Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-04-30

lace IS very pale as he says this, put ms eyes are light with resolution and his voice is firm. He is almost handsome as he looks at her, with his glance fond but de- ;csi;iirea, and his right hand resting on lis heart inside his coat as though to s..l its tempestuous beating.
 Miss Grey, with a tremulous smile, draws nearer to him.
 ''I have decided" she says gently. s'Now and forevern
 lis it to be him, or me?' Though his accent is steady, she can see that his very lips are bloodless.
 "You, youp' she says And then there is long, long silence between them. They are standing in corner of the ten his ground open to all the world, so that any demonstration of joy or gratitude or love is impossible. But even when ac- ton is denied, the eyes can speak. ''My belovedr' says MT. Massareene in a tone so low that.she can barely catch it, but it is so full of infinite delight and love that she tells herself it is sufficient in itself to atone to her for the enormous for tune she is willingly f1inging away for his dear sake.
 ''There is only one thing more," she says after a little bit. "Do not speak of this until tomorrow has gone by. It will distress auntie and Lady Valworth, and spoil her party"
 "But, if I say nothing, when Boyle re- turns he will still regard you as engaged to him and-and he may expect''-
 "He will expect nothing. We have never been loving couple, assure you. No. Let the matter rest until Lady Val worth has had all her enjoyment out of her sons birthday ball.''
 ''It shall be as you wish, of course." Then, forgetful of everything save of her, | he takes one of her hands and holds it closely. "Millicent! tell me you have no regret-that you do not think have done | you harm instead of good '' 1 t'I think of nothing except that have | given myself to you for veal or woe, as the case may be, and that believe it will | be for weal.''
 | 'sBut if not, my darling? Now that I | have really won you, grow faint hearted | lest you should ever repent Ohl if you | should do that! If there should be only | poverty-that is woe-before youp' 1T should prefer that to veal with Granit or any other man," she says softly,
 with such light in her eyes as he had | never seen there before.
 The day wanes slowly; and night draws near with reluctant footsteps. Nadine, l standing before her glass, is conscious of ' a thrill of satisfied vanity as she sees the dainty vision that is gazing back at her. All in white the vision stands: simply | clad thing in virgin muslin, but with 8 l face above it beautiful as dream. That | it is her own face rejoices the heart of | Nadine.
 The many guests accommodating for to- l morrow nights ball have all arrived, and | it is with flutter at her breast that | Nadine takes a last glance at her charm ing person, and clasps round her neck the diamond cross-Paul Annerley's first gift to her. It had been deemed by her too | grand an ornament to be worn on the ear | Her evenings here, when only a simple black grenadine had been her dinner dress, but tonight, as she sees herself | looking all that the heart of man could | desire, in her delicate Indian fabric, she tells herself that the glistening diamonds are what will add the last finishing touch to an already perfect picture. Taking up her fan, and returning the
 maids congratulations on her appearance
 with 8 pleased little laugh, she leaves her | room and goes slowly down the staircase toward the drawing room. For minute | or two she pauses outside the door, partly l from natural nervousness at encounteriug so many strangers-their voices coming l to her in Subdued murmur from within and partly to give herself Q last glance l over in the huge mirror behind her, to as | sure herSe1f that she IS lOOk1nS Ta1rer than | usual, and that in her true love's eyes she
 may find favor. She sighs a little as she remembers how far she will be from him l in few days time-lost to him forever | bound irrevocably to one whom she may
 respect but can never love.
 The smile had died from her lips, and
 her face is colorless as her gown when she
 has finished these sad musings, and open
 ing the drawing room door, advances
 slowly to where she can see Lady Val
 worth in the distance.
 The room is somewhat crowded. Many
 look up as she goes by them. Some re-
 gard her silently-these the men; some
 ask, in a deprecatory way, who she is l these the women.
 | All show an undisguised interest. | Lady Valworth, with whom she has be-
 come a reigning favorite, turns to greet her as she approaches her side. ''Iou must let me introduce you to a | very charming little friend of minc," she
 says to her companion, Lord Aster, hold l ing cut her hand to Nadine with kindly
 g. ,.ic. GA friend, too, of Millicent'sr'
 Sic gets through the introduction, and ] Lord Aster, an old beau with juvenile l liap, and a wig callow and golden as a
 chicken s down, murmurs something com l pli:ncntary in<a boyish tone that is as l lahor2d as it is ancient.
 l There are a few arrangements as yet | incomplete. Some eligibles unassigned" /"
 whispers Lady Valworth to her favorite.
 'i s.,ouid like to give you some one who
 would amuse you through the tedious time
 Of dinner Would you ike''-
 She comes suddenly to dead stop. She | had been nlurmuring to the girl in gay | ssisie, with smile upon her face, but now
 inc smile has given place to glance of l mingled astonishment and horror. Her tyss are fixed on Nadine's breast, where | the diamond cross-Pau1 Annerley's gift is glittering and sparkling magnifi-
 gently as the girls gentle bosom rises
 and falls.
 "That-where did you get that?" de-
 mands Lady Valworth, in stifed tone
 Lord Aster, fortunately, is glancing
 through his jaunty eyeglass at some one
 sitting quite at the other end of the room.
 Nadine and Lady Valworth are virtually
 alone.
 tsThat?'' asks Nadine nervously, sur
 prised at Lady Valworth's, manner. She
 looks so innocently at her hostess that the
 latter, by supreme effort, recovering
 herself, lays her hand reassuringly upon
 her arm.
 | NNothinc my love- It was mere start