San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-07-09

iil-- blulD0l dropped from MS mouth.
Never mind that now, John" | cried,
quickly. Talk of something ese-sOmc-
thing more pleasant
AN right Measter Hugh" returned the
poet shall tell zee the news?''
nodded, and he continued:
y Dung master be coming home fro Lun-
nun Tomorrow wi her he is to we'd"
How do you know that?' cried, flush
ing TO the temples and conscious that all
eyes were turned suddenly upon my face.
II brought big bawX to leave up at the
house, Measter Hugh, and 'twere addressed
to the young missus; and when were up in
the Kitchen and taking glass O. ale wi
cook they told me postman had brought
letter this afternoon, and that young master
were coming home. See?'
lie little knew the torture he was causing
me; but every word he uttered went through
me like knife. Again | made a device to
change the subject, and succeeded; but while
the good fellow prattled on, my mind was
full Of the news that he had brought
My original determination had been TO
leave home at ten or eleven in the forenoon,
and, striking across the mOOrland, TO do 4
leSurely forty miles before resting for the
night; but / was now resolved to depart
much earlier-indced, at daybreak. 1 dread
ed the torture of seeing my darling again:
and knew il to be extremely probable that
she might arrive from Falmouth very early
in the day.
After parting glass of spirits, in which
he pledged me heartily, and wished me all
the good luck in the world, John rose to 20
away. | walked with him to the door, and
across the garden to the gate
Here We shook hands heartily,
Keep an eye on the old man when am
gone, | said. "GwCndOvey is not far away,
but far enough if anything goes wrong. MY
uncle may want friend. If anything hap
pens don't fail to send to me at once"
I'll do that Mcastcr Hugh, replied John
Rudd. II he downright gIiCved to see the
Old nun saw broken down"
After another hearty hand-Shake, he walk.
ed away in the moonlight. | was turning to
90 in, when | felt a touch upon my arm 1t
was Annie, who had Crept out after me, and
now spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper:
Hugh, dear Hugh, this is the last night
we shall be together for many long day. |
wanted to speak TO you before you 90. |
wanted to be quite sure that we are friends,
In spite of all that has passed"
Her voice was broken with tears. Full of
tenderness and pity for her, put my arm
around her and kissed her on the forehead.
More than friends. Annie" | said.
"Brother and sister-as much as If we were
so by blood"
"Oh you are good, goodr she cried rest
ing her head on my shoulder. Don't think
| am mgratefu! Don't think fail to see
how kind you have been; how all your
thought has been for Others-never for your
self. But Hugh, dear, you won't be angry
if speak Of Tits on my mind and |
should like to say it to you BEIGE you 60"
'Wh9t is it, AmieY'
ITS about Miss Grahami All, don't be
angry! wouldn't plin you for the world"
"DO not speak of her. | said, trembling
but you love her Hugh, you love her
ah, do you think have not seenr'
"Yes Annie, love her. What then? l |
learned long ago that my love was hopeless |
and foolish. She is far away from me as |
that star! | ought to have known it from |
the beginning"
She raised her eyes to my face and looked |
at me earnestly and long Then she said:
Sometimes, Hugh, | have thought that |
you are wrong, for YOU are worthy of any |
lady in the land. Sometimes have thought |
that, If you had only spoken, she would have |
listened to you. Why do you give her up? !
Perhaps there is time yet?''
"In few days, Annie, she will be married
to Mr.. Redruth."
Never, neycrr' cried my cousin, with
strange vehcmpnco.
why, it is all arranged They are en-
gagged. Even if it were otherwise. where |
would be my chance? Great ladies do not
marry bcggars, little woman"
cit is of that wished TO speak," persisted
Annie 81 do not think those two will ever
he man and wife,
why do you say thatG Have you any
reasOn?"
Yes, Hugh. Do not ask me to say more
now: but prOmise-prOmise me that you will
not quite despair. For you care for her very
much, do you, not? and IL know what you
must feel, with such a love as yours"
As she spoke the old suspicion came upon
me. bent down and gazed into. her face,
lit by tire brilliant moonlight Never had
she looked so pretty.
annie" said, before l go, have you
nothing more to say to me@'
mo, dear Hugh.'
81 mean-about yourself"
How she trembledl could feel the sud-
den leaping of her heart, as proceeded:
nave Ildu lily ONn thoughts al dlOHSi
but | have kept them to myself. You know
what | said to you long ago about George |
Redruth? WasI right or wrOng?'
do not ask me now" she sObbed. "SOme |
day, soon too you shall know everything |
but not now not to-nightr'
saw her agony, and fOrbore to question |
her further. But we did not go in at once. |
Lingering at the gate, we talked of old times, |
of her father, OF many things near to our |
hearts, but no more of the one thing that |
was nearest to mine. All my anger against |
her, all my Indignation at the trouble she |
had wrought, died away in tender brOtheEy |
sympathy and affection. She was my little |
cousin again, my cenfidante and friend. The |
peace of the still night fell upon us, touch
ing our spirits with beautiful conservation.
Never shall forget that gentle time of part
ing.
Whatever happens" said, as we turned |
to go in, remember that am your loving |
brother"
Dear, dear Hughr' she answered. 81 |
have not loved you half enough. All, il |
had trusted you at the first! But may be 1t |
Is not too late even now. God help me, |
will try TO make amendsr'
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE CHAMPION OF GwENDovEY.