The Dickinson press. (Dickinson, Stark County, D.T. [i.e. N.D.]) 1883-1927, 1889-09-07
desire, but cannot tell yet. Grant me
|

urged, not without reason. "You said
when l went abroad that you were not
sure enough of your heart to accept me
then, but that you would give me final
answer when l returned. You had all
the months of my absence to consider
what this answer should be, and when
came for it, spending not so much as an
hour in tarrying on the road, found
that it was not ready for me-that had
yet longer to wait. Eleanor, is this kind?
is it even just?'
"It is neither" said Eleanor, turning
to him with strange depreciation on her
fair proud face II know that you have
been everything that is patient and gen.
erous, and l am sorry-oh, am more
than sorry-to have seemed to trile with
you; but what can lido? Remember that
when l decide, it is for my whole life.
You cannot doubt that will hold fast to
my promise when it is once given"
IL do not doubt it, and therefore de-
sire that promise above all things"
"But you would not desire the letter
without the spirit" said she eagerly II
dare not bind myself dare not-until
am certain of myself"
"But, good hcavcns!" said Marston
Brent, who, although usually tho most
quiet and dignified of human beings
was now fairly driven to vehemence,
"when do you mean to be certain of
yourself? Surely you have had time
enough. Can you not love me, Flea
nor?" he asked little wistfully. "If that
is tiff that is the doubt that holds you
back-say SO and let me 60 Anything
is better than suspense like this"
But Eleanor was plainly not ready to
say that. She stood still for moment
then turned to him with sudden light
Of resolve in her eyes. "You are right, s.
she said. This must end. may be
weak and foolish, but have no right to
make you suffer for my weakness and
my folly. Lpledgo myself to tell you to-
morrow night whether or not can be
your wife. You will give me till then,
will you not? 1t is the last delay shall
'Iwish you would understand that you
could not ask anything which should
not be glad to grant, said he. a little
sadly. "For heavens sake, do not think
of me as your persecutor-do nc force
yourself to answer inc at any given time.
can wait.
"You have waited" said sho CRATE
waited too long already. Do not
encourage me in my weakness. Believe
that will tell you tomorrow night my
final decision"
Later in the evening, Victor Clare was
leaving the drawing room as Miss Mil
bourne entered it. They came face to
face rather unexpectedly, and while the
gentleman fell back tho lady extended
her hand
"IIave you stayed away SO long that
you have forgotten your friends Mai
ClareS" she said with smile which
was bright but rather trcmulous, like a
CLEAN of sunshine on rippling water
"You have not even said good evening
to me, and yet you have an air as if you
had said good night to tho rest of tho
company"
$50 have" answered Victor, smiling
in turn, partly from tho pleasure of
meeting her, partly from the sheer mag
netism Of her glance, "but it is no fault
of mine that have not been able to
speak to you: I have found no oppor.
tunity."
"But thought you always said that
people made opportunities when they de-
sired to do SOP
"Then the time has como for mo to re-
tract my assertion. AS general rule a
man cannot make opportunities. he can
only take advantage Of them when they
come, us hope to take advantage of the
present" he added, smiling.
"But thought you were going homer
II was going homo minute ago, but
so long as you will let me talk to you
shall stay"
ut is very small favor to grant" said
Eleanor, blushing little. "But why
were you leaving so early?"
"Partly because had no hope of see
ing you; partly because am not young
duke to pencil a line to my steward and
know that princely collation. will be
served at noon tomorrow for half hun
dred, or even for dozen or two people. =
"What do you mean!" she asked, for
though she caught the allusion to Dis
raeli's rose colorcd romance. the applica
ton puzzled her.
"Isee you have not heard of our gypsy
plan, he answered, ,and at once proceeded
to detail it.
She was not so much delighted as he
expected but a pretty, lucid CLEAN came
into her eyes at the mention of Claremont.
II shall be glad to see your home, 1" she
said quietly. 81 have heard SO much of
its beauty and its antiquity"
at is pretty and it is DID," said he,
''but it will not be mine much longer
am negotiating its sale now"
She started: "What! you were in earn
est, then? You are really going to Egypt?
"Yes, am going to Egypt. Why should
| stay? What has life to offer me here
save vegetation? There. at least, can
find action"
She looked at him with strange,
wistful expression which struck and
startled him. He felt as if prisoned
soul suddenly sprang up and gazcd at
him out of the clear blue depths of her
eyes. "Oh, what good thing it is to bo
a man." she said. "How free you are!
how able to do what you please and go
where you please-to seek action and to
hnd 1t! Oh, Maj. Clare, you ought to
thank God night and day that he did
not make you a woman!'
II am glad, certainly, that l am a
man" said Victor, honestly. "But you
are the last woman in the world from
whom should have expected to hear
such rebellious sentiments"
II am not rebellious," said Eleanor
| az UI.k =. ~ e
All the rebellion in the world could not
make me man; and have no fancy
to be an unsexed woman. But nobody
was ever more weary of conventional
routine, nobody ever longed more for
freedom and action than do"
1t was on the end of Victor's tongue
to say, "Then come with me to Egypt,
but he caught himself in time. Was he
mad to imagine that "the beautiful Miss
Milbourne"-a woman at whose feet the