Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-08-03
"NOBLESSE OBLIGE."
From Cassell's Family Magazine.
CHAPTER 1.


was engraved the motto, ''Noblesse Oblige."
1t was Doris twenty-first birthday and the
bracelet had come that morning. among the
numerous gifts that were making her dressing
table look rather like a stall at fancy fair.
"Shall 1 wear it?" she repeated, a little
doubtfully, and then her lips relaxed into a
smile. 'How extravaganza it was of him to buy
1t! but suppose the motto tempted him. 1
wonder if he remembered the night when we
we're all choosing notices and he and 1 both
fixed on that? 1 wonder
"Doris," said Lady Carew, now coming into
her daughters room, 'are you not ready?
There are carriages coming up the drive and
Sir Philip Chisholm has been here nearly half
an hour"
But that is his own fault if he chose to come
before the time" said Doris, with unanswer-
able logic.
She clasped the bracelet on her arm and fol-
lowed her mother down stairs and out into the
garden, where the freshly marked tennis courts
shone in the afternoon sun, and Sir Philip CHS
holm, tall, soldierly man, with iron-gray hair
and keen, bronZed face, was walking rather
disconsoately by Lord Carew's side.
Another man was there also, young lieuten-
ant, whose face frightened at the sight of
Doris and then relapsed into gravity born of
the fact that his regiment was under orders for
India and that this would be his last day at I'm
dercliff, or, indeed, in England.
1t Is permitted to man to look sad when
he is looking his last on England home
and beauty" and, though Wilfrid Lyle wore
brave-enough front all day. when at last
he found himself standing by Doris on the
verge of the cliff and gazing down on the sea
that was to bear him away from her tomorrow
GaU in Inn,
twilight was very grave and sad.
Doris herself was conscious of fighting
against similar feelings, but the conscious
ness only made her anxious not to betray
them.
Every one is going in now" she said sup-
gestively. looking toward the house.
Us that any reason why we should?' said
Mr.. LYLE quickly my last night, Doris;
and If we wait few moments the moon will
be up. l would like to see it rise once more,
with you"
The sea lay full in front of them. the water
looking dark and still in the evening light and
the waves breaking in soft little ripples on the
beach below. Overhead the sky was palely
blue, with stars family Pickering here and
there, but almost as he spoke it seemed to
widen and brighten and a streak of gold
cleaned on the waters edge
There it is, said Doris, under her breath;
"oh, Wilfrid. how lovely it isl When one sees
anything so beautiful as that doesn't it seem
as II all ones life must be nobler and better for
having seen it?'
Yes" assented Mr.. Lyle, in a tone of deep
conviction. But he was looking at Doris not at
the moon and sea-
III he had only been rich-as rich as Sir
Philip Chisholm, for instance, who had come
back from India with lac of rupees and X. G,
B.-what might he not have yentured to saw tn
her now? But what right had he to speak of
love to this proud young beauty, who could as
little mate with poor 'squire's son as if she
mad been princess of the realm? There was
some distant cousinship between them that
gave him the entree of the house'and the right
to call her Doris ;" but he told himself bitterly
that Lord Carew would as soon think of giving
Doris to his footman as to him
ana Doris! This was the question which
had been shaping itself on his lips all day, but
winch, 1t seemed to the penniless lieutenant,
honor forbade him to ask of Doris tonight
Doris, who had smiled on him he knew but
whose smiles were like the sunshine, and fell
equally on the evil and the good, or at least
upon Sir Philip Chisholm and himself
Ihere was, perhaps, not quite the equality he
imagined; but Wilfrid Lyle was humble in his
love; as all men are who love worthily and WELL
but humble as he was. and sternly as he had
told himself that it would be a base requital of
Lord Carew's hospitality to make love to the
young beauty who was destined for SO much
more brilliant match. Wilfrid LYLE felt his
resolution almost overthrow as Doris moved
her arm and the moonlight glittered on the
bracelet he had sent her that morning Would
she have chosen that of all others to wear to-
day If she had not liked him a little?
But that did not alter the fact that he had no
right to WOO her, and was not the legend on
the bracelet he had chosen for her '.Noblesse
oDlge! Would she never guess all that it
meant to him and all that he was to surrender
for it?'
He stood so long silent that Doris glanced
snyly at him, and then looked away as silent as
himself. Something in his face made it i'm
possible Tor her to speak.
She stood by him with half-ayerted face.
looking at the smooth summer waters and
listening TO their plash upon the beach. Sud-
denly he moved a little forward with a quick,
impatient gesture.
DO you know what should say tonight if
! were a rich man, or-or a cad?' he asked
abruptly, coming so close to her that their
shadows blended on the narrow pathway be-
hind them
Doris did not answer; what answer could she
make? She stood quite still, the color mount
ing IN her face and her heart beating till she
thought he must hear it as plainly as she did
herself. Her fingers plucked restiessy at the
flowers that lay against the slim white throat,
and he lay his hands on hers.
Don't" he said. "Give me one instead. It
is all ask, Doris; all dare ask before CO."
Doris hesitated, for the flowers were, as Mr.
Lyle knew well enough forget-me-nots, and
Doris Carew not a girl who gave flowers
for the asking least of all flowers like these
But at least she took and held ii shyly toward
him and the long fingers closed on hers.
There was a silence that seemed vocal to
both. and then Wilfrid loosed her hand with a
long drawn sigh.
'There is a motto,' he said, touching lightly
the golden circleton which the moonbeams
glittered cold and bright, ''that every gentle
man. however poor, may take for his own 1t
Is mine, Doris, though it means the surrender
OF all that could make life worth having I
cannot tell you what would tonight, for both
OF Us have duties, and the motto we both have
chosen is 'Noblesse oblige.'''
CHAPTER II.
1t is three years later and Doris Carew is
unweded STILL Lovers have come to her in
plenty-men who wooed her for her money and
men who wooed her for herself, but she has had
the same answer for them all. She does not
wish to marry, she says, or at least not yet
The words might seem to leave a loophole
for hope. but no one who hears the shy thrill
IN Miss Carew's voice, or sees her ewes when
she utters them, ever hopes again. They 90
away, one after another, and Doris does not
regret them. She is content, well content. she
tells herself, on one of the sweet summer even
ings that always bring Wilfrid to her mind.
as she sits on the branch of great tree that
grows conveniently low and looks straight be-
fore with her eyes that are wistful rather than
sad. And then she smiles ever so little and whis-
pers again, ''Well content-to wait %
She has come out to gather flowers, and the
size OF her basket bears witness to the magni-
tude Of her intentions, but the basket is emptv
and the flowers bloom ungathered at her feet.
She Is lost in thought, in musings that are not
without sweetness, but that give n nensivapas.