Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1890-04-19

was on dangerous ground. Cyril told me to
| let people suppose that had broken our en-
gagement, and to tell the truth would be to
touch upon his secret, which he may have
wished to keep from his fathers knowledge.
''Oh, the cancelment Of our engagement
arose on the spur Of the moment" 1 replied
| carelessly. Cyril and were of one opinion :"
THAT is enough, child" Uncle Ambrose an
swered kindly; III Florestan is the chosen man
l think he ought to be informed of what has
happened, and that the lady he loves is Free"
"Oh, no, no, no, no." / cried in q great
fright. HE mustn't be told anything. Why,
that would be like putting mo up to auction.
Ii he really cares for me his love will keep. If
ne rushes of to propose to somebody else--as
have heard of young men doing-that will
only prove that his love wasn't worth having
LIE. him wait and find out for himself that am
not going to marry Cyril"
What an arrogant young person you are; but
suppose you must have your own way" said
Uncle Ambrose; ''only remember. Daisy. that
1 want to see you happily married to the man
OF your choice before die. want to be sure
that have done all for your happiness that
your own father could have done had he lived
to bless you on your wedding day."
The deep grave tones of his voice. the solemn
expression OF his eyes as he turned them upon
me, made my heart thrill with love and rever-
ence. Yes, he is good man. a man in whose
flaw.
'You are not going to leave us for many a
year TO come, said. Indeed, indeed there
Is no reason that my marriage should be hur-
ried on
''Yes. Daisy, there is need. I want to see
you happy. 1 want when lie down on my bed
for the last time and turn my face to the wall,
10 be able to say to myself, AT least my little
friend, Daisy, is happy; have been her friend
from the hour she learnt to read at my knees
until the hour gave her to the husband of her
choice. No father upon this earth could have
been more careful of his daughters happiness
than have been of hers Perhaps in the last
hours, when mind and senses grow dim, may
forget that my little pupil ever grew up to
womanhood, may think of Won as a child
still, fitting about the garden with streaming
hair, may not recognize the real Daisy when
she looks at me with plying eyes"
These sad forebodipgs made me cry; and
kissed Uncle Ambrose and tried to comfort
him, and felt as fond of him as used to be
when was a child. l was glad that the old
feeling came back, for of late though l know
always that he is mybest friend after my mother
we seem to have been growing further apart;
andl have had a curious sense of apprehension
when have been in his company, as if there were
some evil influence for me lurking under the
gloomy cloud which has darkened his life. To-
day felt only great pity and great love. the
old confidence and affection which used to fill
my heart when l ran across the lawn of
morning to meet him as he came in at the gate.
pitied him because l began to fear tina. the
shadow that rests upon him Is the shadow of
closing life, and that it is some deep-rooted
malady which makes him SO joyless among our
happy surroundings. l fear that his own
forebodlngs may be too surely realized,
and that he will never see the quiet long-spun-
out days of a good old age. This thought made
me very melancholy; yet it was great relief
to find that he did not disapprove of Mr..
Florestan as a lover for me. Who knows? Mr..
Florestan may be as tickle as the inconstant
moon; and all that impuisive nonsense of his
In the arbor may be utterly forgotten on his
part. though l remember every syllable. l
wonder what he is doing in Scotland! | think
he ought to have shot everything shootable by
this time.
ITO be continued