Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1890-05-08


Her eyes met those Of Guy Bellaire
yet the glances exchans sed were indlfer-
emily polite.
The next moment he had passed with
bow, and felt. rather than saw, the
earnest gaze that followed him.
An hour later Lucie Arnold stood
alone on The vine-clad balcony that
jutted out from one of the lower
windows.
She had wrapped herself in a scarf Of
pale rose chenille and drawn one firing
ed end over her dusky hair, and SC stood
silent as a statute, with one hand rest
ing upon the low rail.
A hand drew aside the curtains
behind her, mans form appeared, ,and
then withdrew with murmered
apology.
ut is I, Mr.. Bellaire,' said Lucie,
scarcely turning her head.
At the sound of her voice he paused
lrresolutely. He did not wish her to
think he was avoiding her.
Il DO not want to iutrude," he said,
coldly.
You will not.
But you came to be alone.
Yes; did you not, too p I think
under the circumstances, we should
either accept the situation and share
with each other the pleasant secluslon,
or return to the crowded ballroom
Spoke in light, jesting tone, but he
was in no mood to answer in the same
way.
He let the curtains fall from his
fingers, and stood regarding her in
silence moment with dark lines on his
forehead.
How calm and stately she stood him,
as though the wrong she had done him
in the past awoke within her heart no
regret, no remorse.
She turned and met his strange gaze
with faint smile.
1T is long time since we met last,
she Said. i did not expect to see you
here
1 had hoped we should never meet
again.
His tones We're low and intense his
eyes were flashing.
Some wild emotion had awakened
within his heart, and for the time every
thing was lost to his mind save the scene
before him and the presence of the wo.
man he had loved so madly.
lie sprang forward and closed his
fingers upon her slender waist. looking
down into her face with blazing eyes.
'Lucc Arnold, how we'll you have
learned the lesson of hypocrisy-how
the world has hardened you to all wom-
anly feelings he sald passionately. i
would have lett your presence, but you
bade me stay, and then you torture me
with light words and careless smiles. l
have never reproached you, never CEN
sured you, but when I learned of the
cruel wrong you had done me, l.
Stop, Guy Bel|aire,' she cried. 1t
Is not for you to speak of wrongs. How
dare you to refer to the past? haye
tried to forget. 1t was you who was
cruel
He started back with look of in
credulous wonder on his face.
you are still Jesting, he said hoarse-
ly.
Her lovely eyes were dim with tears,
her lips were quivering, and she turn
ed away with her hands over her face.
'Lucic, What do you mean ? he cried.
'ls there mistake? {? You act strange
ly-you haye accused me. What have
| done? But first tell me-were you
not pledged To- marry Winthrop Dale
when we parted?
NO.
'Then--lmy God, Lucie, how I have
wronged you | believed you false. |
left you with heart filled with scorn
and anger and despair. He, Winthrop
Dale, told me a lie--and for that | haye
ruined my life. Oh, Lucie, Lucie do
You realize it ?
She shrank from his outstretched
arms with shiver. and IA pallor came
into her features her eyes grew dark
and strained, and she drew her scarf
closer as though a sudden chill had
crept into the evening air.
1t was all mistak e. she said SLOW
ly.
For the first time since their meeting
he thought Of his fair, blonde wife. and