Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1888-08-25

And her hair was wet, and the ruiIies on her
neck were damp-it was cologne Then she
remembered everything, ard 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 cOunteTpane and ther made her way
down stairs The house was so still it fright
ened 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 parlor door; she felt as
if she must find somebody to ease the tension
OF her nerves.
Mr. Eiingsworth sat with his head bowed
on his hands; he knew it all; his home was
desoiateI, his pride outraged, At the noise
he uncovered his face for a moment and
looked Up. and the cruel light falling On his
distressed face revealed the marks of age his
TRANQUIL course OF lie and selfish and COM
placen1 philosophy had 50 long softencd and
covered. lie saw the graceful figure of his
maid in pretty attitude Of hesitation on bis
pleasure lie was alone in the world but for
her: deserted in his own home only for Eer.
"C9ue here, Jennie" he said in a broken
voice
She came into the room, and few steps
toward him Then she stopped. Her face
was almost as pale IS when she tainted, but
her black eyes shone with unusual feyerish
brilliancy.
Give me your hand, dear"
The girl started, and half turned as if to
escape Then strange thoughts darted
through her brain. A warm, red flush
mounted froIu her neck, and spread itself in
tinrlinr waves of shame to the very roots of
her black hair. She came up to him, and
reached out her little hand. He pressed it
gently, then he laid It against his check. 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, 10 one cared for her unkissed
lips.
Jennie" he said at last, 'come nearer to
me-
And she kneeed by his chair, in a 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, that never
flinched, and in another instant he held III
his arms her form that seemed to shrink only
that he must clasp her the closer.
''Will you be my wife, Jennie2 | never
loved q woman as | 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 Ellin~5worths own parlor 1t
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. All.
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
now! 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
GOV danes of the stateliest rank, laviShIng
honeyed words and mad endearments on his
Door servant girl, whose only nice dress 1t was
he was crushing so recklcsslyl All! 1t 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 strange thing it is that he is
doing; that he not think Of repentlng until
his enthralled senses shall make him forget
everything else rather than this sweet hour.
Her widest dreams are realized. She will he
one of the rich and the great waon the rest
of the world bow down to. She viii make
her husband's-yes, this man to bo her hus-
band, why should she be ashamed with him
she will make his friends all envy him his
beautiful wife; and as for their faded, fash
ionable women, with limp backs and blood
less veins, how it will please her to study the
signs of jealousy on their listless faces. And
Bertha Ellingsworths proud false heart will
ache with shame over the low born woman
whom her father has made his wife
HAS the train gone for the west" asked
breathless voice at the Lockout station.
Its thirty minutes behind its time
growled the ticket agent. 1t was Philip
Breton, who went back to the post to tie his
horse more securely. "Poor Joe, poor old
bow the big white horse seemed more like
to fan dead in his tracks than to try to break
away. "a pretty hard gallop, wasn't it, Joe,
your breath will come easier in minute, old
horse"
His time was precious, but he fingered in
an uncomfortable terror of what he had come
SO far to see. He had thought he wanted to
make sure. There might be some mistake in
the note, or even now, if she had changed her
mind-but it was all folly, he saw it now.
He had forgotten all reason in one wild long
ing to see Bertha again. But what was the
use of narrowing up his soul with new pic
lures he would pray God in vain to wipe out
of his memorys But he had come so far,
perhaps it would do no harm to look at her
once more. He had turned and was
walking along the platform, toward the
ladies' waiting room. He glanced up
the long stretch of straight track and
saw in the distance the head light
of the engine, which seemed to him
pitilesS monster, fastening on to seize his
darling and bear her to some hopeless region
of eternal night. He must hurry. Who
knows 2 it might be fate had kept her rescue
till this moment, and meant him TO save her.
He pushed the waiting room door open. The
seats appeared all vacant and expectant;