Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-04-28

ing met me tonight, he says at last. in q low, vehement tone
 His intensity frightens her.
 "There is no need for it. have nrom. ised; but if you wish it, yes-I swear not to reveal our having met" she answers neryously. "Was it this you wished to say to me, Paul?'
 ssThis-and something else. But first''-
 He breaks off abruptly, and laying his hands upon her shoulders, turns her so he can see her better. He has been gaz- ing at her intently, and the extreme beauty of her flower like face, enhanced by the touch of timidity his stern voice and manner have brought into it. has set on fire the love that already burns brightly in his bosom. She is the one solitary thing on earth that he cares for the one human creature he adores with a passion, wild, ungovernable, that some times from the very strength of it makes even him tremble. If he should lose heri The very idea makes the blood rush tu- multuously to his head. And there is that to be said to her tonight that But she will not fail him-she shah notl
 'sNadine!" exclaims he, in suppressed tone-low, vehement. t'Teu me that you love me! I have loved you so we'll that I will not believe you have given me no return. All my heart-nay, my very soul, is yours to save or ruin, as you will. Is such devotion to go unrewarded? See! am waiting-trembling before you as the veriest leaf that grows, lest your word fail me. Does not this touch you? Are you insensib1e, heartless? We'll, thenl if you cannot from your heart say that you love me, at least tell me that your heart is empty-that you are indifferent to all the world"
 He waited breathlessly. But as the waiting lengthens a dark frown gathers on his brow, and savage expression curves his lips. Nadine, faint, terrified, and still with that terrible numbness overpowering her, draws back step or two and presses her hand convulsively against her face. Annerley, laying his hands upon her shoulders, gives her a violent shake. A low cry escapes her. This cry releases her from the nervous bondage in which she has been held
 Speak, girlp' cries he roughly. "It is true you never yet told me that you love me. Am I now to learn that you man?''
 "Oh! no! nor' The assurance falls from her with fervor which he places to wrong account. With a passionate thankfulness she tells herself that she can at least answer this last question with truth. To no man has she said, 1T love you.''
 "Ah!" says Annerley, drawing long breath of eager relief, "that is well for my rival had he existed.''
 There is such subdued ferocity in his tone that Nadine shivers.
 "Be content" she says, calmly, s'you have no rival There is no one can marry'-
 Except me. That is as it should be- D He signs heavily, and still regards her with lowering brow. 'sNow for my news" he says.
 "To-morrow. Will not tomorrow do?'' asks she, faintly, feeling tired and over done.
 "To-morrow shall probably be out of town. Yes," answering her glance of surprise. 1T shall be abroad for week or two-on business.''
 'The same pusiness?' demands she, eagerly.
 "You re g wonderful guesser," re- turns he. There is vague suggestion of sheer in his smile sBefore going, however, want to tell you that 8 stroke of luck has at last fallen at my feet. To- day the-my-nly chief sent for me and offered me a-a higher stool in the office, in fact''-
 He hesitated good deal, and seems in decd slngularly ignorant of the proper terms to be used with regard to his rise in his position.
 ''I am very g1ad,n says Nadine, in her clear, cold, girish voice, so devoid of real interest.
 ''This rise will enable me to marry,'' continues he, watching her closely. She is evidently aware of his scrutiny, be cause her face remains impassive, even while her fingers interlace each other and grow into clasp that leaves her knuckles white. She mods her head softly in an swer to his remark, not trusting herself to speak.
 "But it will take me out of town" He is watching her still narrowly. But this time she manages to meet his gaze. If, indeed, her fate is to marry this man, and go with him wheresoever he goes, then it will be only kind of fortune to drive them into the country, far from this great London, where one meets every one, and where those known to her in he1 present life might sometimes (cruel thoughD be seen by her.
 'Well?'' she says.
 sIt will take me out of the country. The fact is, continues he, rushing at the rest of his communication, "I have been offered post of-of trust that will take me to America"
 "You go there in search of this man who has stolen the sapphires?' says she, quickly. "You arc hunting him down Is this your post of trust? Are you a-a detective?"
 Something like vague smile fits across his face as he notices how she ShrinkS from him.
 "Not exactly" His tone is full of mys. tery. eff detectives are abhorrent te you, be happy in the thought that have nothing in common with them; that, iu fact, detest them quite as much as you do. No; am going there in advance of the detectives, as 1 hope. You'll be ready to come with me?''
 ''Is it to be soOn?"
 "It may sound soon to you, perhaps. In about month from to-day" It is now growing toward the end of July. "But I may have to start earlier than that. You will be ready?''
 He is very pale as he presses the ques- tion. If she refuseS-if she even bar gains for more time, it will cause confus- ion. But she does not refuse. A pro- found sigh escapes her, but she says:
 ''Yes, shall be ready" in a voice sub dued but void of trembling. If she is to