The Dickinson press. (Dickinson, Stark County, D.T. [i.e. N.D.]) 1883-1927, 1889-10-12

upon the marguerite in her hand. "And
l thought if sent him ono with she
loves you coming on the last petal it
would tell him everything. Would it
not?'-wistfully
"You know him SO much better than
do that you can answer that question
more satisfactorily for yourself He is
in the billiard room. Are you going there
now to give it to hinl?'
"I-I can't" says the girl, with
sudden accession of shyness. coloring
violently. acknowledgements
twill you give 1t to him for me?:"
"Nle! You ask mel" says Katherine,
growing deadly pale and recoiling from
her.
"If you will, dearest" says the girl
timidly.
ASK any one but me" says Miss Nu-
gent, in u low but vehement tone, throw.
ing out her hands with passionate gcs-
ture. Then, the necessity for co:npos,,rc
recurring to her, she makes q supreme
effort, and in some measure regains calm
ness "Takeit yourself" she says slowly,
but her tone is harsh and strained As
yet she cannot altogether command her
self
IL should be ashamed to go to him
now" says the young girl, with blush
and an abasled laugh. "Katherine, do
help me. He is in the billiard room;
take him this flower and tell him l snail
be in tho library IN five minutes am
going there now."
"You persist in asking me to do this:"
says Miss Nugent in strange tone.
II don't insist"-gently-"I only ell
treat you. There, 80, like dear girl;
and-and be sure you take the flower
with great care. rs the loss of a petal
would be fatal You think me foolish.
don't you?' she says. blushing again as
she misconstrues the fixed expression OH
her companions features.
II think you are mad" saws Katherine
slowly. Give ME the flower, then, |
will take tiff can" The last words
uttered in falling tone, arc unheard by
Alys as she moves away to the library
there to wait witt, beating heart the COM
ing and the pardon of her lover.
Left alone in Tho large hail. Katherine
stands motionless, staring vacantly at the
pale marguerite. There appears to be
in it some horrible fascination for i,cr
Her eyes are rivetcd upon it: her lips
twitch; slowly (as though deferred by
some hidden power) her other hand
creeps toward it.
Almost as slo touches 1t she pa,lses,
and a shudder passes over her With a
heavy sigh that is almost sob, she reso
lutcly throws up her head, thus with
| drawing her eyes from the flower, and at
the same time places the hand that holds
it behind her back. as though to remove
it from her gaze.
a struggle short but sharp goes on
within her. So powerful is it that her
whole frame trcmbles beneath it. Then
a face, childish, trusting, pleading, rises
| before her, and she moves with hurried
footsteps in the direction Of the billiard
room, still with the flower hidden from
| her view. But, almost as she turns the
handle of the door, a voice from within,
reaching her, kills the good so lately
born. 1t brings before her another face
the face Of the man she loves passion
ately though hopclessly-and, with a
groan, she falls back from the door, and,
her nerves ceasing to be under her con-
troll, the arm SO persistently heretofore
kept behind her falls again into its usual
position, SO bringing her eyes once more
on the fatal flower
Is she to be the one to give this baby
to his arms?-shc, whose vaguest thought
| Of him contains moro passion than the
warmest this pctulant child has ever
| tl,o L,1f cl, t,,l
der, girlish face comes before her; but
this time she shakes the apparition from
her with a frown. Pshaw! she would
forget in month this mawkish love of
hers, and would be ready to love again
III her poor fashion. And yet-there
was something in those large blue eyes
| that
She hesitates for one heaven born mo-
ment, and then is lost.
Deliberately plucking one white petal
from the marguerite, she opens the door
| Of the billiard room, and, with smile
and calm word or two to some man
| who addresses her, moves with languid
| grace to where Ponsonby is standing
| somewhat apart from the others.
"Do you remember that book of James
we were discussing last night" she says
81 can't think where 1 put it? Have you
any ideal:"
II think you took it up stairs with
| you.
"Oh, did I? dare say 1t is Just
the most possible places one never
searches Thank you The fact of
| not being able to get it has made me
long for it with the greater intensity for
the last hour" She turns as if to go
away; then turns back again, as though
| in sudden remembrance of some trivial
thing. II had nearly forgotten" she
says careessly, "but your little fiancee
asked me to give you this rs met her
on my way here just now" She holds
| out to him, as she says this, the frail
blossom in her hand, now dropping as
| though sad at heart because of the trcacl-
cry of which, it is tho unwilling agent.
"From Alys:" says Ponsonby, a flush
born of emotion darlscning his face in
spite Of his desperate resolve to show
| none.
eyes. She desired Inc also to tell you
she would be in the library any time
from this. Alover's tryst st'-witha light
laugh-"To take my revenge now, Capt.
Sartoris? Well, don't mind. Sir George
to play with me against you and Lady
Newport? Charming! Consider your
selves beaten before you begin. Ifeel
that victory rests with me tonight"
There is an exultant ring in her voice
as she takes up her cue with hand
steady as marble, and as cold. 1t is the
hand that moment since held the mu-
tilated marguerite.
The flush has died from Ponsonby'a
face, leaving only a deathly pallor in its
| place, and smile replete with scorn for
his own weakness. In eager, hopeful
anticipation he had plucked the petals
one by one from the flower sent by the
love he now deems false, only to find the
bitter assurance that sho loves him mot
at all" at its end.
How had it ever came to pass that lie