The Dickinson press. (Dickinson, Stark County, D.T. [i.e. N.D.]) 1883-1927, 1889-09-07


cat it together there. l should like to
link you even with my farewell to the
past"
And, since an interruption came Just
then, they parted with this understand
ing.
The next day Maj. Clare was standing
OIL the terrace Of Claremont-a stately,
solidly built old house. bearing itself
with an air of conscious pride and dis
dain of modern frippery, despite certain
significant signs of decay-when his
guests arrived in formidable procession.
There was something of the "old school"
in his manner Of welcoming then-a
grace and courtesy which struck more
than one of them as at once very perfect
and very charming.
THE man suits the house, does lie
not:" said Mrs. Brantley to Mrs. Lancas-
ter. ut is like vintagcof rare old wine
in an old bottle We fancy that it has an
aroma which it would lose in a new cut.
glass decantcr."
IL always thought Maj. Glare had de-
lightful manners" said Mrs. Lancaster
who could not trust herself to say any
thing more. She felt with pang how
much she would have liked to bring
wealth and prosperity and elegant hos
pitality back again to the old house, if
its owner had not been SO madly blind
to his own interest, so absurdly in love
with Eleanor Nlilbournc's statue like
face, so insanely intent upon perilinr
life and limb in the service of the vice.
roy of Egypt. The pretty widow gave Il
sigh rs she arranged her hair before the
quaint, old fashioned mirror in the cham
Der to which the ladies' had been con.
Quoted. If he had only been reasonable,
how different things might be! She
walked to window which overlooked
the garden with its formal walks and
terraces, its borders of box and summer
houses of cedar. "IIc will change his
mind before tho month is out" she
thought, IA man cannot surrender all
the associations of his past and tho home
OF his fathers without struggle"
This consideration lost somo of its con.
soling force, however, when, a few min
utcs later, two people, walking slowly
and evidently talking earnestly, passed
down the vista of one of the garden al.
leys, and were lost to sight behind n tall,
clipped hedge. Even at that distance
there was no installing the figure and
bearing of Glare; neither was there an
other woman who walked with that free
stately grace in a riding habit whicl
Eleanor Milbournc possessed "If sh,
is engaged to Marston Brent lie nigh,
certainly put an end to such open nirta
tion us this" Mrs. Lancaster said betwccr
her teeth. "If he were not blind or n,at
he might see that she is so much in love
with Victor that she would go with hin
to Egypt tomorrow if lie asked her tt
do SO"
An old and sensible proverb will
which we are all acquainted says that it
is I'ever well to judge others by ourselves
anl if Mrs Lancaster had possessed tho
invisible cap of the prince in the fairy
tale, and had followed the pair who had
just passed out of sight, she would have
received an immediate proof of the truth
of this aphorism. They had paused in a
square near tho heart of the garden,
green, shaded spot, in the center of which
an empty basin bore witness to depart
cd fountain, though no pleasant murmur
of water had broken tho stiffness for
many long day. Round the margin of
this still ran seat on which Eleanor sat
down. Victor remained standing before
hor A lv,o h,,
pickering shadow over them, and the
tall hedges of evergreen which inclosed
the square made sombcr but effective
background.
"You sec that ruin and decay are al
that l have to offer you here" Victor
was saying with cadence Of bitterness.
in his voice. "But if you had courage
enough to bend the life which you dcspisc
to cut loose from all the ties which bint
you in America, and go with mo te
Egypt, there | might have a future anG
career for you to share-there at least
YOU would find freedom and action an(
life."
A flush came to Elcanor's check, and {
light cleaned suddenly in her eyes, as il
the very wildncss of this proposal lent il
fascination; but she shook her head
smiling little sadly. "You are of my
world" she said; "you ought to know
better than that. | am not so brave as
you think. must do what is expected
of me, and am expected to marry Mars
ton Brent"
Forget the world and come with me- y
THAT is impossible. If had only
myself to caro- for, | would; but there
are others of whom must think" She
was silent for moment, then looked up
at him pitcously. ",rhcy have sacrificed
SO much for me at home," she said, "and
they arc so proud of me. They hope,
desire, count on this marriage; l cannot
disappoint them. Mr.. Brent himself has
been most kind and patient. and he does
not expect very much. am a coward.
perhaps, but what can do!"
Again he said. "You can come with
me."
Again she answered. ut is impossible
DO you not see that it is impossible:
Starting forth on new career, it would
be insane for you to burden yourself
with wife. AS for me, am no more
fit to marry poor man than to he a
housemaid. Victor, it is hopeless. For
heavens sake, let us talk of it no longer!
The only thing we can do is to forget
that we have ever talked of it at all
"Will that be easy for you? confess
that nothing on earth could be harder
for me-"
"No, it will not be easy, but shall try
with all my strength to do it. God only
knows" putting her hand suddenly to
her face, show shall live if l am not
able to do it." Then passionately, "Why
did you speak? Why did you make the
misery greater by dragging it to the light,
SO that we could face it, talk of it, discuss
it? Oh why did you do it;"
because wanted to see if you wcrc
not made of braver stuff than other
women" said he, almost sternly. "In
my maddest hours l never dreamed OF
speaking, until-what you said last night
Thinking of that after came home,