San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-01-07

What's the goodr It only worries yon and
can't help me. Now you're looking grave
when you ought TO look like sunshinel
Fancy coming 20 tell me that you are the
nappiest girl alive, ana then fretting over
| me-"
Don't talk like that, Valerie" said the
other, her eyes full of tears. My happi-
ness can't make me Indifferent to your I'M
happiness"
Valerie turned aside; her bosom heaved.
why do you care so muchr" she said.
'You know what am; you know how lit
tie am worth anyone's lovew
"You are not unworthy Of love, Valerie;
you hate the very part you play; you have
not the courage OF your intentions"
81 know what you mean, Amy; and 1t
would be no good II had. You are think
ing of-of Colonel Beauregard."
"Yes-forgiye me, Valerie"
There's nothing to forgive; you can only
judge. like the rest, by what you see. And
| yet, after ALL | am failure. have not
the courage of my intentions, you say, or
what seemed my intentions"
Were they not, Valerie' Were you
not. at any rate, consenting"
(which is the same thing, isn'tit' What
| does 1t matter what intended, or appeared
| to intendi There will be an end Of it all
| soon-very soon," she said, clasping her
hands above her head
| "Valerier' said Amy, startled. you are
| talking very strangely"
you'll understand me in a few days
time. Don't ask me any more questions.
| l couldn't answer them"
81 must ask one or two, Valerie. An
| gela said you had heard from Aston Law
| ford.'
| "Who told herr"
Lady Elinor. Did he write to renew
his offer, Valerie"
Eyes"
"And you-you won't dream of marrying
| himi" said Amy, earnestly.
mo; won't marry Aston Lawford. I
| haven't answered his letter, and | don't
mean to-"
81 am so glad to hear you say that, Va
lerie. But Mrs. Langleyp"
81 have never followed aunt Constance's
lead" returned Valerie. coolly, land l am
not likely to begin now. You open your
| eyes-mentally mean; you think she had
| planned, and have consented. Have II
You will know soon, Amy. But l have
followed my own lead from the beginning,
and shall follow it to the end"
81 don't understand you, Valerie; you
| are talking in enigmas," said Amy, putting
| her arms round her friend again. 81 must
| try and be patient; out this l know-that
| you are not happy"
"Never mind" said the other restlesslv,
"let me live in your happiness, Amy; talk
| to me about yourself, and your dear old
Hal. When are you going to be married,
and where will you live? and tell me every
thing you can think Of"
So Amy obeyed, and stayed with Valerie
till tea-time, when she was dismissed, Va
lerie herself having tea sent up to her; she
would come down to dinner, she said; but
she wanted TO be alone for awhile.
And she lay still. in kind of dull agony.
| There was nothing to be done-nO hingl
| The miserable misunderstanding must go
| on to the end. How Vas she to live the
| life that lay before her, Truly her life
hitherto had been failure. though not as
Constance Langley would understand the
word.
And Amy, running down to the drawing
room, greatly drealing the chaff, met Max
Beauregard.
Fairly caught" he said holding out his
hand, and smiling at her heightened color.
"Why, you are not afraid of me, are your"
folding tie girls hand in both his own.
mo- indeed, not of YOU" she said. II
wouldn't mind even if you chaffedW
st is very good of you to say that; but
indeed, had no idea Of chafling. | want
to tell you how very, very glad | am that
you are going to be the wife of my dearest
friend"
THANK you from my heart" said Amy,
gratefully. 81 know you mean what you
say, though don't deserve it; but l will
try to deserve itH'
"Tryl it wouldn't be easy to change you
for the better, Amy. Well, l must not
say too much, or Hal may take me to task;
hope he isn't anywhere near nowr'
"Oh, Colonel Beauregardr' cried Amy,
laughing merrily, NOW you are chaff1ngW
about Hal, yes; not about you; that was
sober truth, on my honor as asoldier. Now
you may come in to tea, if you like. / dare
say Hal is wondering-not very resignedly
where you have been all the afternoon"
81 have been chattering with Valerie"
young ladies' condolences. Is she not
coming DOWN."
mot until dinner time"
She glanced up in Colonel Beauregard's
face, but could make nothing Of 1t. Just
outside the drawing-room door she paused,
and said, pleadingly:
Don't let them tease me too much, Col
onel Beauregard, will your"
81 will protect you," said he. smiling,
'like veritable knight-errant, If you will
give me my guerdon-to be paid before
hand"
For fear l should cheat your But
knights-errant never sought reward"
mot in gold: but what l ask IS more
priceless than gold-this."
He bent down smiling, and just touched
his lips to her brow-a brothers kiss.
"Dear old Halls betrothed is my sister,
you know" he said.
81 am so happy that you should feel So"
said the girl, her face radiant; and then he
opened the door and led the fugitive into
the drawing-room.
Valerie appeared at dinner, and was, to
all outward seeming, as brilliant as ever;
and in the drawing-room afterward her
| soft laugh was often heard. She sang
some Of her best songs, and one might
have thought the girl had never shed
tear. Yet she knew Max Beauregard was
not deceived; her acting was not for him,
but for the others; and all the time her
heart was throbbing like the throb Of
| minute-bell tolling the passing hours. To
Wednesday, then one day more,
and then the promised answer; and that
answer would be the fiat that parted her
| from Max Beauregard forever.
And when she went up to bed-having