Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-02-16

A
IsIlzaoeth Watching the Game.
probability of such a thing. Also, it must
be understood that you are not to speak to
my father about this matter, or to trouble
me in any way. Do you consent?"
Yes" he answered, II consent You
have me at your mercy"
every we'll And now, Mr.. Davies, good
by No, do not walk back with me. had
rather 20 by myself But want to say this,
1 am very sorry for what has happened. I
have not wished it to happen. have never
encouraged it and my hands are clean OF it.
But am sorry, sorry beyond measure, and
I repeat what I said before-seek out some
other woman and marry her.
''That is the cruelest thing of all the cruel
things which you have said, he answered.
"I did not mean it to be cruel, Mr.. Davies,
but suppose that the truth often is. And
now goodby," and Beatrice stretched out
her hand.
He touched it, and she turned and went
But Owen did not go. He sat upon the
rock, his head bowed in misery. He had
staked all his hopes on this woman. She
was the one desirable thing to him, the one
star in his somewhat leaden sky, and now
that star was eclipsed. Her words were un-
equivocal, they gave but little hope.
Beatrice was scarcely a woman to turn
round in six months or year. On the con-
trary, there was a fxity about her which
frightened him. What could be the cause
of it? How came it that she should be so
ready to reject him, and all he had to offer
her? After all, she was a girl in small
position. She could not be looking forward
to better match. Nor would the prospect
move her one way or another. There must
l. IL
surely that must be the cause. Some enemy
had done this. But who?
AT this moment q womsn's shadow fell
athwart him.
"Oh, have you come back?" he cried,
springing to his feet.
"If you mean Beatrice" answered voice
it was Elizabeth's-"she went down the
beach 10 minutes ago. happened to be on
the cliff, and saw her"
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Granger"
he said family. 81 did not see who it wa" !"
Elizabeth sat down upon the rock where
her sister had sat, and, seeing the little
holes in the beach, began indolently to clear
them of the sand which Beatrice had swept
over them with her foot. This was no diff
cult matter, for the holes were deeply dug,
and it was easy to trace their position.
Presently they were nearly all clear-that
is, the letters were legible.
''You have had q talk with Beatrice, Mr..
Davies?"
"Yes," he answered alphabetically.
Elizabeth paused. Then she took her bull
by the horns.
''Are you going to marry Beatrice, Mr..
Davies?" she asked.
81 don't know" he answered, slowly and
without surprise. 1t seemed natural to him
that his own central thought should be pres
ent in her mind. 81 love her dearly, and
want to marry her,"
''She refused you then2"
"Yes."
Elizabeth breathed more freely.
But can ask her again"
Elizabeth frowned. Whatcould this mean9
It was not an absolute refusal. Beatrice was
playing some game of her own.
why did she put you of, Mr.. Davies7
Do not think me inquisitiYe. 1 only ask
because I may be able to help YOU"
81 know: you are very kind. Help me,
and 1 shall always be grateful to you. do
not knOw-I almost think that there must
be somebody else, only l don't know who it
can be-"
"Ah," said Elizabeth, who had been gaE-
ing intently at the little holes in the beach,
which she had now cleared of the sand.
"Of course that is possible. She is Curl
Gus girl, Beatrice is. What are those let
tiers, Mr.. Davies?"
He looked at them idly. Something
your sister was writing while 1 talked to
her. remember seeing her doing it."
"G-e-o-f-r-e-why, it must be meant for
Geofrey. Yes, of course it is possible that
there is somebody else, Mr.. Davies. Geof-
freyl-how curiousP'
"Why is it curious, Miss Granger. Who
is Geoffrey?''
Elizabeth laughed disagreeable little
laugh, that somehow attracted Ovens at
tention more than her words.
How should know? 1t must be some
friend of Beatrice's, and one of whom she is
thinking good deal, or she would not write
his name unconsciously. The only Geof-
frey that know is Mr.. Geofrey Bingham,
the barrister, who is staying at the vicarage,
and whose life Beatrice saved" She paused
to watch her companions face, and saw
new idea creep across its stolidity. "But,
of course" she went on, sft cannot be Mr..
Bingham that she was thinking OF, because
you see ne is married. >"
Married." be said, "yes. but he's man
for all that, and very handsome one."
Eyes, should call him Handsome fine
man, Elizabeth answered critically. .tBut.
as Beatrice said the other day, the great
charm about him is his talk and power of
mind. he is very remarkable man, and
the world will hear of him before he has
done. But, however, all this is neither here
nor three. Beatrice is curious woman and
has strange ideas, but am sure that she
would never carry on with a married man."
But he might carry on with her, Miss
Elizabeth"
She laughed. "Do you really think that
man like Mr.. Bingham would try to hirt
with girls without encouragement? Men
like that are as proud as women, and
prouder; the lady must always be a step
ahead. But what is the good of talking
about such q thing? It is all nonsense.
Beatrice must have been thinking of some
other Geofrey, or it was an accident or some
thing. Why, Mr.. Davies, if you for one
moment really believed that dear Beatrice
could be guilty Of such shameless thing as
to carry on a filtration with married man,
would you have asked her to marry you?
Would you still think of asking anch q