Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1886-09-06

aYes, godfather" Grace answered,
softly, hanging her pretty head, and con-
tributing few more tears to the watery
meadow.
4And what kind of letter did you write,
my dearsr ask the colonel, gently
Il am afraid it was a very foolish one.
was so sorry for him, poor fellow-so sorry
to think of him being alone, dying, N
wretched lodging-and / begged hlm 10
get well for my sake, and told him that l
would be true to him in his poverty, ana
that if he would be content to walt 1or
me till l could win my fathers consent to
our marriage, and be constant to me, as
would be to him, perhaps for years,
would give him the promise that he had
so often pleaded for in those beautiful
letters"
II am very glad you made the matter
contingent on your fathers consent, my
love-" said the colonel, cheerily. The
business is not half so bad as l thought.
Was there anything more in your let
teri"
"Only that if my father should refuse
his consent to our engagement l would
never marry any one else. So far at least
was my own mistress l might be al
lowed to marry him. loved my father
too well to be disobedient or rebellous.
But pledged myself to be true to Victor
even in lifelong severance"
"Whew.' exclaimed the colonel. "A
pretty kettle of fish, And is that why you
numerically snubbed young Colchester,
the master of the hounds, when we were
out cub-hunting the other morning.
Il am not aware that l snubbed Mr..
Colchester" said Grace blushing furi-
ously.
"Oh, but he was aware Of it. You
treated him shamefully Such a nice
young fellow, too, ana So particularly at
tentive to you-opening gates and max
ing way for you at fences, and lingering
by your side to talk when he ought to
have no eyes except for those young
hounds of his, until at last you drove him
away by sheer incivility. When man is
lord of the manor and master of the
hounds he hardly expects to be treated
like that"
Il have nothing to do with Mr.. Colches-
ter's expectations" answered Grace, toss
ing up her head, but with tears still in the
sweet hazel eyes. at is cruel of you to
talk like that, godfather, when l have told
you that am bound to poor Victor by a
most sacred promise"
after the death-bed betrothalS"
1--WE only met once after that, for my
last term at Madame Sartori's was just
coming to an end; my father and mother
were coming to fetch me. Victor came to
the Louvre ON the very last day painted
there looking like ghost, poor fellow,
and with a feverish light in his eyes. He
ought not to have left his bed; but he was
data IN hafn T hon
to England. His poor hand trembled like
a leaf when we shook hands He thanked
me with tears in his eyes for my letter,
and implored me to keep my promise. He
said he was prepared to wait a lifetime
for me; but he hoped to overcome my
fathers objection to our marriage in
year or so, when he should have sold
few pictures and exhibited in the Salon
Directly l have a little money and a shred
of reputation l shall come to Darnel and
ask for your hand boldly he said l told
him that my father was the most generous
of men, and that had plenty of money
for both of u.s."
"And so you parted And you have
corresponded with him ever since, l con-
clude?"
1--WE have correspondence intervals.
Victor writes the loveliest letters; but he
is very irregular correspondent. Some
times month goes by without my hear
ing from him, and am tortured by the
idea that he is ill or dying-dead, perhaps;
while l am amusing myself playing
tennis, and going to parties, in ignorance
of his fate. And then comes "A long
eloquent letter explaining his silence He
has been ill and out of spirits, too de-
pressed to write, afraid to plague me with
his misery-or he has been working a
picture like demon, only to have it re-
fused at the Salon"
"Not cheerful correspondent" said the
colonel. And now, Oracle, my pet, my
darling whom 1 can remember a chubby
baby in a white frock and blue shoulder
knots, and with little blue shoes-how
proud you were of those little shoes!-now
tell me, honestly, frankly, bravely, are
you desperately in love with this young
French painter, whose face your father
has never SEEM"
Continued to morroU.)