The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1886-06-11
Sine spared him the ATTEMPT, howey.

1ncn you must nave re1OlCcd IN
change, didn't youp Variety is SO
pleasant to an appetite jaded by same-
ness!"
"No." he answers; I didn't enjoy it
at all. I'll tell you," he says, looking
up at her with wide. clear Dyes; .to be
frank, I hate American women, and
you're the only one who ever inspired
ME with the slightest-''
Coniston stops short; there is some
thing in his listeners face that
marks an unerring period in his reck-
less speech.
"Well?" she asks. swcetly and clear
ly, "'-the slightest?"
The English language is Coniston's
native tongue, but it fails him now;
he feels tho warm blood sutfusing his
face and his mind runs after an elusive
woman.
"Ah, I SEQ; there are some things SO
much better implied than expressed.
But am so mattcr-of-fact that must
translate Your mute eloquencc, 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, CHI? Conc, be twice
franks it not SOP"
you may christon it curiosity, and
call it SO. pro tenn, if you choose. Miss
Gray, but"
The earl again falters.
"Oh!" cries the girl. with little i'm
patient wave of her nand, and throw
ing back her pretty blonde head; show
I oI,hor In crl;slp,nng vT,Lo,, scuo ~ -
terror of even their minor emotions. A
Frcnchman, German, an Italian, any
other nationality in the world is ready,
eager to put his Mrtatious propensities
into the most delicious languages; but
an Englishman!''-she shudders-'.h
stops TO wonder what he is about to
feel, and 10! the emotion vanishcs! ha!
ha! ha!''
Miss Grey laughs q long, musical,
ringing laug Oh.
Coniston looks at her. and he wonr
ders 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 .fllrtatious propensitics'
into words; butt you will permit me
to say SO. an Englishman is only too
feels!"
'.Do they ever feel anything outside
the hunting field and the House of Com
mons?" she asks, provokingly.
He smiles as he looks ut her.
II will tell you some day."
Not long after Coniston rides with
Miss Grey-a long afternoon ride on
the road by the bay, and through the
woods and past the farms busy with
their autumn fruit gathering.
They chat of commonplace things
the flowers. the birds, the clouds, the
blue of sea and sky, and they come
home sobcrly enough. too soberly, he
thinks.
There is ball that night, .'the las,
of the season." Coniston is not q dane.
ing man, so he has the satisfaction Of
watching Miss Grey floating about the
ball room in the arms of other men
principally Bradford. He smokes ci
CARS; he even goes so far us to drink
brandy, and invoke the image of the
reposeful Ciccly-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
Bradford!-is bending over her; he
even has her hand; and now he goes in
and leaves her.
Coniston is mailman as he rushes
into the other mans place and leans
tremblingly over her chair. She is
quiet, silent
at is 1" he whispers. brokcnly.
II know" she replies. softly.
"Oh, child!" cries he. '.you must lis
ten to me; am q good-for-nothing sor
of fellow; have had no religion, nc
anything, until have known you, ant
now you are my shrine. 1t seems te
me at your feet should lay rare spices
| perfumes, flowers, jewcls-and all
dare lay there tonight is human
heart-a human life, Polly" he says
lowly, STOPPING his blonde head to hers
''Will you have me?"
He secs her face as she upturns it ir
the flare of tho last lantern; it is as hi
has never seen it-pale, stricken, awful
calm.
''Well" she says at last, with tina,
clear. bright voice of hers, a trifle hard
tritie matter-of-fact.
"Oh, love you. my soul! my queen
I love you and need YOU" cries he
overcome by the sight Of her pallo..
II know" she answers, quietly, %
appreciate, value your love; I would
not have it otherwise; / should have
been disappointed always if you haa
not loved me. Ali" burying her white
face in her hands, II rcvcl in it!''
And he had once thought this woman
cold, superficial, unlikablc.
my darling!" Coniston says. reach
ing out his hands for hers.
''But," whispers the girl, drawing
away into her silken wrap, "I-I-all
engaged to be married to Eugene Brad
ford. Ihave been for two years!'
Sir Campbell Frazier had arrived
from the West. Tho Arizona sailed or
Tuesday, and both he and the Earl Of
Coniston were booked on her passenger
list.
1t was Monday night midsummer
come again." people said, loungine
about the piazzas Of the big hotel
warm, sultry, with great banks of blue.
black clouds lowering above the golden
rim of tho west.
Bradford was up in town, detained by
business, as Coniston had discovered.
Miss Grey was sitting at the corner OF
the piazza. Ho went up to her for the
first time since the night of the ball.
MAY sit DOWN."
She looks up asscntingly.
II am going tomorrow in the Ari-
coma"
II 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. vivacious, alert little woman to
his heart.
Presently he saunters back.
"Would you take a ride with me to-
night? You know VIC shall never on
earth see each other again. Would
your"
Here eyes flash, her lips CULVER; she
turns tho ring on her fin ger back and
forth.
YES" she says, quietly, II will. !