The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1889-04-18

Rlene Ill her room, she found the mi
tress of the house in tears.
.'Riene! what is the matter? Can
do anything for you?"
Then. as Riene still sobbed on. Mau
drew her into her arms.
My darling friend, tell me wins
troubles you? Can you not trust me?
Thus appealed to, Riene. with he
face hidden from her friends anxior
eyes. opened her heart
''Oh, Maudm she said; 81 am so Ill
happy! have tried to be gay. and I
hide my feeling; but cannot do it an
longer"
"Riene, softly Interrupted Maud, 81
1t anything about Mr.. Devon?"
Then, at last, as Riene spoke. Mau
understood all that had seemed mys
terious to her.
ut all happened five years ago
said RIene, "when l was here as Lady
Harrington's companion, just aitel
your father had taken you s.Ur Dad, anG
we parted for the first time. YoI
know | was mere child-onlv six
teen-and after you had gone, and
was left with no one to whom to turn
for comfort when Lady Harrington.
irritability became too unbearable. il
seemed to me as if no longer wanted
to live. Just at that time a young
artist came into the neighbOrhOOd. He
was introduced to Lady Harrington,
and she allowed him the privilege OF
| sketching in the park whenever he
chose. We met, and he appeared IL
enjoy my society. while-oh, Maud
l soon grew to think him everything
good and noble.
after while, Lady Harrington
| noticed his attentions to me, and
sternly forbade our further intercourse.
telling me that for my own peace OF
mind | must cease to think of him, as
he was only flirting with me; for, be-
ing the heir of an aristocratic family, he
would never dare offend his people by
wedding with one so beneath him in
station.
''She did it out of kindness. | see it
now, though | did not then. My lover
(for that he had grown to be) set his
influence against her commands, and
persuaded me at last to write to him.
lone day, after tiree weeks had
passed, and we had not seen each other.
i'll the old elm tree, which we made
our post-Office, | found letter, longer
than usual. containing an offer of mar
riage, and telling me that he had just
passed his twenty-lirst birthday, ard
therefore was his own master He
begged me not to keep him in sus-
pense. but if truly loved him to reply
at once. and he would come for my
answer in the morning.
''Oh. Maud, | was but young, and l
hal in 7
myself now when | think Of it-I
dropped tiny note in the old elm
tree. and in it | answered. Yes That
was the last | ever heard from my
false loves. The following week I
learned that he had gone abroad. He
left no word for me; and too late 1
realized that Lady Harrington was
right. He had only been Willing away
his idle hours with Il Irritation"
Riene broke off with sob.
at is five years ago, Maud and l
thought that my love was dead. and
only desire for revenge left in its
place; but | was mistaken. Every tone
of his voice thrills me just as of old.
But it is too late now to go back. He
must never know that | still care for
him."
1t was plainly evident to Maud, as
the days went by, that if Riene still
wanted her revenge she had only to
take it, as it was easy to see that Stan
ley Devon was desperately in love with
his beautiful hostess.
Riene herself could not out read the
deep admiration with which his eyes
followed her every notion; but she had
been deceived once, aud she did not
now believe in the sincerity of the man
she had once deemed everything noble.
At length the day previous to the
one on which Mr.. Gresham and his
friend were to take their departure
arrived.
''What shall we do this last morn
ing?" gaily enquired Riene.
Stanley Devon looked up quickly.
LET us have luncheon-party in
the park beneath the great elm," he
said.
If he expected to see Riene change
appointed; for, with a merry. THAT
will be just the thingw she seized up
on the idea at once.
When their rustic repast was ended,
Carl Gresham sauntered over to the
great elm tree, beneath whose spread
ing branches their improvised table
had been laid, with this enquiry:
''Miss Harrington, isn't this tree hol-
low? | remember a story of knight
who once was accused of treason, and
when officers were sent to arrest him,
concealed himself here until the pur-
suit was over. Afterwards he sue
ceeded in making his escape from the
country. But what is this?"
As he spoke, he held up to their view
a yellow, weather-stained envelope
which he had drawn forth from the
hollow.
II verify believe Sir Knight must
have dropped his last letter from his
'lady-love' in his haste. It's lady's
writing. Hello! it belongs to you,
Devon. How did one of your letters
get here?"
Then Devon took it and looked al
the superscription, then, with swift
glance towards Riene, he opened it.
Riene well knew whose hand had
penned the lines he was reading; and
as she stood. flushing and paling by
turns. a great Joy thrilled her heart
Her lover had been worthy, after all
He had never received the. letter, and
while she had thought him false, he
had only been seeking forgetfulness.
Stanley read through the short note,
dated five years back; then, with glad
light irradiating his handsome face
regardless of the lookers-On. lie rushed
forward and held out his arms, ant
cried:
.'Riene! l see it all. We both hav.
been the victims of cruel mischance"
He eagerly advanced as he spoke
and cOmprehending the situation
Maud drew her wondering brother
away with her, and the lovers wer'
left alone.
All was soon explained; and the ole
elm which had caused so much mis-
chief, but which had now made amends
waved benignant blessing over thu
two young heads, bent so lovingly to
gether beneath its broad shadow.
Not a great while after there was I
wedding at Harrington Hall; aud Car
and Maud Gresham had tile pleasure
of officiating as groomsman.and brides
maid while their friend Riene, NOR
radiant than ever in her bridal satil
and pearls, gave her heart and han'
b, into Stanley Devon's keeping.