The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1886-03-03

mofe and more by myself-it was snch
torture to hear his praises. As for Sim
clair, he idolized her. had never in
my most romantic dreams imagined
such love as he gave to her.
Every thing she said or did. every
garment she wore. was perfect in his
eyes; and he could not refrain from
talking of her wonderful virtues to me.
l had to listen and endure it, although
1t was slow torture. ....r
l felt a perfect hell in my breast often
as listened.
She was constantly thoughtful for
every one about her, and seemed to
live only to make others happy. l
never saw so unselfish nature as hers.
At first she used to make me her con-
tidante, and tell me of her happiness
in Sinclairs love, and dwell upon his
virtues and goodness. But after a
time she ceased that, too. l think she
felt that did not enjoy her
confidence, and she drew more within
herself
As for myself, used to actually hope
and pray for some unhappiness to come
between their hearts. believe now that
l did admit an evil spirit to my breast.
who constantly whispered devilish ideas
in my ear.
Finally Sinclair began to build.
Millicent was radiant with delight, and
they were constantly making plans and
talking of the new home, and Sinclair
would ask me every now and then for
suggestion; but always had some
excuse to take me away.
One day we stood before tall mir
ror together-quite by accident. | was
struck by the difference in our faces.
We were just of an age, but my selfish,
mercenary, jealous and envious feel
ings had married my face, until looked
almost ten years her senior. Nature
had made me much the handsomer Of
the two, and yet l could see that she
possessed tenfold the attractions did
at that time.
This only increased my hatred, and
if l could have marred her features
then and there with some terrible scar
would have done it, Always in pres
ence of Sinclair, I tried to appear kind
and cordial, for did not want him to
read my mortified pride and wounded
love, though now my love for him had
turned into dislike. Since he belonged
to her he was hateful in my sight.
By and by a new cause OF misery to
me was added. There was to be ere
many months passed another tie to
bind her to Sinclair and Colonel Mon
roe.
When realized this l felt a madden
ing fury take possession Of me.
Little by little, unconsciously We,
surely by the force of her own worth
and her many virtues, she had crowded
me out of the place had grown tt
think was my own.
My stepfather worshiped her; Sinclair
loved her to idolatry; and even the ser
wants and the neighboring people could
talk of nothing but 'sweet Lady Mill
cent" I was thrust aside, sighted
forgotten. Yet it was my own fault
Nobody can help loving sweet, smil
ing, unselfsh and amiable person ii
preference to a black-browed, frown
ing, cold, selfish being. had not made
myself worthy Of love, and I hated hel
because she had; and now she was te
bestow last priceless blessing upor
the race, blessing which l had beer
denied the right of bestowing.
One evening just in the cleaning
walked down the garden toward rus
tic seat near large rose tree. In order
to reach the seat I had to descend sew
eral steps. They were fiat steps-cu
from quarry stone, and brought anG
laid there. As l placed my foot on thu
second stair it tottered and tipped un
der my weight. There had been Sc
we're storm recently, and the earth hat
washed away, leaving no foundation
for the slab to rest upon. fell as thu
step gave way beneath me and bruised
my knee. .. .r.f "Hs
~ must tell John about this to
night" thought, "and he must attend
to it tomorrow. It's dangerous
place."
l sat down on the rustic bench.
had scarcely seated myself, when saw
Millicent approaching with her basket
and scissors; she was coming to gather
roses to decorate the house.
As she neared the steps was on thu
point of calling out to her to be careful
when the devil in my heart babe me b.
silent.
"Let her look out for herself" h,
whispered. 'It's none of your bust
ness. II you had not come down herr
you would not be responsible for wha
happened to her, and she can not ex
pect you to follow her about to guart
her from danger"
While the evil spirit whispered. it al
happened.
She stepped upon the treacherou
stone, it tipped under her weight ant
precipitated her forward upon her face
ran to assist her to her feet, now thor
oughly frightened and Mortified at m,
own wickedness, but she did not seen
badly hurt, only slightly bruised.
THAT is Q dangerous place." sh
said. John must attend to it to-mor
row."
Even then at that moment it mad
me angry to hear her speak in such
tone of command concerning the prem
ises and the servants.
| That night the household wa
alarmed by the sudden illness of Lad,
Millicent. At dawn, in spite OF tn
best medical skill, she lay dead, witt
her tiny dead infant upon her breast.
4 l was Mortified at the result of m,
J wicked silence. Yet the full punish
ment came later in the day.
During the afternoon the sharp re
port of a pistol sounded through tn
pines. 1t came from the room wher