Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1890-09-13
REVENGE.
By MRS MARY 4. DESIsoS.

Let ne tell you q romance hidden
from the world for many years.
There once lived, under the brow of
hill In one Of the neatest of English
cottages, a girl whose name was Resale
Summers. She was neither plain nor
beautiful, yet people seemed more at
tracted by her sweet face than that Of
Morena WiIloughby, daughter of the
rich factor, whose home lowered Ii
splendor upon the very summit of the
ridge" as il was called. Morena was
beautiful and very naughty. Rosalie
was winning, and gentle, modest Great
IRE.
At the door Of the hail stood a trav-
cling carriage one day, from which a
stranger alighted who seemed more
than ordinarily welcome to the family.
Horace Nernet was young English
nan, wealthy and titled Moreno had
heard much about him-had pleased
herself by a thousand giTlish fancies
concerning him, all ending by the con-
viction that he would admire, love and
finally marry her. This idea had taken
complete possession OF her mind even
before she had seen him. When he
came, and she heard the rich tones Of
his voice, SAW the commanding beauty
of his person, the conquest was com
pleted-she loved him.
He in return treated her only with
extreme cOurtesv,-he admired her, but
his heart was his Own.
One day he stood on the piazza under
trelhsed vines.
What pretty figure that is!7 he
said, using his eye-glass. That Is ma
turaI grace-perfectIy natural-one can
tell. wonder who It Is.
Why, she knew not, but at that
moment Morena's heart misgave her.
There was a strange tremor and throb
of brain and nerves as she recognized
one whom she had never condescended
to notice, but whose praises she often
heard
20, that must be Rose Sommers.7 said
the naughty girl, q scarcely perceptible
but scOrnful smile curving her lips.
-She lives In that tiny cottage down
there-you can Just see 1t. Is not the
wind freshing:7 and she made a move
ment, gathering her dainty garments In
Ieweled fingers, thus mutely signifying
that she would ike TO 90 II. But Sir
Horace did not notice this maDe1yer;
his eyes followed that figure toiling up
the form dropping manner sug-
sgesting a possibility Of some sudden
grief or fear. Perhaps BY the aid of his
glass he had seen the gold-bgown ring
lets escaping from her bonnet.
Pray who is she?7 he asked again
with sudden interest
"A girl very common In all respects,
though believe she has q smattering of
learning sufficient, st any rate, to ed
ucate the farmers children down
there
@Indeed,7 said Sir Horace, briefly,
and kept his position.
Will you excuse me?" asked Miss
Willoaghby, colby, I feel the chill
induced by this strong wind"
Your pardon said Sir Horace,
turning quickly and offering his arm
Let NE conduct you within doors; as
for NE, this breeze invigorates, and with
your permission viii return and study
this exquisite landscape
The beauty bowed assent-what else
could she debut 1 am afraid to say
bosom She had thought he would re-
main with her, that she might charm
him with sweet music and beguilinC
words. It was not so; and as he went
ont again, she hurried to her mothers
chamber.
Meanwhile the figure had gained the
brow of the hill. There it paused for q
moment. The ruthless wind frolicked
with her curls. but the face was pale,
the eyes sad, almost fearful HurTying
on, she passed the gates, unheedng the
form Of the man who still watched, and
even passed him without turning her
head
What sweet FACET calculated Sir
Horace. Really, the handsome No
rena has q rival, fear, and that Is
what made her so short This girl
rpoor though she NAV be, and much
less artistically beautiful-has face
worth thousand Of the other. She Is
In trouble, too, Of some kind I an
sorTy.
He sauntered slowly TO snd fro, still
thinking of the mournful countenance.
-ben he heard voices. One belonged
to the stranger; he knew It by It sorrow-
full modulations. The others were Mrs.
WilIOugnby-a woman Of an iron-gray
face. whose strength Of nerve WAS 3
fixed fact-and Morena'S-
I an sorry your mother Is sick, and
Twill send Wilson down there Emery
might 90 for the doctor, but he Is very
busy On 9 salad for Mr.. WllOughby,
and my husband IS 50 particular. Tel
Wilson to put you up g few herbs-lt
may be that she Is not so Ill
20, yes, she is very, very llF muir
INJURED = voice which sent 8 sympathetic
thrill through the heart Of the young
man
But yOu know you're always fright