Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-09-07
DAN CUPID.

quished have flung their racquets to the winds
ana themselves into garden chairs, or else
prone upon the shaven lawn under the acacias,
according to their sex
Two OF them, however, have wandered rather
Tar from the acacias and the tea tables and the
tent, where better things than tea can be had
Tor the asking. They have wandered down to
the house boat on the river, shut ont from
noisy world by rows of beech trees. 1t is lit
tie dream OF place. entered by one opening
only, and that through the beeches.
"a sort of Arcadia. isn't it?'' says Mr.. Brooke,
gianclng up at his companion from his loung-
ing position upon the bench at her feet.
NO. says she. with little frown. She
makes charming picture standing here under
the awning next the old sun dial, with her hat
lying on the ground beside her and the CLINT
ing rays from the glowing heavens throwing
golden lights into her fine brown hair. Her
eyes are blue and just at this moment little
angry. The mouth, too, prone to laughter,
as a rule, has grown mutinous Half child.
half woman, she has not yet learned the moro
delicate shades of society's colors and lets her
thoughts lie openly upon her lovely face.
You are hard to please" says he. his eyes
on hers. As rule his eyes are seldom any
where else.
well, you are not returns she. promptly.
FROM afar the thrum, thruIn, thrum of q
banjo comes to them, breaking stiffness that
is dinlOSt oppressive.
That's the unkindest cut of air. SAYS Mr..
Brooke, placidly. Its rather a cut at Miss
Morland, too, isn't it? 1 presume you allude
To my engagement to her"
You presume very wrongly then. 1 was not
thinking OF Miss Morland. She ought to please
she Is rich, young, handsome"
erich; yes"
"And handsome" persistently.
rs she? Oh. yes; of course sne is. perfect
Juno! loo perfect Juno, perhapsl"
You shouldn't sheer at her." says the girl.
gravely.
Il know that. and that's why 1 do it," SAYS
he. 1T is difficult 20 resist temptation. and TO
do the wrong thing is always 50 pleasant" He
Is talking idly, scarcely knowing what he says.
his mind full of her. full of the knowledge that
he loves her-her only, and with all the passion
OF his nature, and that he is engaged to be mar
RED to another woman!
handsome woman the daughter end heiress
oil cotton merchant-what her own class would
call fine girl tall with light eyes and lighter
hair, and distinctly under bred. She had net
george Brooke some months ago at the house
of mutual friend, and, being filed with q
strong desire to rise out of her cotton surround
ngs, had given him very clearly to understand
that she WAS willing to accept him should he
choose to accept her fortune. which was enor-
nous, in exchange for the old title that must
come to him on the death of his uncle. Lord
Farnham. beggarly title-no penny of money
coming with 1T, as the uncle let the nephew
know as often as opportunity occurred. There
had been bad blood between Lord Farnham
and his second brother, George Brooke father,
and Farnham was not "a man to forget. He swore
he would visit the sin of the father upon the
son. and sooner than let his money 60 to the
young George he would leave it to hospital
As for the old name and the keeping up of it,,
let 1t go to the devil. Young George would in
herit that in spite of him, but 1T should prove O
barren honor to him.
George took no steps to assuage his uncles
wrath, but he thought good deal of the time
when he should be Lord Farnham. with only
$500 year to back his title He had shirked
the idea OF marrying for money, but when Miss
Moriand. with her undeniabe golden charms,
flung herself at his head he permitted himself
to argue the question with himself. Many a
fellow, he told himself, had done it before. 1t
was fair exchange. His title for her money!!
He Was heartwhole. He would not do her or
any other woman any wrong in marrying her.
He would think about it-he hesitated-and
finally was lost.
Miss Morland accepted him calmly. Was a
little vulgar over her money-let it be known
that she thought it pity that the present Lord
Farnham was in such remarkably robust health
for 80 old a man and said she would not like to
be married until the coming autumn. It was
then November. George, glad of a respite, did
not press for an earlier day. a circumstance the
heiress remembered. He bore up under his
new chains with a marvellous courage. He was
uot III IONo Win any one, so tney QlQ not gail
him. Then came day when both he and Miss
Morland were asked down to stay for a month
at the Shirleys, and there he met Dorothy
Dene.
A little slender maiden, with big gray eyes
and hair that rippled all over her white fore
head. rather Out-at-elbows little maiden,
whose best frock was muslin and whose only
ornaments were roses The Shirleys-a young
couple-adored her and would have her stay
with them as often as ever the old squire, her
father, would let her come to them. She had
been taken forcible possession of by them for
the month that saw George Brooke and his
fiancee herewith the most disastrous results.
George Brooke fell madly in love with her and
she loved him.
1t has gone SO far with them, indeed, that
though no word has yet been spoken each
knows the others heart, and sitting here today
in this little dangerously lonely retreat a sense
OF passionate protest against the fate that is
dividing them is thrilling through every tone
"We ought to go back" says Miss Dene
presently, in a rather changed tone. She had
been a little offended, perhaps, by the frivolity
of his answer.
'Oh! not yet, surely. We have been here 30
| short time and to get away from Shirleys
banjo, if only for minute or two, is SO intense
q relief"
ut is more than a minute or two," rising.
I'VE have been here an immense time. Agnes
Mrs. Shirley will be wondering what has be-
some OF us-so," regarding him steadily, twill
Miss Morland"
"Let her wonder! Besides, she has forgotten
us by this time in the delight of Lord Totem
hams society. wonder what she sees in that
old fossil! For my part I'm always thinking
when with him Of what don't see-hair, teeth,
etc."
''She is very kind to him-poor old man."
"And amiability is her strong point. How
many charms have you discovered in her of
late?''
II don't think you ought to speak Of her like
that" says the girl, turning upon him with q lit
tie flash in her lovely eyes. "You shouldn't crit
icise her."
why not? certainly shan't be able to
criticise her next month, so may as well
make the most of my time now. Next MONTH
slowly and almost defiantly-"I shall be the
blest proprietor of Mrs. Brooke, and it is not
permissible to criticise ones own wife, what
ever you may do with regard to your friends. "
He has spoken deliberately and with seeming
| unconcern, though in truth his heart Is torn in
| two by very passion of despair and regret.
They are both standing, but she has turned
| sharply aside and has SO placed herself that he
cannot see her face. He had meant to provoke
some word from her and her silence maddens
him.
.'what are you thinking of" asks he ,angrily,
going up to her and compelling her to return
his gaze.
She has grown very pale, but she meets his
| eyes without finching.
Nothing" says she, in tone ont Of which
all her courage cannot keep the sound Of DESC
lation.
"a woman's answer; know what you were