l was only too
thankful that the subject was avoided.
1t may have been fancy on my part;
but certainly thought that she was
thinner and paler than when first saw
her. and that her face had often an
anxious restless expression that was
foreign to it. But again l used to
think that it was only my own imagi-
nation, and that surely she could not
be unhappy when Hugh loved her. l
seldom saw her, as we mutually avoid
ed each other, and, if by accident we
met. our demeanor was constrained and
formal. A vivid remembrance OF the
interview in the wood seemed present
to both of us.
And SO the long hot summer days
went slowly by, and L never dreamed
of what was coming-had. no idea but
that my present life would continue to
its end in the dull uneventful routine
in which it was now passed.
In the gray of the early dawn one
morning was reused from sleep by
summons to Blanche Hilliard's death
bed, After she had gone to her room
on the previous night, her dress had In
- ,o,,obf fro and before the