Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1888-03-30

preached Valerie. Her heart beat heavily
as he came near, but she did not move, and
scarcely looked at him.
Valerie he said, pausing by her side,
twill you not sing something's"
''If you like" she answered, raising her
self from her lOunging attitude as if to
quit her seat.
But not yet" said Beauregard, taking
the vacant place beside her; Il have scarce
ly spoken a dozen words TO you this eve
ming"
Valerie sank back again, looking at him
through her long lashes.
Her manner was not encouraging, but
Max did not seem to heed it. He went on:
And l have had no opportunity Of full
film. my promise
"YL>lr promises" repeated Valerie.
"Nhat PROMISE"
But even as tie words passed her lips
sle recalled what he had said earlier in
the evening about the park, and added,
quickly:
81 remember now! I beg your pardon.
Yes. tell me what you meant"
only this" he bent little nearer to her.
''There is an old tree in the park-in the
| Abbot's Gien-yOu saw the picture OF 1t
| this evening-the Enchanted Oak"
1t was the first allusion he had ever made
! to that happy past when he had called her
| the Fairy Queen and asked her to invite
| him to her moonlight revels under the En-
| chanted Oak Why did he speak of it'
| The blood mounted to Nalerie's cheek: she
| turned her face aside; but otherwise she
| sat mOuonleSS-nOt even a movement OF
! the hands, though She felt as if her heart
must cease to beat; vet Max Beauregard,
| watching her, saw that his allusiOn had
| gone straight hOme-had stirred very
| passion of emotion within her. The nobler
| nature still strove against the crust of
| wOrldlineSs; she could contrast, with
! shame, the present and the past; she could
feel that she was better happier, then, and
| long for power to blot out the record of the
| last two years; even now, so late, he, Max
| Beauregard might have saved her from
| herself. if-that fatal if!-he had not been
! lord of AbbOt's Leigh and all its broad
| lands! But the test was lacking: and love
| that was half for the man and half for all
| that he possessed, Max BeaurCgard would
| have none Of it. Yet he was playing with
fire in having this girl whom lie loved: but
would not WOO, under his roof What
| then? 1t was the soldier spirit in the field
! Of love rs in the field of battle; to do and
to dare.
He spoke again after a pause, changing
his tone to the more ordinary conversations
al manner.
you must let me show you the tree some
day, Naerie-or better, by moonlight. The
Abbot's Glen is one of the lCyeliest in the
park"
4 shall like to see il, said the girl, re-
covering herself, though her voice was, to
his keen ear, Il little constrained. How
did the tree gain its Nance
AN old LEGEND. There used to be u
monastery on the lands of the LciGh-Some
of the ruins still remain; and the abbots-
perhaps needless to say-Werc always Beau
regards One abbot, GervaiS, in the four.
tcenth century, was much disturbed III
spirit by hearing that the fairies held high
reve}s under an old oak in the adjacent
| forest land; and he determined to put an
end to the reyelS. Wherefore he watched
in the glen alone, every moonlight night
for the purpose of exercising the fairies
1t seems, however, that the little PeOplc
got the best of it, in spite of bell, book,
and candles" for one day the abbot was
ms,iug; he glen was searched. but with
out effect and holy Gervais was never seen
or heard of more. 1t could only be sur
missed that the fairies haH spirited the
monk hoIiIr oyov Tho ,r,bqbiIiIv is :,
aIled Nix irrevarentIy ..if thrre is any
i,,.,t5 !. thr stnry at aIi-tbat the Jolly AL
l,,, ned eff with Soma fair. ,Iai,,a .
For shame!' exclaimed Valerie. laugh
inc. ito SANDER your ancestors in that way
fully believe the story, and | think the
abbot deserved his fate. The fairies did nc
harmr'
'Oh! Of course You take their part! Per
haps you were one OF them-tor fairies are
immortal, you KNOW; and SO have told
you no news.
no. sac said r'"'l'N' anu was DcI'ei
i'"le no" ~ l''' ~ ''cI II''l'i9' ,'"''|'t ''S
"C'IC "c'' l"',' an" every LSlNT q"INti
co. never ne'.' 'N'''9 "'''''' l"'' "'tN
p"I IeiH"p' ! Nli' now IL 20" WIZ Pi"iilIS :!
NOT 10 sel1l .'le Gu" ''''lh |" Si"'' t'lG l""'
'''''M II "l''' H%t >'''''o4 "e"',ie
-"i''' '"'.'A' i,e "'"',' "''''i'o 'e'
ms N,',' " - :, - - VI" 49,
'L'ii'e> 60 -, =, ',' ga ''D@
,i''' va ,'''''''' = ''''' - 60 ''N t'"0
'l,'t M" "l'''i 20 '''''i ~ '""' II 20,
WIZ N',i"'' &C. ~ ''t ','s
t'i'"','il' i'' lo.'HI" a. d: i'el N'eIli ?
''"'' l'' % ~ ''','
ptluih[ cow a." H''LC' "u"'u' gently
Inc S'rl S'"II1".
mo, she answered, hufrledly. Bu'
but surely We nave talked enough non
sense:
"If yOu think sO-therc is no more to bC
said. Come, then. and sing one of you
sweet German songs"
The music was brought. and Valerie Sc
IrctcI one of Schubcrt's songs. carefully
uassincr over some that she had no mind t,
einr tn-ni,rht Thrn Colnnnl B.aurrgar,
drew, back and let Lord Westbrook turr
over for bor lint ha Iistanal with ar N
tense DELIGHT ia har .ip,fncr Iitt1n drcam
i,,r +I,+ a., ,,,,1, -. -, ,,I lo,,,
for no ones thanks but his. Valerie hat
a rich pure mezzo, which in the last tw
years had been carefully cultivated. 5h
sang with exquisite taste, and depth o
expression which would be still nor
marked in songs thar gave scope for sue
expression; but these she refused, whel
urged by Lor Westbrook, TO sing tonight
Il am not in Il mood for pathos or pas
sonate lameuts," she said, lightly, an,
would only sing songs OF her own selection
That night Ms. Langley lay some tim
awake, sorely p2rpleNci in spirit. Wha
could Nalerie's conduct this evening mean
Was it coquetry? Was it rebellion? Dir
she mean to show Max Beauregard tina
She did not care for him, and would no
pretend TO do so2 or was she only trying I
test her power:-a dangerous game wit
| such Il man rs RnaUrprarl But mt an