Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-05-03

senses. We'll, it is good exchange for her. Maurice Duran is handsome, and rich, and her hearts chosen. She is 8 lucky girlr'
 "Are you unluckyi" He asks the ques- tion wistfully, looking down at her with his plain, kindly face rather disturbed. 1T am ugly and poor, and not altogether sure that [ am the chosen of her who is all the world to me''
 "Ohi you are youi'' returns she senten- tiously. "And as for Maurice Duran, would not marry him, oven if he had the grace to ask me-"
 "And you will marry mel" eagerly.
 Urine will prove that"
 She laughs at him little saucily from under her long lashes, and holds out to him a hand with such dainty sweetness as brings him to her feet at once.
 'My darling girll''
 "A darling girl, no doubt; but not yours yet, however"
 "And why not, since you are freeP'
 ''1 was quite free all along, it seemsr eXclaims she with a quick flash of wounded pride that brings the hot blood to her cheeks She springs from her seat and paces rapidly up and down the room. Presently she stops short before him, and lifts her dark, angry eyes to his. 'I wonder you have not too much pride to care for the woman who was despised by that thiefr she says, with angry excite ment.
 ''I care for Millicent Grey. It is absurd to dwell upon such thing" returns he strongly.
 Shall ever forget it, wonder-to be rejected by such as him! To learn from his own lips that was merely used as a blind; that while paying attention to me his whole heart and soul was devoted to anotherl"
 "But what soul and heartl you should consider that"
 "The meaner they are, the more re- sent his conduct. And to say it before them an!-my aunt, Lady Valworth, Sir Thomas, you! When he thus scorned me publicly, with that evil smile upon his lips, had only one wish left"
 "And that?''
 "That were man, to thrust the words back in his throat and kill him."
 "And yet you held me from him at the moment. He is still ill the house, how ever. I will compel him to apologize to''- begins the hot Irishman, making for the door.
 'No, it would be useless" interposes she, quickly "It is done it cannot be undone, and surely his mother has suffered enough. There must be no further dis turbance."
 ''I can follow him, however"
 'tI tell you, you could never undo what notice. should be ashamed to confess that his sting hurt me. And we are bound to remember his mother"
 "Ah! poor Lady Valworthl She indeed is the one to be pitied."
 ''So you would say, could you see her now"
 "Where is she?''
 'In her own room. Sir Thomas was with her. His grief for her was very touching, but she seemed, thought, i'm patient underit. She looked old, crushed, brokenr
 Millicent turns aside, but not before he can see that the hot tears are running down her cheeks.
 "Poor woman!" says he softly. And then: "My darling, you are worn out. You have been thinking for every one Let me now think for you. You want rest. Let me persuade you to lie down for little while'
 "It would be useless. could not sleep. The very air is heavy with trouble. As long as that man remains in the house I hardly know how any of us can breathe.
 "That difficulty will be conquered in a few hours. He will leave, of course, by the early train.
 "I suppose so. His poor motherr'
 "Milicent! Try to forget it all for awhile at least. Think of something else''- he pauses and looks at her en- treatingly. "Could you not think of me?''
 eff I hadn't you to think of I should go mad, :" returns she, with sudden soft vehe- mence. She holds out her hands to him. "You are my one comfort" she whispers brokenly.
 They do not hear the door open, and in- deed she is still in his arms when Mrs Brands voice falls on their ears.
 ''Is this what you call taking little rest'?" she asks, with deep reproach There is, however, no anger in her tones he looks too sad, too depressed for any open demonstrations of annoyance.
 "Mrs. Brand," says Massareene, ad- vancing eagerly toward her, "you know must have known for a long time. Now that this unhappy affair has left her once again her own mistress, do not refuse to let me plead my cause"
 Mrs. Brand has sunk into chair.
 "You are very persistent" she says, tapping her fingers upon the table near.
 Because am very much in love-"
 fAnd Milicent?'
 "I dare to hope that she-has found some room in her heart for me-"
 ''Let her speak for herself" says Mrs. Brand, with faint touch of 1lnpatience. "Wel1, Milicent, how is it with you?''
 s'I love him, auntie," says Miss Grey demurely. 1T can't help that, can Ii And-I wouldn't if could! He is not rich, of course, but money isn't every thing. I have been very dutiful up to this. That you must allow"
 She says nothing of the secret passages between her and Massareene, and of the determination lately come to, to defy the world of relations for his sake. 'tOnce you chose for mel
 She pauses. Mrs. Brand sighs.
 "That choice was not altogether happy.''
 Still Mrs. Brand is silent.
 ssI think perhaps if were to choose for myself this time, it would be better"
 At this her aunt rouses herself.
 "I had hoped to sec you make great alliance" she says mournfully. "You, with vonr fort11ue and--and fin af rnfort,1-