The Portland daily press., 1886-05-22

been bothered with all the letters about that
old book that he had, so he wrote, L would
think so too. His greatest grievance seemed
to be the communications received from ola
women, who would persist in seeing close re-
semblances to their dear departed sons,
nieces, grandchildren or something, IN the
characters of my poor little story. linen
there were applicants who wanted to Know know
what the author OF 'BrakeSdale Woulu
have made his hero do in case he had been
disinherited by some rich relation whose
money they expected, etc., ETC., In snort, my
elder brother most inopportunely handed me
over all the fame and all the trouble, ana
said he had already told everyone whom ne
had seen that |, and not he held the enyiiable
position of originator of "Brakesdale, ana
| that he had nothing whatever to do with II.
He concluded by. asking how my ward was
getting on, and said he expected to JOIN us
during the following month
''Oh 'Brakesdalep 'Brakesdale! L IN
wardly exclaimed when [ had finished read
ing this letter. what an old nuisance you
have been, and what an Incompatible bore
you are going to bel" But matchmaking
my devoted story would not help me out OF
the scrape any, and at last l decided on con-
fession.
But here was met half way by another
unavoidable complication that, IKE ghost,
arose before me, and showed itself the key
note of all my misery. found that | had al
ready reached the stage when l could not
bear to face the disgust | felt sure would
come upon me when / had told my ward,
that not only was | an authoress, and, as
such, unwomanly, but, worst OF all, that l
had been acting all along under false pre-
fences, and, if not INDUCING in actual false
hood, had taken chief part in this long
course of deception. But it would be better
to tell all. and indeed, was forced to do so.
went down stairs and found Gerald stand
ing before the fireplace in the coy drawing
room. He came quickly towards me, and
said: 81 am so glad you have come, for |
have something to tell you which l cannot
bear to keep any longer to myself"
| grasped this last straw of temporary de-
liverance; it would at least put off the hour
of disclosure, and eagerly asked what it was.
Then he took both my hands in his and
looked earnestly into my face "Can you
not tell what it is?" he said.
Then for the first time | noticed his agita--
ton and manner, and l felt the hot blood
rush up and crimson my tell-tale face. l
could almost hear my heart beat. Was it
fear, or joy, or sorrow? | could only look at
him and then he said: 81 see that you I'M
take my love? know well that / am not
worthy of you, but | would try to be so. oh,
my darling, answer me-
Then |, the culprit, in my great happiness
forgot all and could only whisper. ~ s"
The bliss of the minutes that followed! Ger
aid was softly quoting those dear, familiar
lines:
"And the stars shah fall and the angels be weep
ing,
Ere 1 cease to love thee, my queen, my queen.'
when remembered my unfortunate book,
and / said: ''Would you think just as much
of me, or would you consider me very I'M
womany, if, by some strange chance, l. and
not my brother, had written sBrakesdale'?"
mo-" he answered readily, 'Brakesdale'
is on exceptional book, and L should only be
very, very proud of you had you written it.
But you did not, did your"
''YeS," L answered, Il did
Then whatpraise from him, who was dear
er to me than all the world beside! But |
had not yet told the worst. Would Gerald
take SO kindly to the rest of my confession?
feared not. Then his voice broke in upon
my musings.
s'What do you think my guardian will say
to this proceedings said Gerald, ''will he
consent?'
81 fancy So" l answered, half laughing,
''for, if you must be undeceived at last, am
your guardian"
And SO my story is ended, turning out wei
and wisely, as all good stories should, for it
is Gerald, now my husband, that is leaning
over me while write and [ can never for
get that tits to ''Brakesdale,'' and to his IDEAS
self, that l owe all the happiness of my life
and beins.