The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1889-10-04
FE'I'I'ERED BY Fate
A Thrilling Virginia Romance.
BY EMMA S. SOUTHWORTH.

CHAPTER XIII. Continued.

the face that was incloSed in the gold
frame and turned to the wall, and ho had
not recognized it, of course. His mind,
too, was upon other things, and he paid
little heed to the emotion Of tho young
girl save as it referred to him.
''Carol!'
She read much in the manner Of his
pronouncing her name. 1t had always
! sounded like music from his lips, for
love made him speak it as no other could !;
but now, besides reverence she could read
passion but half suppressed wild en-
treaty and Radeloss, deathless loYo in his
| voice.
Gone were all other thoughts.
She knew that perhaps the greatest
trial of her life was before her, and she
took a long, deep breath, as If she could
draw in with it inspiration and courage
! to do that which reason told her was
right, even when her heart cried out
against its bitterness.
He came step closer to her.
His arms wero held out, his pleading
eyes fixed upon her own with glance
that was almost fascination
How she longed to throw herself into
oAASoo S5A LID tbhu DC 1OlCtSI dU T0SU, DuU
she knew tull well guilt would never let
her rest, and, with heroism worthy of
the olden martyrs, she stilled her throb-
binS heart as best she could and held
| back.
| The temptation had just then been al
most beyond her endurance, but she had
| triumphed, and from this time on the VIC
tory was in her hands.
What did she believe of him, standing
there and looking him in the eyes?
Tho story Of Nora Warner, as told by
that unfortunate girl herself, must have
flashed into her mind like lightning, but
with her eyes upon Roger barrels hand
some, honest face, she was as suro that
he could do no wrong to any one willfulIy
as that she drew breath.
That Nora Warner was his vretched
wife she understood too well, for had he
not himself acknowledged the stain upon
his name? But that he had acted the
part of q villain toward her Carol could
| never believe.
Ever since hearing what Barbara Mer-
riles had to say she had doomed him in
nocent of any wrong, such was her love
and trust, and this it was that made her
believe in him through all
They had called Nora Warner mad,
Why should she not, therefore, imagine
even more wonderful and more terrible
things than those she had told to Carol?
She had seen demented peple before,
and knew their vagares that Oft
times they cursed tho hand that cared
for them, and reviled tho one who loved
and cherished them since childhood, as
Il she had been devil on earth instead
of an angel.
Wonderful, is it not, what things dart
through the mind in few seconds of
time?
Roger could bear the silence no longer.
| When he spoke his voice vibrated with
emotion, which he tried in vain to sup
press.
"Carol, my own love, for tho last time
como to you, suppliant. Pride has
given way before the love that floods my
| soul, and, unable to restrain tho words
that rush to my lips, speak on, it may
be to my doom. You may hate mo fol
thus tempting you, but God knows 1 do
not look at it in the same light you
do. The shame of the past is buried in
the madhouse. Why should this woman
come between US?
"Listen to me, dear Carol. 1 told you
once you were my first love, and tell
you the same now. No matter what
happens in the future, believe that, and
also that shall bo faithful to you until
death takes mo hence. Oh, my poor
darling, why were you cur ed with love
like mine, that soems to blight where it
falls; and yet God is my witness that if
l could aerve you by having my poor
body tortured, willingly would undergo
the infiiction. You believe me, do you
not, beloved?"
You know do, Roger. You know
that my heart is wholly yours, and ever
Will be, but once again tell you what
you ask can never be. There rests be-
tween us barrier as deep and unfathom-
able as the abyss through which the
river passes on its way to the sea-a bar
rier as high as the noblest peaks of the
mountains, and over which even love as
powerful as ours cannot reach. Nv
heart is breaking, Roger, but better that
1t should do so with love than shame and
disgrace"
"Shame and disgrace" he muttered.
repeating her words almost uncon-
sciously, and with Vague look upon his
face.
"Forgive me for saying it, dear, but 1
cannot ever be your wife while Nora
Warner lives. Her death can wipe out
the shame, nothing else. Until then wo
can be nothing to each other"
A light lea ped into his face that was
most wonderful to see. 1t seemed
transfgured, and the sadness of woe un-
utterable gave way TO the brightness of
hope and joy.
Carol" he said, huskily, "would you
be my wife if Nora Warner were dead, so
that her name would be all that was left
OF her? Would that, indeed, wipe out
the disgrace that has fallen upon the
name in your eyes?"
'Fo both of your questions 1 have but
one answer-yes Heaven knows how
willingly would JOIN my lot with yours,
to be with you always, in sickness or in
health; but while Nora Warner lives il is
impossible, Give up all thoughts of
such happiness, dear Roger, for it is be-
yond reach"
She pitied him the more since she had
seen that glad light leap into his ewes.
forshe felt sure that he was building up
false hopes.
"Not so far as you imagine, my dar-
ling, Even now it seems to me the skies