St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1891-08-09

OH0ig. WlpluS HCl CJ Co Oue u tiOuS III
struck me at that moment. An absurd
thought; and it led me astray. Thoughts
will do that sometimes, won't they?
Yes?" with a delicious little glance at
him. "And so you are always busy; to-
day especially so, as | can see. Have you
had good SPORTY
Nothing" says ne, rather stiff1y, with
glance at his empty basket.
"How disheaTtening! l have been
more fortunate than that. See?" She
lifts the lid of her basket and shows a
good half dozen of the desired beauties
lying within 1t. II am going back to
breakfast" says she. II shall have
them fried. Mum-Mrs. Marks likes
trout.
''And late hours. apparently" says
he. 1T is 10 o'clock"
''Well, she doesn't like late hours"
says the girl contritely. But l do
when l go fishing, and SO l always see
that she has cup of tea and something
or other at on those warlike occasions.
You have breakfasted, of course?"
NO" winding up his reel. "But Pm
better to my mother than you are to-
Mrs. Marks" He was very near say
ing yours" In his own mind he has
no doubt at all but that the trout-loving
MI &c ndI hS 10 TIC llOlICl VI lIlo lOfCIy
girl. 81 didn't ask her to wait for me.
She will have forgotten her breakfast
by the time L get back TO the court"
-Four miles from this, isn't it?'' SYM
pathetically.
Quite that, even by the shortest
route"
And hungry all the way?" Her tone
has grown quite plaintiye now.
"Starving!" says he, laughing.
Don't do it," says she, earnestly.
"Come home with me. Mrs. Marks will
give you something to eat. l shall feel
as if we had been horribly inhospitable
if you go away from our very hall door
starving"
She looks up at him with so open, so
sweet, SO generous a glance that Grand
court goes down before it. He hesl-
tates, and, consequently, is lost. She
picks up her basket, and Gerald follows
her to her home.
1t is three weeks later, and though
Grandcourt has tished up and down that
part Of the river for trout, and fiShed,
too, with unflagging energy for second
invitation to breakfast-he has never
caught it.
Miss Bland, however, he has seen very
often, and not always with rod in hand.
There have been days when he met her
wandering far atield, searching for
flowers, or else sitting in shady places
engrossed in a book. At first he had
given himself up somewhat uncon-
sciously to the delight of seeing her,
then, as the truth slowly dawned upon
him that he loved her, passionate re-
vulsion of feeling had set in and he
swore to himself that whatever it might
cost him he would not break his moth
er's heart or lower the good oldname by
marrying girl who-Who was she?
He kept away from her for the six
longest days that he had ever known;
and now his resolution fails him, and he
hurries towards her across the grass
where, in the little nook of the sweet
meadow he can see her sitting, bending
over volume, his heart beating with SO
wild, so fierce all exultation that he
knows the end has come, and that he is
hers alone, soul and body, for now and
for always, actress though she be.
As she looks up at him it strikes him
she is very pale, and that there are deep
purple shadows beneath her eyes. Her
soft mouth has taken mOurnful droOp,
but as her gaze meets his, and as she
reads In his face some strange change
light that was not in 1t, surely, when
they last parted-her whole expression
alters; the pallOr gives way to brill
liant flush, and happy laugh parts her
lips.
"You have COME" cried she. JOY
ously. 81 thought you had tired of the
country and gone to Norway, or some
of those other horrid places that men
fancy nowadays.
81 have not tired of the country"
says he in low tone; land you?'
Il am worshlper of the green fields
and lanes" says she gently. II never
change. Town, though in sense anus
ing, has few charms for me. | find il
fatiguing. The lights, the sound. the
laughs. Il suppose | AM ungrateful,"
we'll received, but in reality | was glad
when the season was over and l could
fly away to hide myself here" She
leans forward-"that is secret, re-
member"
81 know. l shall tell no one of your
present abode. And so you were
great success?"
"They said so." indifferently. "But
didn't care about it,"
"Yet you will go back to it again?'
swell. Pm bound to do that Though
in my heart l wish | weren't" says she
softly, looking up at him with lovely
clear grey eyes. ''But when one has
promised made regular engagement
it is difficult to get out of it, isn't it?"
II don't see that" quickly. Mana
gers have been squared before now"
'Managersr' She turns upon him
glance full of the strongest amaZement.
Good heavens! What an actress the
girl is, both on and Off the stage!
sob! Did you think l had not
guessed" says he, with touch of pas
sion. "From the very first | seemed to
know it-and afterwards-But l wish
you had been open with me. You
might have told me. 1t would have
been better than to let me find it out
for MYSELF"
"And so you have found out that l
lam an actress?' say she. There is
so much agitation in her tone that he
feels terrible pity for her. With her
secret disclosed at last-laid bare-What
must her feelings be!
Don't take it like that" says he. SIT
can make no difference now. | love
you as l never loved; as l never shall
love another woman. YOU" he pauSes
and then goes on deliberately, Twill
marry me?"
"Oh, stay, stay!' says she, pushing
him from her. They have both risen,
and both are very pale. "Think-know-
ing me an actress, you still ask me to be
uou1. wife -