The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1890-05-29
SEVERED BY PRIDE.
Where have YOU been?'


questioning voice was harsh and cold;
the answering one young and sweet.
The aunt, wrinkled and shrunken as
a withered leaf of autumn. sat among
the soft pillows that lifted her time
wrecked form in an invalid chair.
The niece, fresh and bright, with
sunny touches on the brown of her hair,
and somewhat daring spirit shining
from her dark eyes, stood near the
fireplace, where rnddy light flashed up
and swept across her and showed the
slim. girlish figure clad in heavy cloth
and fur.
What were you doing at the lake"
Skating. The ice islike glass there,
aunt, and | was practising for tonight.
You know we are to have Il skating
party on the lake tonight. and
And you are no going to it!'
Not going! Why?"
Because you are under my care and
control. and / forbid you to go!' cried
Esther Claremont, sharply.
But | have promised-I will be
called for!" began Vera Claremont
piteously.
"Who is to call for you?"
The bent figure of the old woman
Strengthened suddenly. her shrunken
hand was put out and laid on the girls
arm.
You need not tell me. l know!"
cried Esther Claremont, with passion
ate anger in her sunken eyes, Il ann
lying here day after day helpless and
crippled, and you would fain deceive
me. but you cannot! / know who is
playing at love with you, who is teach
ing you that love is sweet, and truth
and honesty only words-idle words?
That fair young face of yours has
brought you what fairness and youth
brought me at your age; but your life
shall not be wrecked by it as mine has
been. will save you though Ihave to
use bolts and bars to keep you safe!
One Claremont is enough to be blighted
by Damarel, and the lying lips of the
son shall not bind you to him heart and
soul, as the false lips Of the father
bound me when | was credulOus
young thing like you.
She paused, painting. Vera had
grown pale, but she could not remove
her eyes from those burning ones be-
low her.
Speak" cried her aunt. rs not
Lee Damarel trying to win your love?"
''Yes"-slowly and falteringly. He
has said he loves me-"
''And you believe him? Tell me!'
IL believe him.
Esther Claremont laughed-a quick
mirthless, laugh-and suddenly loosing
her hold of Vera, pushed the slight
figure from her.
80" she cried, jeeringly, Il am too
late! You love the son of Conrad
Damarel! You have given me no con-
tidence; owe You no consideration
you, you, whom l took into my house
when you were homeless child; you,
| to whom have been kind for ten long
yearsn'
Never kind, Aunt Esther" spoke
out Vera, clearly. - You clothed and
led me. you allowed your roof to
shelter me, but never in all these ten
years have you even said one kind word
to me-"
''Ingratem hissed the woman.
Not that" Aunt Esther" for I am
grateful to you for what l have re-
| ceived"
Prove it! Prove your gratitude,
them" cried Esther Claremont, tiercely.
Give up this lover of yours; never see
his face again,"
Poor, pale little Vera! Where did she
get the strength to stand straight and
| fearless before the woman whom she
| had always feared before?
Il would rather diem she said, below
her breath
Die? AS if it would be hard to diew
| her aunt exclaimed. harshly. ITO live
| requires couragc-to live loveless,
friendless, unable to put faith in one
| human being. But let me tell you why
the name of Damarel is hateful to me.
You never heard the story"
Il have heard it, but not from YOU"
answered the girl, gently.
| And she stood in an attitude of deep
interest, as with the brief winter day
| dying. and the shadows gliding to her
chair, Esther Claremont told her story.
II loved Conrad Damarel," she said,
her voice pulsing with feeling; "Iloved
him with my whole heart, And he
he played at love. He never truly
loved me. or he would have made 4
| few impatient words of mine sufficient
excuse for breaking with me. l did
not mean them-God knows did not!