The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1890-12-12
" NOBLESSE OBLIGE."
lCONIINUED.l

sMS Graves; his vague un 1ee thus
k$l&S suddenly assuming defined shape.
Pardon me- but WHY do you want that?"
because be is gone" she answered. "and
and with half-choked sob he has de-
serted metz
Deserted your" lie calculated. his own
face now turning very pale. What do you
mean? For heavens sake, explainl'
Her only answer was to cover her face
with her hands and burst into torrent of
sobs. But by and by the truth came out in
broken. fearful fragments. Il was the old
story. The handsome young soldier had
fallen in love with her rare beauty and
wooed her, and won her promise to marry
him. But his love. 'too hot and strong"
had "soon burned to waste" He had rap
idly tired OF her. and finally left her
Il knew" she concluded, tearfully, that
he was Obliged to so away fIom here 10 re-
join his regiment, but never thought-oh, l
never thought-that he meant to cast me of.
until l received this cruel. cruel letter from
him this morning.
As she spoke, she drew sheet of paper
from the bosom of her dress and handed it
to the squire to read.
He quickly mastered lis contents, for they
were very short, comprising but a few lines
school-mistress forget ali about him and all
that had been between them. since 1t was
quite impossible that he could ever marry
Ter. The letter was dated from London, but
bore no more definite address.
As the tale of his brothers treache ry was
thus unfolded to him, the squire's agitation
was scarcely less than that of the unhappy
woman. Indeed, to a man SO honorable,
pure and true as he was, the revelation must
have caused painful shock, more espe-
brother of which the schoolmistress was
plainly ignorant, and the know ledge OF
which would very much aggrayate her
misery. From revealing this fact to her
Arthur Graves ShTank with the Senstiveness
of one who hates TO cause fellow creature
pain. Yet he must tell her. Duty enjoined
it. Besides, it were no real mercy to keep
Ler in ignorance.
''You wish for my brothers address," he
began, in low, panied voice, which would
culver in spite Of himself, " in order that
MAY write to him." she interrupted.
with passionate energy. appeal to any
generous feeling that he may possess, inn
plore him to carry, out his piighted promise
and to marry mel!
The squire put his hand to his throbbing
forehead ana replied-heaven alone could
tell how it panied him to utter the words:
Miss kinglake, the truth will seem cruel,
very, cruel, to you; but to keep it back
impossible for my brother TO marry you,
since he is-married already"
''What?" she cried, wildly, gazing at him
with stupefed wonder, as il she had not
grasped the full import of his words
at is too true" he continued sadly; "for.
though my brother has ceased to live with
his wife, he is no less bound to her in the
ties of wedIock. Thus, even il he would,
he cannot-
Before he could finish his sentence the
toDtpsa pirl having fully rPali7n1 tho
full meaning of his words, uttered low
vail of misery. and staggered suddenly for
ward. He caught Ter fainting form just in
time to save her from falling to the floor.
She had evidently swooned away, for she
hung dead weight upon his arm, her eyes
closed, and her face white TO the lips. Aud
it was the sources first thought to call in
his hoasekeepers assistance. But it. oc-
Cured to him that If the matter once reached
the servants ears ii would spread like wild
FIRE through the parish; therefore, he found
il his truest kindness to lay her upon the
sofa, and quietly wait till She regained con-
sciousness. This he accordingly did, tanning
her motionless face with a newspaper. In
few miuuteS-sooner than he had eX-
pected-she came to herself, sitting up and
locking round her in daZed sort OF manner,
as if she did not realize where she was or
what had happened Then, as full con-
seriousness returned, she gave little snud-
der, and, burying her tace in her hands,
noGned out:
What will happen to ne? What will
people say and think? They have seen me
out with-with-him several times; and |
know that they are talking of nothing else,
and casting vile and shameful imputations
upon me; one or two, more spiteful than
the rest, have tainted me with my conduct
TO my face! And when l have answered
with burning indignation that he-your
brother-had no intentions but those of
honorable marriage, which he had already
promised ME, they have scoffed incredu-
lousy. How, then, will their cruel doubts
find confirmation now? Not soul will be-
lieve me innocent. And to a helpless girl
in my position loss Of character, however
undeseTyed, means blank and irremediable
ruin.
The squire heard her piteous words with
an expression of the deepest pain. Evil
IDENTIFY they cut him TO the heart. For,
though he was not really to blame for VIVA,
had happened, aud could not be held re-
sponsible for his brothers rer6dy, still the
fact that the culprit was one OF his own flesh
and blood, as well as that he had first
brought Marshall and Miss Kinglake to-
gether, must have made his sensitive scru-
pulous heart feel that the disgrace of the
affair, il not the guilt, was strongly reflected
upon himself.
Miss Kinglake,' he said. in a low, hur-
ried voice. II must have some time to think
over wha. you have told me- So you had
better row return quietly home / will call
upon you tomorrow morning, when, after
due reflection. We must see what can be
done"
Then you will help me, sir?" she en-
treated, piteously.
God knows" he replied, empbatically,
''that whatever help / can afford you shall
be given"
She mu;tered few scarcely audible words
OF thanks, then took her departure, leaving
Arthur Graves to his own reflections
All that night he never went to bed. IN
deed, had he done so it would have been
futile, Tor the thoughts of bis heart would
not let him sleep. Most of the time be sat
IN his armchair, with his head bowed and
his forehead resting on his hands, But now
and then lie would rise and pace the room,
muttering incoherently TO himself as he did
so. 1t was evident that great struggle was
going on within him. Doubtless he was try
ing to find an answer to the overwhelming
question: How was reparation to be made?
How was the right 10 be done?
Next morning, after he had refreshed
himself with cold bath and gone through
the form of breakfast, he started off on his
was Saturday, and there was no school upon
that day. AS hc walked thither, his face
wore the set, determined look of one who
has taken desperate resolve; while a
strange light-the light OF conscious pride
and triumph-flashed clear from his ewes.
Reaching Miss Kinglake's house, he Knocked
1t the door. She at once admitted him, and
ushered him into her inner parlor Poor
girl! She evidently, too, had passed Sleep
less night, and the glare of daylight, falling
on her face, revealed piteous, haggard ex.
preston of misery which must have gone to
the hearts of any but the hardest. Her
Quiyering lips moved as if to speak, but She
could not articulate word. So the squire
began: From what you told nie last
night, Miss Kinglake. my brothers periidy
has placed you in terrible position-has
caused you, though absolutely innocent of
wrong, to forfeit your character in the ewes
of the village. Knowing how cruel people
are in their judgment uron others-how in-
credulous of virtue, especially in beautiful
girl, fear that the consequences of this I'M
deserved stigma will be no less fatal 10 you
than you said. But-but-there is one way
of saving yourself-will you promise to en-
brace it?"
"oh. most thankfullyv' she cried, clasp
ing her hands. "For l know you are kind