The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1888-06-30


tation; her expression was gracious, and
seemed to assure him of her sympathies,
whatever mystery he might choose TO un-
fold. And perhaps it would be only right
and kind to explain why simple song had
power to blanch his cheeks, why all un-
known voice singing ameng the garden
shadows had power to make his strong
frame tremble.
"The song has associations which | do
do not care to recall" he said slowly, and
as If fspeech were difficult. at is associat-
ed with one who was dearer to me than
life, and whom | trusted as l would haye
trusted an angle from heaven
but she could not have betrayed the
trust of-of one like you," Diane MUIR
INJURED in her best rehearsed accents of sub
tie flattery.
| II was spending a few months in
country town where she was residing tenn
porarily with relative upon whom she
was dependent, for the poor child was far
from being rich," he continued. "An ur-
gent dispatch summoned me to a friend
who was overtaken with some serious
monetary difficulty in distant part of the
state, | sent u note TO her, and started at
once. When | returned, few weeks later,
! she was gone. 1t was understood that dur
| ing nay absence an old suitor-a well-to-do
gentleman who was sincerely attached to
her-had appeared that they had been
married, and had left Immediately for his
home in the west. Do you wonder that
song she loved, that voice like hers. has
power to unman me?''
1T is verS sad," Diane answered
1T is sadder still that | am powerless TO
tear her image from my heart, to Danish
her from my memory. Lying or dead,
true or false, | am doomed to love Esme
Vaughn until my latest breath,p the Young
man sighed.
AT the mention of his loved ore's name,
little cry broke shrilly from Dane's lips.
1t was Esme Vaughn who had been sing
ing among the shadows of the garden, the
girl to whom Diane had alluoed as a SER
want, and who, during the last year, had
been serving as companion to Daine's in.
valid mother
During that year Diane had learned
something of the love romance in the
life of pale-faced, sad-eyed young com
panion.
Esme never knew that her lover had been
summoned so imperatiyely from her side;
his little explanatory note had never
reached her AS the days went by and he
did not return, she began TO believe that he
had been trihing, that his promises were
meaningless, that he meyer meant to come
back TO her. In her humiliation and de-
spair she had left her relatives house and
sought employment which might afford
her alike an independence and occupation
to divert her mind from her bitter grief.
The Story of her old suitor's appearance
had only beeu bit of village gossip mag
nified into some semblance of truth by her
precipitate departure.
All these pitiful details of the little ro.
nance presented themselves connectedly to
Diane's understanding; she had already
gathered something from Esme's half con
fidences, and Edmund Warham had made
the remainder sufficiently plain.
perhaps she may yet be restored 70
you," said Diane, feeling that it was the
only possible thing to say, under the cir
cumstances.
"lt cannot be; well meet in life 10
more Diane" he returned gloomily as he
withdrew.
But he did not leave the place when lie
went slowly down the steps of the pretty
house. HI loitered in the bloomy garden
some inexplicable fascination lured him to
the spot where voice, so like the voice of
his lost beloved, had been singing among
the roses.
Meanwhile Diane Medford had turned to-
ward her own room.
As she neared the staircase her attention
was attracted by bright light streaming
beneath the door of the little study at the
further end of the hall.
''Esme is there" she thought, with con-
tracted brows and tightening lips. 81 have
something to say to her which had better
be said at once for leave the house and
neighborhood she must, and this very hour
If have my way in the matter"
She opened the door and stepped quickly
into the room, her pale eyes flaming omiu-
ously, a spot on either check glowing as
blood-red as the rubies about her throat.
The low French windows were open
wide; the heavy lace curtains were sway
ing to and frow in the evening wind; the
gas was haring high, throwing weird lights
and shadows upon the occupant Of the
room, who was lying silent and mOtionless
upon corner sofa.
"Esme, are you sleeping?" Diane asked
impatiently.
There was no reply. The girl never
stirred; she lay as if lifeless, rather than
sleeping. Her hands were clasped over
her bosom; her loosened, dark hair fell like
cloud about her beautiful, white face the
cushion beneath her head was wet with
tears; she looked as If, like Niobe, she had
wept until the briny food of grief had
turned her to stone.
al could wish that might meyer wake
again" Diane thonght iercely, as she
stood there watching the weird light iai 4
and nicker over the sleeping form.