The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1891-04-29

sister.
Something in her eye checked the
polite sentence my lips we're forming.
Laying her cold hand on mine, she drew
me down into the garden. There in the
luminous moonlight she stood, her tall
form towering up above my slight one,
and her eyes, still with that strange, sin
lister expression in them, fixed full upon
mine. Involuntarily shuddered and re-
coiled.
~'Miss Bradley what is it you wish of
me +? Has anything happened to Da-
VIE?
Then she spoke
80 Margary Lee, have you not noticed
a gloom upon my brothers face for some
time Can you not guess what causes it p
Then she went on in in cold, slow
tones
He is in great distress, and has asked
me to speak to you for him?'
With eyes slowly dilating, / looked up
at her. felt that some blow was com
ing.
He to choose her, who he knew bad
no love for me, to speak for him Then,
with cruel terseness, she went on, hur-
riedly
He is betrothed to you Charmed
by your pretty face, he thought it was
love he felt-not mere fancy but he has
found his mistake Do you not under
stand He wishes me to ask from you
his freedom.
"With cry 1 sank on my knees,
there on the damp ground, and grasped
her dress convulsively in my trembling
fingers.
"' Oh, for PHYS sake tell me what you
have said is not true ?
With quick movement she drew
the folds of her dress from my hold, and
stood looking at me as knelt before
her.
80 Margary Lee, you are woman
you have some pride, hope, Do you
not understand me when say he does no
lore you Surely you would not marry
him without his love, merely to be lady
of the manor p
Her words had the desired effect
Stung beyond expression, sprang to my
feet.
"'TeIl your brother he might have
been what have always considered hin
"A gentleman, and come to me himself
but he shall be free. He need not fee
bound by his promise. break the en-
| gagement.
She spoke more softly now:
"'' Had you not better tell him your.
self?'
With passionate cry, answered
TsHhim Speak with him, after what
has passed.
60 No. she said, you need not speak
to him-write him-write him few lines
tomorrow
drawing her dark cloak tightly
about her. her errand done, she left MT
alone in the dusk to battle with the ago
ny which seemed to tear my very heart
fibres.
Had l not been 50 young and limo
cent l might have suspected that treach
cry was at WORK, and that Estells Brad
ley would never have come to me as sh
had, save to further her own ends but
believed every word she had said, and
would gladly have let my young life ed
out with the sealding tears which fiowe'
from my eyes.
"The next cay l sent a short, coll
note 10 David, breaking our engagement
| only told my parents enough to Ii
them see that their child's happiness ha
been crushed out forever then my oyel
taxed brain succuubed, and for weeks
lay tossing in the delirium of fever upo
my bed When grew rational, learr
ed that David had called to see me o.
receiving my note, but with her materna
pride aroused to fever heat in my behali
my mother had refused to speak wit
him, or even to allow him entrance.
"My mother told me herself.
"a He's gone now, Margery,' she said
and when you are better we viii leay
this place Your father will take us I
London. Now the cid Squire and h
wife are dead, there's nothing to keep I
here.
"'Where has Mr.. Bradley gone, mott
er p 1 asked, feebly.
al do not know, Margery,' she said
neither do care. Get well, child. an
do not think of his false face again.
But that was easy to say.
, Wherever it was he had gone, he di
not return before we had left the hou.
in which I had been born.
Three years rolled by.
One morning the post-box brougl
me letter-a large, tinted, crested el
: velope.
) / broke the seal, and found it WI
from Estelle Bradley. Only few stranc
| words, penned in tremulous hand.
/ SO 'Margery,' she wrote, Nemesis h
r overtaken me- Ipm very sick come
: the manor and hear my dying words
( - Do not go, Margery, said my mot
e or, Has the manor ever brought an
d thing but sorrow to you =? Why shou
; you return?
e But ! did not feel that way Estel
e was dying. That proud, graceful igu
! was stretched upon couch of pain. y
a for worlds would l bear malice to ol