Cheyenne transporter. [volume] (Darlington, Indian Terr.) 1879-1886, 1886-03-04
think she had been crying.

morning my eyes light upon satin
covered ball programme lyin, on the
floor where Ethel must have dropped
it. Picking it up | opened it careless
ly, but my carelessness changes sud-
denly to fixed, startled regard.
Penciled in the space beneath the
list of dancers are these words:
"My darling, let it be tomorrow
evening" will await you, as the clock
strikes eleven, by the great oak at the
end of the drive. Circumstances over
which have no control call me abroad.
Something tells me that if go leaving
you free we will surely be parted.
Your aunt is prejudiced against me,
and you tell me that she can prevent
you from marrying until you are of
age. Oh! my love, you who know how
faithful your devoted Raoul is, / inn
plore you take your fate in your own
hands and consent to my wishes for
secret marriage. IL need only be kept
secret until my return, then we can
confess and be forgiven"
AS / read, Ethel's agitation returns
to me, and l know that unless | save
her my cousin will go to her ruin this
very night. For that ruin it would be
keeping of the unprincipled adventurer
whose hand penned these lines l am
convinced. But how is it to be doneP
l must have help-auntie is out of the
question there is only Hart will ne,
angry at me as he is, come to my as
! sistancep
/ seek him at his law Office. He
meets me coldlv; but his manner
changes as, in earnest, anxious tones,
| pour out my troubles. and. ignoring
his indifferent greeting, implore him,
upon the strength of our old friend
ship, to help me, if it is in his power
to save my cousin from taking the
recoverable step she contemplates.
"Holp youP OF course | will and
can, toor' he eXclaims. "How lucky
YOU came to me--and what q coinci-
dence it is'
"Co.ncidence-in what way?"
ask
"Never mind now," he answers
but cheer up, Joan; all will come
well, promise you. 1t was fort
unate star that led you to me"
That night, instead of retiring, l 81
at my window, from which 1 cal
plainly see the drive, although it il
some little distance away.
The hall clock strikes eleven, an'
Just at that = U:..c.d slight, darl
figure is distinctly visible in the moon
lignt, walking with rapid steps dow
the drive.
: i hold my breath, and my hand
clasp themselves convulsively togeth
er. 1t is Ethel, my poor little delude
cousln!. oh, Hart, do not fail me! IL
does not. 1t is he whom Ethel find
5 awaiting her coming beneath the grea
l oak, and who breaks to her wit
brotherly tenderness the story he ha
to tell, and then with soothing, an
o yet authoritative, kindness leads he
: back to the house.
> All this learn afterward, not rigl
=, away; for it is some tine before, wit
;. face, now flushed with contriI
. shame, and now wan rs n first sprin
snow drop, Ethel conlesses the seer
y she little thinks l have known a
along (for Hart never told her how
- gained his information).
. Though grieved and horror-stricke
" aunt.e maGnanimously reirains fro
saying, Il told You son' as the exte
p of Raoul De Nere's vllainy is unveile
u IL shall write and ask Hart to con
X up this evening"" auntic says. "B
)i for him | shudder to think OF the al
tress in which we would ali be plum
e ed"
el For the benefit OF the reader,
Il will here enter into little explain
~ tion:
The very day before that in which
IN carried my trouble to Hart, there n
applied to him for legal assistance
young woman, II foreigner, who h