The Dickinson press. (Dickinson, Stark County, D.T. [i.e. N.D.]) 1883-1927, 1889-09-07
A l.otoS Of The Nile.
By CHRISTIAN REID.


Clare disappearance as Mr.. Ellis has
called it, during the last week"
Il am sure you ought to be obliged to
ne, then," Clare said, flushing and
laughing. "Assuredly could not have
furnished you with topic of conversa-
ton for whole week if had been pres
ent.
Opinion has been divided concerning
the mystery of your fate" she went on.
'One party has maintained that, rush
ing away in desperation, when you heard
Of Mr.. Brent's arrival, you started the
next day for Suez; the other, that you
were hanging about the grounds, armed
to the teeth, and only waiting an oppor-
tunity to dare your rival to deadly COM
bat"
How kind ones friends are, to be
sure, especially when they are in the
country, and have nothing in particular
with which to amuse themselvesl"
But what have you been doing?
should like to know if you do not object
to telling me-"
II have been very busy making my
final arrangements for leaving the coun-
try answered he, stretching q point, it
must be owned
you are really going. then?r she
asked after minutes silence-a minute
during which she was horribly conscious
that her changing countenance might
readily have betrayed to any locker on
how deeply she felt this unexpected blow.
II wrote to Gen. on the night I
saw you last, accepting his offer," Clare
answered. "Of course l am in duty
bound, therefore, to report in Cairo as
soon as possible"
'And you will sell Claremont?"
Il have no alternative"
She said nothing more, but he saw her
hand-the same white jeweled hand that
had CLEANED on his arm in the starlight
go to her throat with quick, convul-
sive movement. Instead of the thrill of
repulsion which he had felt before, a
sudden sense Of pity and regret came
over him now. He was not enough Of q
puppy to feel q certain keen enjoyment
and gratified vanity in the realization of
this womans folly. He appreciated, on
the contrary, how entirely she had been
a spoiled child of fortune all her life-a
queen regnant, to whom all things must
submit themselves-and he felt how bit
ter must be this first sharp proof of her
own impotence to secure the toy on which
she had set her heart. 1t was these
thoughts which made his voice almost
gentle when he spoke again: "You must
not think that l am ungrateful for your
kind interest in my behalf You can
imagine. perhaps, how much 1 hate to
part with Claremont, which has been the
seat of my family for generations; but
when a thing must be done there is no
use in making moan over it. cannot
sacrifice my life to tradition of the past;
and that would be what should do if l
clung to the old place. instead of cutting
loose with one sharp stfoke and swim.
ming boldly out to sea"
But you might stay if you would, -
said she, with that tremulous accent
which the French call tears in the
voice"
mo, l could not stay" said Clare reso-
lutely. ~ have no money, nor any
means of making any in America"
This ended the discussion. Even Mrs
Lancaster, fast and daring and willful as
she was, could not say, II have money
more than know what to do with; take
it," Her eyes said as much, but Clare
did not look at her eyes a minute longer
passed in embarrassed silence Then
somebody came up, and Victor was able
TO walk away. AS he crossed the room
lie saw Eleanor Milbourne for the first
time since his arrival. He had not even
inquired if she was still at The Willows,
and her unexpected appearance, for
he had begun to fear that she was
gone, filled him with q rush of feel
ings Of which the first and most promi-
nent was delight, After all, did it mat
ter whether or not she was engaged to
Marston Brent2 Simply to look at her
was enough TO fill mans soul with
pleasure, to steep him in that "dewlight
of repose" which only few rare things
on this earth Of ours are capable of in
spring. Did any sane person ever fly
from the sight of Venus when she held
her court all alone in the lovely summer
heaven, because he could not possess her
magic luster for his own? The compar-
ison was not ut all highhown to Glare,
whatever it may seem to any body else.
81. had always entertained as much hope
Of winning the star as of winning the
woman; and as for an abstract question
of beauty, he would have held that Venus
herself could not have surpassed Eleanor
Milbourne. She was an adorable goddess
whom any man might be content to
worship from a distance, he thought;
and he was preparing to 20 and sun him
self In the glance of her eyes, which
seemed like bits of heaven in their blue
ness and their fairness, when Mrs. Brant-
ley touched his arm and bade him take a
newly arrived piece Of white muslin in
to dinner. Clare looked little crest
fallen, but against the decision Of his
hostess on this important subject what
civilized man was ever known to revolt?
He took the white muslin in to dinner,
and had the satisfaction Of finding him
self separated by the length Of the table
from Miss Milbourne.
After dinner Mrs. Brantley claimed his
attention. Itseemed that there was plan
under discussion for showing the sole
lion Of the neighborhood-a hill of con-
siderable eminence known as Farley's
Mount-to the guests of The Willows
But it was distant twelve miles What
did Maj. Clare think of their starting
sasly. breaking the ride by rest and
luncheon at Claremont, then going on to
the mountain, making the ascent, and
returning by moonlight?
ut will not do at all" said Victor
"Twenty-four miles is too much to be
undertaken on July day by a mere
party of pleasure. You would break
yourselves down and SEQ nothing. I
propose an amendment: Take two days
instead Of one, and spend night on the
mountain. II you have never camped
on mountain, the novelty is well worth
experiencing, and these midsummer
nights have scarcely any length, you
know. Then the sunrise Is magnificent.
"That is exactly what we will do, !"