The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-01-17

from the place and leave you, and stand it as
best could-but won't. You like my cousin,
why should you hate mel"
''Your cousin is very different from you" said
Nell.
He stopped short and stared at her.
$50 he is, by Jove!' he said, "but that has
never been boarded up against me- "A fellow
like that" in an outburst.
| Nell stopped him.
"It is worthy Of you.r she cried, "that you
should feel so secure in that-in the difference
1t is worthy of you to speak of him as he does
not speak of you"
He looked abashed little.
swell, he said, almost humbly. perhaps it
wasn't the thing-but-but," with sudden ac-
cess of heat, 'if he is worthy of your notice
am, by George. That know"
They had nearly reached the gate. 1t was the
most beautiful afternoon-the little blue waves
Tapped the sand with soft, caressing sound,
the sun, on setting, threw deep golden lights and
deep purple shadows across the lawn; the air was
full of the perfume of flowers. Nell felt it all in
tensely without knowing why. She even thought
it strange that she should notice the beauty of
the hour, when she was SO overwrought by other
| things.
IF were to say to you, she began, that
this is what gentleman would not do, it would
not matter to you"
mo-" he said, iercely, sit wouldn't-not in the
least A man always likes woman to say things
like that to him."
IF were to say to you" she went on, shat
ayes gentleman would go away"
| II wouldn't 60" he said. II would prove my
!, self ruffian by staying. am rufian, perhaps
/ Gail me one if you like"
IT." said Nell holding her pretty throat very
| straight. What are you to meV'
Nothing" he cried "That's the worst Of it.
That is where you have me at disadvantage
| If had the shadow of right to expect you even
to look at me could 60 to some one and speak
| about you, or get help. But am not such a
! ruffian as to talk you over, even to save myself
man, and he has no right to complain Though
l suppose am complaining"
Nell did not utter a word. She would not.
He was looking at her with the look that always
re minded her that his cousin had said, He has
an eye like stays" On principle she hated
him at that moment for his stays eyes.
IF am rufian." he said. 'you could make
me better. Women are sometimes kind even to
ruffans. know / am not what ought to be.
No one knows better than do what faults
have. They were born in me-"
II do not wish to hear Them" said Nell
lyon would like other people to tell you Of
| them" he said bitterly.
Il have told you that never speak of you, !"
| she answered.
| She saw his eyes flash. and the next instant
| he had snatched her hand, almost roughly.
You shall tell mel" he cried--''you shall tell
me what have done"
| She tried to Withdraw her hand, but his grasp
was like iron; she could not even stir it. Her
| whole face famed.
| 'Do you know" she said in breathless
voice, do you know that you are using force to
| met"
| He started as if he had been shot. 1t was evil
dent that he had not realized it.
"Oh, no." he said desperately what brute
and fool am. But you don't know what yon
are doing to me. You are driving me mad. Let
me go away"
''rhe sooner the better!" she answered, but
before the words had left her lips he had turned
| on his heel and was gone She saw nothing
| until she reached the house and entered the
shaded, fower-scented room, at the window Of
| which she found her mother standing
| Mrs Huntingdon turned and looked at her
| with rather amazed expression.
well, DEAR" she said, was that Mr. Hamil-
ton who stood at the gate with you2'
Eyes, mamma"
"Mr-Mr Jack Hami, ton, Nell9"
eyes, mamma" And without another word
she fed to her own room. It seemed to her, in
the hours she spent alone, shut up in its pretty,
| summary dimness, that surely no girl could ever
have suffered in such strange way before. She
had always been so happy in this little fowery
bower of hers that it seemed an added cruelty
| that she should sit in it feeling such desperate
| unhappiness. 1t was desperate unhappiness-she
knew that before she had been alone fifteen
| minutes. She threw herself on her knees by her
| favorite, deep window and hid her face in her
| arms on the window seat. Her heart was beat
ing hard against her side, and she was trembling
all over.
'Oh, what is the matter with meY" she said
again and again in a piteous whisper. "Oh
why do feel like thisi"
She could not still herself at ALL There
| seemed no use in trying. She had been for so
| long time endeavorlng to ignore and control
something which had been advancing upon her
every day and every hour that now, when under
| too great strain che had given way for mo-
| ment the reaction was greater than she was
| ready to meet. There had been so much to ig-
| more and set aside, there had been so many days
| all seemed to come back at once And try as
| she might she did not remember the right things
| The things which came back to her were all
| wrong. The times, for instance-so many of
them-when she had met his eyes looking at her
| in that half wounded. haf-angry way which was
somehow pathetic. No one could deny-oh, yes
it was quite true that he had the most beautiful
| eyes--to say that they had look sometimes such
as you see in beautiful dogs. or child's. when
| they ask for something. 1t might seem alb
surd, but it was true, they always seemed to
ask and ask. and she could not shut out the feel
| ing, even when he was not near her at all, that
| he was asking and she refusing-though neither
| uttered word And then the times wheL he
had stood silent near her, and yet it had been
| if he spoke. And the times when they had
passed each other; and the times she had meant
not to watch him as he played tennis, and yet
somehow had known how he looked and moved,
and he was alwas alert and graceful and ready
and his voice had always come to her above ev-
cry other voice-not LOUD exactly. but clear and
resonant and with gay. laughing sound And
one day flower had fallen from her belt and
| she had accidentally crushed it with her foot
| and he had seen it across the lawn and had
sauntered over and stood by it a moment and
then stopped to pick it up--and no one but them
| selves had seen-and she had stood perfectly
lnotioness as if she had not seen herself and yet
had known so well and had been so angry. She
| was so sure she had been angry. Her hands had
| trembled as she stood and she had played badly
all through the rest of the game and had lost it
| TO her side.
| And now! What could have been worse than
this afternoonq She could feel his great strong
hand holding hers yet. She drew it hastily