The Press., 1888-03-22


 Creasing coldneSs. sYeE must always think that, for whatever has happened, [ you have only yourself to blame.@ sa ' ~h It g crime to love youP" he de- mands boldly. la
 "Sir,"she exclaims indignantly, and raising her beautiful eyes to his for 3 moment, @I must request you will never speak to me of love. There IS neither sympathy nor common friend iness between us. You are well aware with what sentiments regard you.
 ~But, why am I alone to be treated with cOntempt?" he asks, with sudden passion. "All other men of your ac- quaintance are graciously received by you, are met with smiles and kindly words. Upon me alone your eyes rest, when they deign to glance in my direc- tiOn, with marked disfavor. All the world can see it. l am signaled out from the others as one to be sighted and spurned."
 cOntemptuOuSly. T have met you here to-day to rohearse our parts for next Tuesday evening, not to listen to any insolent words you may wish to address to me. Let us begin"-Opening her book. "If you know your part, go on." "I'know my part only too well; it is to worship you madly, hopelessly; Your
  passion. Florence, hear me" q will not" she says, her eyes fash ing. She waves him back from her as he endeavors to take her hand. "Is it not enough that have been persecut- ed by your attentions-attentions most hateful to me-for the past year, but you must now obtrude them upon me here? You compel me to tell you in plain words what my manner must oh v0ll only tn0 pInarIv-fhQf you are distasteful to me in every way, that your very presence troubles me, that your touch is abhorrent to mel"
 "Ah," he says, stepping back as she hurls these words at him, and regard ing her with a face distorted by pas sion, "if I were the master here, in stead of the poor cOusin-if I were Sir be very d1fferentl"
 At the mention of Sir Adrian's name the color dies out of her face and she grows deadly pale. Her lips quiver, but her eyes do not droOp.
 T do not understand you" she says proudly.
 "Then you shall," responds Dyne- court. "Do you think am blind, that I can not see how you have given your conquered where other men have failed; that, even before he has de- clared any love for you, you have, in spite of your pride, given all your af- lection to him?"
 "You insult me-" cries Florence with quiyering lips. She looks faint, and is trembling Yisibly. If this man has read her heart alright, may not all guests have read it too2 May not even Adrian himself have discovered her se- cret passion, and perhaps despised her for it, as being unWOmanly?
 &And mOre," goes on DynecOurt, ex- ulting ill the torture he can see he is inficting; though you thrust from you an honorable love for one that lives on- 1y in your imagination, will tell you that Sir Adrian has other views, other intentions. l have reason to know that, when he marries, the name of his bride will not be Florence Delmaine."
 Leave me, sir," cries Florence, rous- ing herself from her mOmentary weak ness, and speaking with all her old fire, "and never. presume to address me again. Col"
 She points with extended hand to the door at the lower end of the gallery. So Standing, with her eyes strangely bright, and her perfect figure drawn up to it's fullest height, she looks superb in her disdainful beauty.
 Dynecourt, losing his self-possession as he gazes upon her, suddenly filings himself at her feet and catches her dress in his hands to detain her.
 Have pity on me-" he cries implor- ingly; it is my unhappy love for you that has driven me to speak thusI Why is Adrian to have all, and l nothing? He has title, lands, position above and beyond everything, the priceless treasure of your love, whilst am bank rupt in all. Show me some mercy some kindneSs!"
 They are both so agitated that they fail to hear the sound of approaching footsteps.
 Release me, sir" cries Florence lm- periously.
 Nay; first answer me one question" i" entreats DynecoUrt. Do you love my cOuSin?"
 -"I care nothing for Sir Adrian!" re- plies Florence distinctly, and in a Somewhat raised tone, her self-pride being touched to the quick.
 Two figures who have entered the gallery by the second door at the upper end of it, hearing these words uttered in an emphatic tone, start and glance at the tableGH presented to their view lower down. They hesitate, and, even as they do so, they can see Arthur Dynecourt seize Florence Delmaine'S hand, and, apparently unrebuked, kiss
 
 8Then I shall hope still" he says in a low but impressive voice, at which the two who have just entered turn and beat a precipitate retreat, fearing that they may be seen. One is Sir Adrian, the other Mrs. Talbot.
 Dear me-" stammers Dora, in pretty confusion, "Who would have thought it? was never so amazed in my life" Sir Adrian, who has turned very pale, and is looking greatly distressed, makes no reply. He is repeating over and over again to himself the words he has just heard, as though unable and unwilling to compr ehend them. T care nothing for Sir Adrian!" They strike knell to all his dearest hopes. And that fellow on his knees before her, kissing her hand, and telling her he will still hopel Hope for what? Alas, he tells himself, he knows only too Well-her loyel '.
 "I am so glad they have made it up," Dora goes on, looking up sympatheti- cally at Sir Adrian.
 Made it up? I had no idea they were more than ordinary and very new acquaintances."
 "1t is quite year since we first met Arthur in Switzerland" responds Dora demurely, calling Dynecourt by his Christian name, thing she has never done before, because she knows it will give Sir Adrian the impression that his cousin. "He has been our shadow ever since. wonder you did not notice his devotion in town"
 "I noticed. nothing" says Sir Adrian, miserably; GOT, if I did, it was only, to form wrong impressions. 1 firmly be-