Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1886-06-25


woman.
All, | see; there are some things so
much better implied than expressed.
But | am SO matter-of-fact that | must
translate your mute eloquence Lord
Coniston--." At this instant Coniston
is lost in calculating how many minutes
he can stand this present temperature of
his head and face-"into words. or
word-curiosity, Ell? Come, he twice
franks it not SOP
You may christen it curiosity, and
call it so. pro tenn, if you choose, Miss
Grey, but"
The earl again falters.
oh" cries the girl, with little i'm
patient wave of her hand and throwing
back her pretty blonde head; "how |
abhor Englishmenr They are so in terror
of even their minor emotions A French
man, German, an Italian, any other
nationality in the world is ready, eager
to put his tlirtatious propensities into the
most delicious language; but an English
man!"-she shudders-"he stops to won
der what he is about to feel, and lol the
emotion vanishes! ha! ha! hal"
Miss Gray laughs "A long, musical, ring
ing laugh.
Coniston looks at her, and he wonders
if he has ever really seen her until this
morning. She looks like the brightest
part of the sunshine as she sits there in
it, mocking him
perhaps we do avoid putting what
you call our 'tlirtatious propensities' into
words; but if you will permit me to say
50, an Englishman is only too ready to
speak out that which he feels"
30 they ever feel anything outside
the hunting field and the house of COM
mons?" she asks, provokingly.
He smiles as he looks at her.
Il will tell you some day"
Not long after Coniston rides with
Miss Grev-a long afternoon ride on the
road by the bay, and through the woods
and past the farms busy with the autumn
fruit gathering.
They chat of commonplace things
the flowers the birds, the clouds the blue
of sea and sky, and they come home
soberlv enough, too soberly, he thinks.
There is a ball that night. the last of
"the season." ConistOn is not a dancing
man, SO he has the satisfaction of watch
ing Miss Grey floating about the ball
room in the arms of other men-prin-
cipally Bradford. He smokes cigars: he
even goes SO far as to drink brandy, and
invoke the image of the reposeful Cicely
all have little effect. He stalks out on
the piazza, brilliant with lanterns, and
then saunters TO the other end where it
is comparatively dark.
Polly sits there, and Bradford
ford!-is bending above her; he even has
her hand: and now he goes in and leaves
her.
Coniston is mailman IA he rushes into
the other mans place. and leans trem-
blingiy over her chair. She is quiet,
silent.
ut is l." he whispers, brokenly.
Il know she replies, softly.
"Oh, child" cries he, you must listen
to me: | am good-for- nothing sort of "a
fellow; | have had no religion, no any
thing, until | have known you, and now
you are my shrine. 1t seems to me at
your feet l should lay rare spices, per-
fumes, flowers, jewels-and all dare
lay there tonight is human heart-a
human life, Polly" he says, lowly, stoop-
ing his blonde head to hers will you
have me?"
He sees her face as she upturns it in
the flare of the last lantern; it is as he
has never seen it-pale, stricken awful,
calm.
Well" she says, at last, with that
clear, bright voice of hers, a trite hard.
a tritle matter offact.
ION. l love you, my soul! my queen!
love you and need YOU" cries he, over
come by the sight of her pallor.
Il know" she answers, quietly, Il
appreciate, value your love: | would not
have it otherwise; should have been
disappointed always if you had not loved
me, Ah!" burying her white face in
her hands, II revel in it,"
And he had once thought this woman
cold. superficial, unlikable.
My darling" Coniston says, reaching
out his hands for hers.
But. whispers the girl, drawing away
into her siiken wrap, "I-I-am engaged
to be married to Eugene Bradford. l
have been for two years !"
Sir Campbell Frazer had arrived from
the west. The Arizona sailed on Tues
day. and both he and the earl of Coniston
were booked on her passenger list.
1t was Monday night-"midsumm
come again." people said, lounging the
piazzas of the big hotel-warm, sultry
with great banks of blue black clouds
lowering above the golden rim of the
west.
Bradford was up in town, detained by
business, as Coniston had discovered.
Miss Grey was sitting at the corner of
the piazza. He went up to her for the
first time since the night of the ball.
May sit down."
She looks up assentingly.
Il am going tomorrow in the Ari-
zona.-
Il know" she answers, whitening.
He wonders why, and, heaven help
him! he gets up and goes away, when he
would rather far have taken the frail,