Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1888-02-04

A green tinted cologne bottle stood near by
and he bethought himself to dash the cool
contents into her face, and felt quite doc
tors surprise to sec any good result follow his
ministrations. The banished blood stole slow
ly back into her olive checks. He bent over
her and lifted her shapely little hands, as
dainty AZ IL princess, and tried to arrange
them il some graceful position How pretty
she was; if her lips were a little full that was
very pardonabe fault
A sudden mad thought warmed his body;
why not wait till she opened her eyes, this
charming little girl, and then swear to her
that no loved her: What was love then that
such pretty faco and form us this should
not have til Sho was no cold woman; her
kisses and endearments-but his eyes had
grown cold and hard while he looked at her.
II she were Cleopatra she could be nothing
to him. her kisses would only stile him with
her passion; her glinging soft arms about his
neck would only strangle him. Ho knew to
his sorrow what it was to love, and no pretty
sham, no matter how its voluptuous articles
might make his hot blood surge through his
veins, could still for ono moment the immor-
tai longing it only Knocked. She moved IA
little as she lay; and no started and went out
Tho girls eyes opened slowly on the rich
blue lambrequins and the rare frescoing of
the room She vaguely wondered for one de-
Hcious moment if sho awoke some rich gen
tleman's wife and her old line of poverty was
past forever Why, she was III Mr.. Filings
worths bed chamberg How came she heref
And her hair was wet, aud the rutiles on her
neck were damp-it was cologne. Then she
remembered everything, and rose from the
august couch she had unworthily pressed
She laid back the great pillows and tried to
smooth out the outlines of her form on the
spotless counterpane and then made her way
down stairs The house was SO still it fright
encd her: it was as If everybody in the world
had died while she lay in her faint. The hall
below was empty, too, and the outer door
shut She opened the parior door; she felt as
if she must find somebody to ease the tension
of her nerves.
Mr. Ellingsworth sat with his head bowed
OH his hands; he knew it all; his homo was
desolatod, his pride outraged. AT the noise
he uncovered his face for moment and
looked up, and the cruel light falling on his
distressed face revealed the marks Of age his
TRANQUIL course of life and selfish and COM
placent philosophy had SO long softened and
covered. He saw the graceful figure Of his
maid in pretty attitude of hesitation on his
pleasure He was alone in the world but for
her; deserted in his own home only for her.
Come here, Jennie" no said in a broken
voice.
She carno into the room and few steps
toward him. Then she stopped Her face
was almost as pale as when she tainted, but
her black eyes shone with unusual feverish
brilliancy.
"Give me your hand, dear"
The girl started, and half turned MS If to
escape Then strange thoughts darted
through her brain. A warm, red flush
mounted from her neck, and spread itself in
fIurl nP ehnr 20 f,o ~
her black hair. She came up to him, and
reached out her little hand. He pressed it
gently, then he laid it against his cheek. Her
heart bounded in sudden revolt, but she con-
trolled herself with an effort Of sheer will,
and did not move, but her startled eyes
sought the floor. And so this was her proud
master But what harm if he wanted to be
foolish and sentimental it was no matter to
anybody now, no one cared for her unJSissed
lips.
Jennie he said at last, 'come nearer to
me"
And she kneeled by his chair, in sudden
impulse she dared not define, not yet She
put her other hand in his, and lifted her
dark, wet eyes to his face. Then he bent
down to the upturned face, TINT never
flinched, and in another instant he held in
his arms her form that seemed to shrink only
that he must clasp her the closer.
"Will you be my wife, Jenniel l never
loved a woman l do you. Win you be
my wife, Jennie"
YES" whispered the red lips that never
once turned away from his thick raining
kisses.
In Bertha Ellingsworth's own parlor it
was, with her mothers face looking down
from the painted canvas, in the room where
the daughter OF the house had SO coldly en-
tertained the heir of the Breton mills Ali
yes, and where she had taught Curran, the
prophet of the poor, to love her, and she the
very essence Of the spirit he taught them to
hate But how her proud face would vince
nowl If she were only here! Her father,
the haughtiest of men, to everybody in the
great world beneath him cold as an iceberg,
they said, arrogant as any duke of courtly
circle, could it be he praying, with hot
breath, the love and the hand of his servant
maid Could it be he holding her SO fondly
in his arms, where he might have gathered
coy DANES of the stateliest rank lavishing
honeyed words and mad endearments ON his
poor servant girl, whose only nice dress it was
he was crushing so recklesslyl Ali it was
worth the cost If she had to tear her heart
out, for all that wealth can buy will be hers.
She nestles her burning face on his Shout
der and tempts him to new careSses and new
words OF folly, that he may not remember
yet what a strange thing it is that he Is
doing; that he not think of repenting until
his enthralled senses shall make him forget
everything else rather than this sweet H6dr.
Her widest dreams are realized She will be