Daily Republican., 1886-01-23
nsn SECOND lows.
~ ALICE DALE.

by ALICE DALE.
"You care too much about him."
vinetts said In her direct, blunt way.
You have allowed him 70 feel too
sure Of you"
Alethe's fair. refined face flushed
painfully.
81 have always believed that the
comfort OF loving is In the perfect Sc
curity each feels in the truth OF the
other" she retoFted thoughtfully.
"That is all very beautiful in
theory" Vinette argued. but not
always satisfactory in practice. With
many persons-with Cyril Everard, ]
should say the thing won is done
Confident Of your affection and indul,
gence, he negleets you as else he
would not venture doing. His time,
his attentions, his thoughts ara all for
others. And you are too proud to
complain or TO let him discern that you
feel cause for complaint, while you are
fretting yourself i'll over 1t all.
If you would affect little
coldness or coquetry, your be-
tr0thed would remain more devoted"
1.-The devotion that / can retain
only by assuming what am not, l do
not want--I will have none OF it,"
protested Alethe. stung to a passionate
vindication of her sentiments. 81
will have no attentions that are not
spontaneous; real love bestows its at
tentions frankly and freely, and l de-
sire no other"
Il had not questioned Cyril's love,
dear" Vinnette answered soothing
lily.
But Alethe did not heed. Vexed at
the interference of her friend, and
wroth with herself she rushed away,
proposing TO regain her equanimity in
solitude.
She was half blind with hot tears as
she hurried through the hall, and she
did not perceive the gentleman who
had just entered. In her haste she
stumbled ungracefully against this
parsonage; portfolio he carried was
rudely forced from his uHwary grasp;
and collection of crayons was scat.
tered over the tesselated floor.
"Oh |" she.gasped in dismay, with
a swift glance of depreciation. The
next instant her contenance bright
ened and in a pleased voice she supple
mented. Why, Casper, is it your
Oh, am so sorryi'
" Sorry that | have come, do you
mean, Thelyr" he quizzed playfully.
could never be that" she dis
scented, with charming blush, as she
drew her hand from his gentle clasp
and stopped 10 repair the mischief that
she had done.
The sketches were exquisite things
each in its way-dreamy bits of wood
land and vivid fragments of sea. But
there was one upon which Alethe
gazed long with gratified and wonder.
ing eyes. The crayon pictured a girl
" Standing with reluctant feet
Where the brook and river meet,
Womanhood and childhood
feet"
Behind the penciled figure was the
sweet, fleet, beautiful brook she had
forever, and before her, under an i'm
penetrable golden haze, stretched
the broad and silent river, with its I'M
guessed mysteries of pain and de-
Hight.
In her hand she held the magic lily,
as with pensiVe but unfearing eyes she
peered into the mists of futurity.
Alethe could not mistake the poise of
the lovely proud head, nor the attitude
of the dainty and stately form-the
distinctive beauty and grace were all
her own:
why, it is l, Casper!" she cried,
with sudden glance toward him.
The expression of his cOuntenance
at that moment might have bewildered
her had it not been too evanescent for
her observation. But tho fire, the
yearnipg the iIeffab'e tenderness, were
oil gone in a second, and then Casper
Hayns was his own dignified and
tranquil self once more.
Nevertheless there was a something
q vague suggestion Of mystery and ro-
mance-in the simple little episode Of
the crayon that puzzled her.
Aleihe was an artist. too, in an anna
teur sort OF way and now that Vinnet-
ties brother had come, the trio haunt
ed every picturesque nook IN all the
country round-the girl always beside
Casper--her friend, instructor, revered
master.
And Vinnette, wise, grim. and ex-
elusive, worked apart under her own
big umbrella. occasionally pausing to
regard the two with an amused twin
kle In her keen eyes
mot many days ago the squsamish
child was excessively shocked by a
certain suggestion of NINE" she
thought. And she is blissfully un-
conscious that her pretty manner of
shy confidence toward my attentive
brother would seem very like coquetry
TO Cyril"
One afternoon Alethe fingered after
her companions, desiring to finish a
view of "a charming little cascade near
the lake.
AS she sat there. she heard Cyril 8
voice she heard him speaking in low,
significant. caresslng accents, just as
he had spoken TO her thousand times;
and looking up, she saw him coming
down the path among the rocks, arm
in arm with young woman whose
dress and demeanor indicated an I'M
mistakable inferiority. She instantly
recognized the handsome, insolent face
as that of one OF the domestics ofthe
hptal Uhara har lovar ,,o, ..D..:..