San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-01-05
Valerie;
OR,
HALF A TR j TIL
BY 1.-THE DUCHESS. "

To Valerie il almost seemed as If she was
carried upward, so easy did her compan-
ions supple strength make the way for
her; and every pulse was throbbing with
the magnetism of his clasp, and the name
he called her was ringing in her heart a
wild, joyous chime-the sweet old name
by which it seemed as il he meant to con
tradict her hard. reckless words, that one
month chased away the memory of anoth-
er.
And at length-was it too soon or not
soon enough, how could Valerie knOw?-
they reached the top of Mervyn's Hill, and
stood on the broad plateau, partially COW
cred with trees, and Valerie uttered cry
of delight, and snatched her hand from
Beauregard's, to clasp it with her other
hand over her bosom.
"Oh" she said, under her breath, chow
beautifulv'
Hill, and wood, and stream, lay before
them, all bathed in the August sunshine;
an immense stretch of country, fading full
five and-twenty miles away, into purple
distance.
The girl moved forward a few steps, and
stood rapt and mOtiOnless-her lips quiv-
ering, her dark eyes shining like stars, her
whole being drinking in the wOndrous
charm of landscape beauty, yet not forget
ful-neyer for one second fOrgetful-Of the
silent presence near her; rather were her
senses the more deeply imbued with ma
lures lOveliness because he was there-the
centre of her universe; for all the pain,
Love took up the glass of time, and turned 1t
in his glowing hands;
Every moment lightly shaken, ran itself in
golden sands"
For him alsot Ali that whisper stealing
through all the chambers of her heart;
those memOries-nay, not memories, for
they were ever present-it was not then,
but nOlC-of tones, of looks, of words, two
years ago; yesterday; to-day; clasp of the
hand, kiss that spoke more than a mo-
ment's impulse-ay, even bitter words; for
why the bitterness without the wound?
Did he, even while he despised her, love
herr Had he loved her, then-then, when
honor had sealed his lips, and she, in her
blindness, had made him believe her un-
worthy the love of any high-souled man.
Had she flung her life away-and his, too
maybe? Or was it only madness to dream
that sunk so low as she must be in his
eyes, he could love he-?
Beausegard had drawn back little from
Valerie's side, and stood leaning against a
tree, with eyes that saw the landscape only
as the background to figure; but after a
few minutes he moved nearer to her, and
spoke softly:
"Are you repaid the toll of the ascent"
She half turned.
"Ohl yes, yesr' she said. at is lovely
so wide and free"
She stopped, and stretched out her hands
with an unconscious gesture of longing, to-
ward the distant hills.
"If you had the wings Of a dove" said
Max, in the same soft voice, "you would
flee away-and be at rest?"
But Valerie's hands dropped before her,
tightly clasped, her eyes went back to the
hills; she had no answer; there was no rest
for her-save one!
Why did he ask the question: Did he
mean that for a nature false to itself there
was no rest?
But in the moments pause that followed,
voice broke upon the stiffness, and Max
Beauregard, with the readiness of man
Of the world, turned to meet Lord West
brook with light, laughing words. Per