The morning news., 1889-03-03
CHAPTER XI.

contemptuous pity, in an upper room under
the same roof young man was also think
ing of him, with heart full of jealous rage
and passionate despair. This was young
Arthur Beaton, on whom the news of
Frances Forth's engagement had fallen as a
crushing blow, which seemed to make his
life uncomfortable, and turn everything to
gall.
In the prime of his opening manhood, and
of an ardent, romantic, enthusiastic nature,
he had met this beautiful woman, and she
had smiled on him, and soon famed his
eager admiration into love. She was but
amusing herself, though she liked the hand
some boy but he was giving all the strong
feelings Of his heart to one who counted
them of little worth.
At first he would not believe the news
which Col. Forth was spreading with such
pride and satisfaction. In little place like
Headfort, where Col. Kenyon was so we'll
known, his proposed marriage was naturally
greatly talked of. Miss Fo tn was consid-
cred to have made, or rather to be about to
make. very good match, and was respected
accordingly. Beaton was told of the en-
gagement twice on the day after 1t oc-
curre4-the day after Frances had met him
bv appointment III High street in the morn
ing, d he could not. would not, believe it to
be true.
He wandered about restlessly all the next
day. and at last made up his mind to call on
Frances, and so set bis mind at rest. He did
this, but she was either not at home or pre-
terded she was rot Then he wrote to her.
telhag her that such rumor had reached
his ears and asking her in very tender
words to contradict it. To this letter
Frances unknown to RUTH sent the follow
ing characteristic reply:
DEAR Mr.. BEAToN Tor shall / sly dear
Arthur)a- was sorry to miss ycu whe1
you called to-day, for | wished to tell you
something. Do you remember my telling
NCu the last time | Sa You that 1t Is well
to be rich, for then you can please yourself,
but that Whe2 YOU are poor you are obliged
{ sow 10 circumstances! | am uufortl-
natoly Oae If the poor ones, and | have very
lit G, or Choice given me. Yes, it IS true,
[ am >: gagoI to Col. Kenyon, Who, as You
Ano .,, is al oG friend of my fathers: but
hone TINS viii make no difference III our
tIcnGsilu Tor believe me, l should greve
very much if II did | shall tell you more
&, hen | see YOU. and | viii write you line
when | can ma age this. Just at present
have goJ my h hinds full, but do not think
YOU are forgotten; | can assure You chat
can never be- Always very siGcarely yours,
FRANCES FORTH"
Il was this letter which had nearly mad
dcned the young man, x made all his lite
dark ard bitter to him. He uaG biga and
ceLer US instinct, and it stabbed him TO the
lie IL tnat the woman he love- so a,sion-
atety should thus degrade herself. Frances,
ot course. meant to coavey to rim tnat she
was mari ying Col. Kenyon meTely for his
IN, n9y. This seemed to young Beaton the
V lest act: and that she e-she whom he had
Sr,1NIF
Ship-could thus sell herself like she coarsest
of her sex, cut him to the soul.
Mai. Audley and Seaforth beth noticed
aud guessed the cause Of the black cloud on
th ir vouag comrades brow; but Seaforlh
at least did rot guess the dark purpoS9 he
nourished in bis heart. He had dined at
mes and drank a great deal more than he
usual y did, and the wine loosed his tongue.
He spoke ecklessly and bitterly, and more
than oncs Maj. Audley had fixed his eyes on
the excited, handsome face, and knew that
the passion which ''is cruel as the grave"
was ating into his soul.
After mess was over he went to his own
room and sat down gloOmlly, to read and
read again the letter which be had received
by t e mornings post from Frances Forth.
He was young man OF good family,
though the modest portion OF younger
son was all his heritage. His father, Sir
brother, Sir Robert Beaton, now
reigned in his stead. Arthur was
the second son, aud there were be-
SIDES two younger boys. Lady Beaton
still lived and the wretched young man re-
II smbered his mother Inore than once, as no
sat there and thought Of his wrecked hopes
and wasted love.
Then he drew out a portrait which
Frances had given him; portrait of fair
woman in her lovely prime, with a smile
cleaning archly and cOquettishly in the
large bright eyes and lingering round the
rosy lips He looked at this long and dark
", and then flung it passionately on the
floor, only, however, the next moment to
raise 1t again, and crush it against his lips.
There was burning pain in his heart, a
fiery physical pain, brought on by the
fierce tumult surging in his being; and as
he kissed the pictured face his eyes grew
dim.
Il cannot bear it," he muttered, ''it is
worse than DEATH"
Then ne began thinking how he should
end 1t. One sharp pang was surely nothing
10 TINS. de had new revolver that his
brother Sir Ro5ert had given him, and he
got up and loaded this, and laid it on the
table beside him. Strange thoughts came
INTO his brain, and his temples throbbed and
beat, and the blue veins swslpd. He had
gloomy eyes at Frances portrait, he men
tally drew pictures of her future life, of the
gray-halred man by her side, and the false
mood OF her daily words
TWAS horrible to hun to think thus, yet
ne could not drag his thoughts away. They
pursued, haunted and maddened him, with
hideous distinctness. And he saw her again
IN ms minds eye, as he had seen Ter the day
of the garden party at Sudley Park, sttin 6
under the spreading branches OF the great
Tee, with her chestnut hair resting against
Ine gnarled trunk. and smiling down on
Kenyon first, and then on him.
And this was to be her home-she would
M e,t mere again, under the green hutter Of
1i 1ne leaves, with her husband beside her !!
me poor boy groaned aloud in his anguish,
tnu dashed his hand against his burning
prov. He was too young to realize that in
,sllne tnls bitter pain would cease; that this
loVe OF his so strong, so deep, had yet m its
very nature the seeds Of change. He loved
FRANCES Forth for what would pass away,
ana ana so surely would his love. But he
tsn1ought not thus; her fatal beauty blinded
Iilh, and his fierce despairing jealousy mad
uened and bewlldered his brain.
=. resently he began to write few words
VI farewell to her; telling her she had made
nlS ne TOO miserable to endure; upbralding
her with the false wiles aud smiles with
winch she had lured him on. Oh foolish
words--when passion is dead and cold, does
u not seem impossible to the writer TO be-
heve that bis or her hand ever wrote
themf We're we so mad! we ask ourselves
Wpf .I,slI .