San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-11-11
NOT PROVEN;
OR
ESTHER HILLS SECRET.
BY GEoRGIANA NJ. CRAIK.
OR

~ eS-l dare say IL Wouiu, puU ~ .
tedious work for one person. must
see about getting Gabrielle to help me-"
The color went up over her face. She
did not answer him for moment or
two: then
Gould l not help your" she said in
low voice.
II think you have got tired of help
ing me-"
She was tying up the last packet, with
her fingers trembling.
mo, have not got tired" she said.
"You know like to have your help,
but should not like you to give it to
me if you felt it a tax upon your time"
How can you suppose that l could
think that?"
She said this forcing herself to look
up to him; and-unwise as the answer
might below could she help making
it, or how could she say less, trembling
as she was in every nerve lest he should
guess why she had been reluctant to
come, or should imagine that she be-
lieved-what in fact she did believe?
II don't want to suppose 1t. Will you
stay and help me, them"
There was little chance of escape for
her: he took her word at once.
"Yes-if you would like it"
~ should like it very much. Take
off your strings again. then. Or stop
We'll clear the table first. Now, come
with one of your packets, and deal
them out. Let each persons letters be
put in separate pile"
So then she stayed with him, and they
spent all that afternoon together.
Aunt Susan came in once, and saw
them at their labor.
MY dear Guy, are you really setting
Esther to sort all your letters for your"
she said, and held up her hands in dis
may at the sight of the confusion in the
room.
But Mr.. Dunstan merely laughed.
"You don't want her, do you?" he
said, because 1 can't easily spare her
yet. Look here, Mrs. Hill-two letters
of young Anderson in different places!''
And without pausing he went on with
his work.
1t got to be dark before they had come
to the end of it, and they finished by
lamplight.
Are you very tired?" he asked her,
when everything was at last disposed
of, and the drawer once more put back
into its place. And then, before she
answered-"Yes,I see you are tired"
he said. Come and sit down here at the
fire and rest"
Thank you-but l think it must be
time to dress. l think it must be six
O'clock" she said.
mo, it wants quarter to six. Come
to this seat. You shall 60 when the
clock strikes" he told her.
And then she sat down. She was say
ing to herself-''I cannot help it. AS
soon as Christmas is over will go away,
but cannot stay here and not do what
he tells me-" And.so, in spite of all her
trouble, she did what he told her, and
was happy.
She was happy at least for the mo-
ment, but she was never now continual
ly or peacefully happy with him. She
could not be happy in that way any
more.
She used TO say to herself sometimes
He only treats me as he treats Helen.
He would be tender and kind to every
creature who wanted kindness from
him." and for little while now and
then, when she could half persuade her.
self to believe this, she used to be partly
at ease in his presence again, and, say
ing to herself-"I cannot harm him: he
will never need to be vexed through
me-" she would allow herself the
passionate delight once more of volun-
tarily staying with him, and serving
him in the old way. But the truth was
that he did not care for her as he cared
for Helen, and day after day it became
more impossible for her to persuade
herself that he did.
do not deny that he was cruel to her
during these days, for he pursued his
wooing of her, though he could not but
see that he often panied her. He con-
tinued to give her work to do for him;
he forced her again and again, by word
or deed, to confess that she loved to
help him,-and it was by these confess
SiOns, perhaps that, in his own mind,
he justified his treatment of her. He
was very strong-willed man, and &C.
casionally at least tolerably reckless
man too-almost as Indifferent to eau
ton and prudence as if he had been
boy. A prudent man would never have
allowed himself to fall in love with Es-
Their Hill; or if he had been luckless
enough to do it unawares, he would
surely have set himself without loss of
time to discover the meaning of the
mystery that hung about her, and would
have cautiously reserved all settlement
of the question of whether or not he
should offer to make her his wife until
that mystery had been cleared up. But
Guy Dunstan, though he was man to
whom a mystery was an abomination,
did not proceed in this way. He loved
Esther, and believed in her absolutely,
and he meant to make her love him, if
he could. And then, after that" he
thought to himself, "she shall tell her
secret to me-" He hardly any more be-
heved than a child would have believed
that the knowledge of her secret would
make any difference in the desire he