Audubon County Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Audubon Co., Iowa) 1885-1894, 1886-02-04

at her charming home that tonight Z
grand ball is to be held
But alas! evening finds me laid ur
with o toothachc, every nerve racked
with a distracting pain, and nv cheek
swollen far beyond the bounds Of
comeliness.
"You must not think of staying
home" say, peremptorily. rs Ethel
proposes giving up her pleasure. I'm
deed you shall not Go-one martyr
is enough"
She goes, a dream OF loneliness in
her maidenly tulle and pearls, while |
go toto bed.
At last sleep comes 10 my relief, and
1t is very late, or rather early, when [
am awakened by Ethers kiss upon my
cheek.
"How's my ioothache? Oh, It is bet
ter How did you enjoy yourself.
dearP' i asked. sitting up and rubbing
my eyes sleepily.
EthePs answer is not as enthusiastic
as should expect, and notice what
a strange look her face has. Not thus
does my pretty cousin. who has never
experienced what il is to be a wall
flower, usually return from party.
Were it not absurd | should surely
think she had been crying.
kiss her good night. and she goes
away to her room. As dress nex3
morning my eyes light upon a satin
covered ball programme lying on the
floor where Ethel must have dropped
it. Picking it up opened it careless
ly, but my carelessness changes sud-
denly to fixed, startled regard.
Penciled in the space beneath tho
list OF dancers are these words:
"My darling, let il be tomorrow
evening" will await = GU, rs the clock
rlkes eleven, by the great oak at the
end OF the drive. circumstances over
which have no control cal me abroad.
Something tells me that if 90 leaving
| YOU free we will surely he parted.
Your aunt Is prcjud ced against me,
and you tell me that she can prevent
you from marrying until you are of
age. Oh! my love, you who know how
faithful your Cevoted Raoul is, | i'm
plore You take your fate in your own
hands and consent to my wishes for a
secret marriage. 1t need only be kept
secret until my return, then we can
confess and be forgiven"
As read, Ethels agitation returns
to me, and | know that unless | save
her my cousin will 90 to her ruin this
very night. For that ruin it would be
to intrust her LIES happiness into the
keeping Of the unprin cjpled adventurer
whose hand penned these lines / am
convinced. But how is it to be donep
must have help-auntie is out of the
question there is only Hart will he,,
angry ut me as he is, como to my as
sistancep
l seek him at his law office. He
meets me coldly; but his manner
changes as, in earnest, anxious tones,
| pour out my troubles. and. ignoring
his indifferent greeting, impore him,
upon the strength of our old friend
ship, to hel p me, il it is n his power
to save my cousin from taking the
irrecoverablo step she contemplates-
''lieIp youP OF course | will and
can. tool" he eXclaims. "How lucky
| you came to me-and what q coinci-
dence it is"
.Coincidence-in what wayP"
ask
Never mind now," no answers.
But cheer up, Joan; all will come
well, promise you. 1t was fort.
innate star that led you to me-"
That'night, instead of retiring, / sit
at my window, from which 1 can
plainly see the drive. although it is
some little distance away.
The hall clock strikes eleven, and
just at that moment slight, dark
figure is distinctly visible in the moon.
light, walking with rapid steps down
the drive.
l hold my breath, and my hands
clasp themselves convulsively togeth.
er. 1t is ethel, my poor little deluded
cousin! Oh, Hart, do not fail me, lie
does not. 1t is he whom Ethel finds
awaiting her coming beneath the great
oak, and who breaks to her with
brotherly tenderness the story he has
to tell, and then with soothing, and
yet authoritative, kindness leads her
back to the house.
All this learn aftcrward, not right
away; for it is some tine before, with
O face, now flushed with contriie
shame, and now wan as first spring
snow-drop, Ethel confesses the secret
she little thinks l have known all
along (for Hart never told her how he
gained his information).
Though grieved and horror-strickcn,
aunt o magnanmOusIy refrains from
saying, Il told you sol" as the extent
of Raoul DE Fere's villainy is unveiled.
IL shall write and ask Hart to come
up this evening"" auntie says. "But
for him | shudder to think OF the dis
tress in which we would all be plung-
ed"
For the benefit OF the reader,
will here enter into little explana-
ton:
The very day before that in which I
carried my trouble to Hart, there had
applied to him for legal assistance .
young woman, a foreigner, who had
come from France in search of the nus
band who had deserted her and their
child two years before, and of whose
whereabouts, until chance had placed
a clew in her way, she had been ig-
norant.
That false man, of whom she was in
scar h, and Raoul DE We're were one
and the same person. So my penetra-
ton had not erred, and but for the
lucky a cid, mt that had brought that
ball-programme to my hands. and the
impulse that led me to 90 to Hart for
help, my poor little Ethel's would have
been terrible fate indeed.
Well, Hart comes and auntie thanks
him, and so do |, and Ethel, too, poor
child, with tears in her blue eyes. 1t
is strange how ones mind can altar!
can scarcely believe that 1 ever
could have considered Hart Holman
much the same as any gentleman Of
my acquaintance. Ho is hero in nv
eyes now. He laughs when intimate
as much TO him, for he says his laurels
were ga ned in very unheroic man.
ner; but he Is pleased ut nv avowal,
nevertheless. and taking courage, re-
ours to q former conversation that
once took place between Us.
First was a friend 20 you. Joan,
then brother, now hero--dear, do
you not think it possible that the
future may bring still further changes,
that you may grow to care for me-if
only q little?"
mot at all. Hart" / say impetu.
ously, laying both hands in his.
"Never "a little for 1 care tor you
more than that now. 1t is true, Hart,
and l have known it ever since you
/ off