The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, 1890-08-08
if.he had lost all seIf-control, all power

ifhe had lost all self-control, all power
of speech.
She was moved, and remained silent
uutil the sound of her mother in the
other room seemed to give her tongue
new impetus.
"Ah, Richard, Art is'long and life
is lleeting!' We have no time to be great
or to foster grand thoughts. Why, even
you and might be silly enough to fall
in love with each other, but it wouldn't
do, would it? o no, it would be ridicu-
lous,madl The very last thing on
"The very last thing on earth, }" he re-
peated, quietly. They were notlooking
at each other now, yet they were both
strangely pale.
1.-THE very lastl" she said, recovering
herself after moment; then abruptly:
Richard, 1 want to tell you some
little things-confidential you know,
strictly confidential"
"Yes," he said, vacantly.
Richard, this is midsummer; but 1
suppose you know people wear hannels
in inter-time-ladies do"
Her seeming irreleyancy might other
times have startled him; now he only
sighed ding ii,n.suiringly
"Well, last winter-you remember
how cold it was-how many flannels do
you suppose mother and I had apiecep"
Three, perhaps" he ventured ,weari-
"No, indeed; we had three between
us. This kept us washing one twice
ing out the garments. Fancy having
one such article Of clothing and taking
it off at bedtime to wash it that it may
dry by morning. Isn't the thought
abominablep
-Ehal lans f,,iverins breath thet he
that, through her, his heart must ache
long time, perhaps forever.
\ She could not look at him. He rose
without speaking. Perhaps he could
not trust his voice.
You are not going, Dick2 But per-
haps you haven't been to supper
you will not do anything hastily. Rob
ertine, remember-remember lam your
friend-always." Then he went out
and away.
Mrs. Ferris slid the doors ajar and en-
tered.
"Gone at last?" she asked, glancing
through the window at the tall form
gait. If he doesn't look cOmmon"
Robertine had gone to the piano.
Mother" she said impatiently. "If
Maj. DrummOnd proposes again you'd
better marry him. He's uncommon
per-"
She could have sobbed aloud, she 80
hated herself She fancied Richard
ascending to his poor room across the
-and sitting down uncontrolled among
his manuscripts. She could see his pale
face, his sad, brown eyes. She hated
herself, and her mother, and Wilfred
Wales, and all the cruel, bitter world!
She tried a strain of Mendelssohn's
| music to soothe and strengthen her, and
her mother spoke, as if reminded:
"The piano rent is due tomorrow,
Robertine.. Don't let me forget; they are
very exacting."
Robertine changed to fierce opera
| melodies, and Immediately Mr.. Wilfred
| Wales arrived. Mrs. Ferris had made
her escape and closed the folding g-doors.
II was thinking of you," said Rob
ertips s sweetly, and 5 speaking the truth; t !;
| He pressed her hand with all lovers
| fOndness.
Nor was he really SO Objectionable
| well-built man with q prepossesSing
countenance and frank, easy speech.
He never romanced, nor paused for
exaotness, nor unfolded quaint dis
/
He was a cheerful caller and often
made her laugh; still there were times
| when she could as we'll have yawned.
| Poor Dick Ethel might have talked all
night and never wearied her.)
| "Take therocking- chair, she begged,
"and will sit right here on the sofa.
We can both see the street and feel the
breeze"
"Thanks," said Mr.. Wales, twinkling
his great third-finger diamond by care
less motions of the hand.
II say, what do you thinkp am 60
ing to change hotels"
'Indeed? Why thought you liked
your place so much?"
II did, until this morning. Never
was more surprised in my life. What
do you suppose found in my coffeep'
"a fly" the young lady suggested.
Not exactly"
"Then roach?"
"Oh, no; dear me, not so bad. But it
was a shred- of something resembling
COTTON
Concluded in our next issue.)