Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-02-23


has devoted herself increasingly since the
news was brought to her at Greystoke thai
nevermore would her eyes be gladdened
with the vision of her husbands manly
form. A second marriage seems in her eyes
something like a sacrilege.
And yet, as she sits in the oak-paneled
library on this hot July afternoon, she is
seriously considering whether the fates are
not likely to prove too strong for her.
All her lovers who have crossed her'path
and met with a rebuff have gone their way
! and troubled her no more-all, except one.
| He has meekly heard her denials Oor he
has sought her more than once) and gone
away, only to renew his suit again and
again, until she is beginning to feel that his
very persistence must wear down her disin-
clination to enter into new alliance. She
even owns to herself, in spite of the resolute
refusals with which she has hitherto met his
overtures, that the patience with which he
has carried himself since he entered the lists
against her resolution has touched her
heart more deeply than she had imagined,
until the letter which now lies upon her lap
came to inform her that the persistent swain
would call that afternoon for her final an
swer. There was tone of patient suffering,
as it appeared to her, in his pleading that
stirred her breast with gentle pity.
He will be here soon, for the timepiece is
already pointing to the hour named in his
note, and as yet she has not made up her
mind how she will answer him. For the
first time she is conscious of disposition to
hesitate. 1t is not love that produces this
faltering. She has no love to give-abso-
lutely none. She is quitesure of that The
image of her dead husband is still as fresh
ha,- haa fVoxv uhnn O
drew from her the confession of her maiden
love, and so far as power to return to an
other mans affection is concerned she knows
she has it not. Here is one of those natures
which can know no second love.
But her life has been so entirely given
up to serving others that she finds herself
asking whether there is no call here to re-
ward faithful lover with what he so much
desires, although her surrender to his wishes
will be fraught with pain to herself I'm
like the others who accepted her refusal and
rode away and troubled her no more, this
lover still clings to hope; and his persist
ency is beginning to tell upon her. But
she is as far as ever from reaching decis-
ion when the door is opened, and the staid
manservant announces visitor.
"Mr. Bretterly, my lady"
The room was darkened by the heavy sun
blinds outside the window, or the pretty
blush of confusion with which the sudden
announcement of Mr.. Bretterly's name
dyed the lovely face of Lady Barbara would
not have passed unnoticed by the lover. But
entering the darkened room from the daz-
zling sunlight outside Mr.. Bretterly's eyes,
keen though they were, had not time to ac-
commodate themselves to the change before
Lady Barbara recovered her usually tran
quill expression.
She rose from her seat with quiet grace,
and stretched out her beautiful white hand
in friendly greeting Mr.. Bretterly seized
the opportunity to imprint kiss on the
hand of the lovely chatelaine, not so much
with the fervor of the lover as with that
reverential knightly courtesy which was the
fashion in by-gone time.
But as the Lady Barbara felt the warm
pressure of his lips the crimson tide rushed
over her face and neck, and this time Mr..
Bretterly saw the telI-tale signal, though he
mistook its meaning. For accepting this
display of emotion as indicative that his
love had at last triumphed over obstacles,
he retained her hand and attempted to place
his arm round her waist, making as though
he would kiss her lips. But the Lady Bar
bara drew back with an indignant gesture,
which compelled him to release her hand,
and assuming her most commanding pose
she remarked, in freezing tone:
II have rot given you the right to do
that, Mr.. Bretterly."
81 beg your pardon" Mr.. Bretterly re-
piled, with an apologetic bow; 81 am really
sorry. Pray forgive the misguided impulse
of an affection which is as respectful as it
as of long endurance-too respectful will
ingly to offend you, or give you pain"
"Please take seat" said Lady Barbara.
with an inclination of her head in accept
anee of the apology, and as she set him the
example by seating herself in low chair,
Mr. Bretterly threw himself at her feet, and
with an impassioned glance from his eyes,
he cried:
"Let me sit here and wait the sentence
from YOUR lips that will raise me to the
giddiest height ofjoy or plunge me into the
blackest despair" .,-...
Then, availing himself of pause. in
which Lady Barbara was laboring to col
lect her thoughts, he poured forth flood of
passionate pleading which she did not seem
to have heard. The words were heard, how
ever, by third person who stood before the
French window unperceived by them, and
who remained an interested spectator of the
scene.
Mr.. Bretterly, interpreting Lady Barba-
ra's silence favorably, began a fresh stream
of fervid talk, but ceased when she turned
her grave eyes toward him, and made as
though she would speak.
''Your letter has given me great pain and
distress, Mr.. Bretterly,' she began. ST
thought our last conversation on this SUBJ
ject had laid the matter at rest forever"
"Not forever!" Mr.. Bretterly said, with
emphasis. "Do not say forever, dearest
Lady Barbara. Give me some hope-a ray
of hope, at least"
Eyes. forever. I must repeat it. 1 in
tended my answer to be final. 1 tried to
make it so, and now I do not know what
can say, more than has already been said.
1t is useless for you to hope that can ever
be more to you than I am now. I am re-
solved not to marry, and were 1 to allow
myself to be persuaded to take such a step
against my better judgment, it would be
without affection"
mot without Affection" cried Mr.. Bret
terly. 81 love you, ay! more than man ever
loved woman. loved you before you
know Constam, and only waited the oppor-
tunity to speak. He came and took you
ly, passionately, if you will, I loved YOU
though 1 made no sign. You will do me
justice there, Lady Barbara; 1 made no
sign. 1t would have been an insult to you.
But loved you through it all. My God |
how my passion burned! And then came
your sorrow. Forgive me if 1 looked be-
yond it and saw hope. And through these
seven long years have loved and waited. |
Pity me, and love me if you can little. |
will be satisfied with such very little"
Lady Barbara shook her head sadly, her |!
heart more profoundly touched than ever at |
the evident earnestness of the man and the |
long enduring pain Of an unrequited affec-
tion.