The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1890-08-21
BY CHANCE.
CONTINUED


the worst. Something has, of course, oc-
Cured to prevent the lady you expected to
see from coming. Tomorrow she will
come, and she will explain"
"To-morrow she sails for New Zealand,
to which place she is to accompany her
father and family. Tonight we were to
have said adleu to each other, and-she has
failed mel"
Freda had no words to offer this time for
consolation.
"If my Jack had so treated me-" thought
she, "how should bear it?"
Twenty minutes later, as she re-entered
her own door, she was astonished to ind
that her mother and sister had suddenly re-
turned home, and were awaiting her in the
hall. There were tears in the eyes OF both
as they embraced her in silence.
"Mother, dear, why have you and Agnes
come back? Oh! what is the matter?"
cried Freda, presaging in their sorrowful
looks misfortune.
''My own dear child" replied her mother,
sadly. II came home because l thought you
would need all the comfort could give"
"Then there is something the matter!'
interrupted the girl. mother, is Jack lip"
Not i'll, my darling; but he is I'M
worthy!"
"M0therw gasped Freda.
"He telegraphed the news to his father
and his father communicated with me. On,
my own dear child. it is dreadful for me to
tell and you to hear; but Jack is-marrled!'
Freda felt as If stunned.
Jack married. she faltered, the words
escaping her white lips inYountarily, ana
she tottered to seat.
'He has married an American girl with
thousands upon thousands OF dollars for her
fortune, and for geld he has bartered love.
Was | not right, to call him unworthy,
Freda? And he has the presumption to
say he thought it right to put aside his feel
ings however he might suffer, and that
your image will never Jade from his remem-
brance."
Mother oh, mother!' moaned Freda,
covering her face with her hands And
then she lost consciousness.
1t was many day before she was able to
raise her young head from her pillow and
to feel the sweet fresh spring wind blow
freely over her face. And when at length she
did so, it was not with quick and careless
step as Of old.
No; reclining in bath-chair, wearing
the air OF an invalid, the youthful Freda
once more went out on the shore.
Up and down the esplanade she was
wheeled. her gaze wandering llstleSSly over
the sunlit water and on the groups Of lott
erers on the sands; but when her eyes
rested on the Red Cliff flush mounted to
her pale brow, look of eager interest
came into her face, her thoughts flew to
the stranger whom she had encountered
there and she longed to know whether his
love was still an unhappy one, or if he had
followed the one he so wurshiped TO her
far-otf home IN the antipodes.
One day Ut was now the middle of ApriD
Freda was out earlier than usual, when
tall. handsome figure, walking down the
esplanade, passed her chair, and she flushed
with emotion MS she recognized the stranger
who had confessed TO her his unhappiness
at the foot of the Red Cliff.
The recognition was mutual-the emotion
| still deeper on his part than on hers.
For a whole week they met in this man
ner, he raising his hat to the lovely fragile
looking girl who passed bin day after day
in her invalid chair.
Although they only passed each other
thus on the crowded path each felt as if
they were old acquaintance at the end OF
the tenth day. Freda was now so much
stronger that her medical attendant said
| she might walk once day, and involuntarily
she turned her steps to the Red Cliff.
She had no thought of again encountering
the handsome stranger; it was not the
hour when he usually passed her chair.
| Her mother and sister had gone up to town
for the day; she had declined the maids
| company; she was alone with sea and sky.
Alone? No. Seated on ledge of rock,
| gazing seward, was the man whom she
! had met here SO many days ago; the stran-
| ger who had conided to her his unhappi-
| ness.
'Ah." said he, starting eagerly from his
recumbent position. his whole face bright
| ening with pleasure, "hOW fortunate am
| to meet you here again.
Frsda smiled family, then leaned for sup
port against a rock. She was still weak,
and had walked too far.
"You have been ill. / need not ask
that" pursued be, with respectful concern.
but are you better? Let me find seat
for you, where you can rest"
THANK you," said she, feebly. sinking
perforce upon the smooth, hard resting
place he indicated. She had not meant to
stop more than two moments, but at the
END of quarter of an hour she found her
self listening to the denouenent of that
story which she had so often longed TO hear.
/ His false love had been still more false
than he had decmed-for she had written
him that note contained within the purse
found by Freda on the sands-written it.
not ever intending to meet him
written it to lure him away. that she might
leave England without the chance OF endur-
ing his reproacheS; and he knew now,
through a friend, that she intended to
marry wealthy cousin settled in New
Zealand.
And Freda, listening with downcast look
and changing countenance-mentally COM
pairing her fate to his-weakened by illness
and by the force of her emotion, suddenly
burst into tears she could not restrain.
"Forgive me-" sine murmured, checking
her tears by a resolute effort of will. 81
too have suffered!
The very next day Freda, calling with
her mother at the house of an acquaint-
ance, found i'll their friends drawing-room
the gentleman whom she had metsaU the
| Red Cliff.
A formal introduction took place. Freda
learned that his name was Scott; and after
| this, on some pretext or other, he was con-
| tinually calling at Mrs. Melham's.
| us it you or Agnes he admires?" asked
| the latter, with smile.
"Oh. not L, mamma" cried Freda, with
| conviction in her tone, imagining that his
heart was still filled with regrets for his lost
love-
"Well, my dear, We shall not have much
| opportunity OF finding out, for lie Is leaving
this neighborhood tomorrow, our friend
tells me. He has some property in the
North which requires looking after. 1t
seems he came here only for his health"
Leaving the neighb0rbood tomorrow
| Freda'S heart seemed to cease beating.
Il suppose lie has never recovered his
attachment to girl who Tilted him in
very cruel manner, and Immediately after
wards got engaged in New Zealand" con-
tinued Mrs. Melham, unconscious of her
| daughters agitation. "He was so devoted
| to her, and now he declares he shall never
marry" added she.
Freda appeared intent on the art-em-
broidery she was working, and inwardly
| prayed that her mother might not note the
tremulous movement of her fingers. But
the emotion she experienced was so painful
that she rose and went silently out into the
fresh, cool evening air, which seemed to
calm her fevered pulses. Her pulse
throbbed; her heart beat; she longed for
solitude, and she eagerly looked toward the
deserted beach. How long would it take
her to reach it? Not more than few fleet
ing seconds. Oh! to stand for few in
stants by the moaning sea, and sob out
there her breaking heart.
The next moment she was flying over the
space which separated her from the sea.
Miss Melham! Freda" said a voice
near her, and Jack Scott herrIed to her side.
"Were you going to the Red Cliff?" asked
he., 'If so. may l accompany you? Or,
rather. wherever you are going, may |
have the happiness OF walking with you?
/ leave here tomorrow for the North, and
how do know when / may see you again !"
I'll was going to the Red Cliff" stam-
mered Freda, thrilling with joy and pain.
why did he go away if it was in truth
happiness to hiu,io see herP"
"DO YOU knoXWhY l ask You to walk