The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1891-02-15

0ScAn W ucr. Dub cannot DelloVe IL. AL,
poor Dorothy, she fears, / suppose, that /
may bring a new mistress TO her home-but
no, no-Martha and Dorothy have had so
little sunshine, such hard, cold lives, that
for no selfish happiness of my own will 1
ever interfere with their narrow Joys. And
as for her-for Caroline--she Is too fair not
to have many wooers. / am dong her no
harm-only little self-denial and the pain
will be past.n
So he made up his mind. This man, who
would turn aside not to tread on the worm
upon his path, bore his own pain during the
next few days with silent endurance. He
grew little grayer about the temples, and
more lines came ound the kind aud thought
full eyes, but he showed no other signs of HE
mental struggle. Yes, perhaps he was a
little kinder even than usual to the two
hard, cold, selfish sisters, for whose sake he
" as practicing his seh-denial This was his
nature He always gave generously. and
none knew what he gave.
Miss Sinclair was not slow to perceive
that change had come over the rec or's
manner. She saw that he rather avoided
her than otherwise, and this knowledge an
noYed Miss Sinclair exceedingly. But she
also made no sign. She went as regularly
to church, and sat there demure aud PEN
sive-eyed, whilo tie Misses Prescott watched
her with bitter and contemptuous glances
Had she been the best woman in the world,
they would have felt precisely the same to
to her. They wished to keep their brother
unmarried, and therefore regarded their
whole sex with distrust.
While the Rev. Peters one love affair
thus languished, another love affair, at
Brackenford, was progressing only too
quickly. Again and again. in the early
winter twilight, Francis Roche had met the
sunny faced Helen Drummond. They
managed it all very quietly. Helen sat with
Lady Ennismore in the mornings, drove
with her in the afternoons. and was shy and
even little distant in her manner to Roche
during dinner, and when they all met to-
gether afterward in the drawing room.
Had Lady Ennismore been asked the
question If there were anything between
these two young people after Roche had
been week at Brackenford, she would
have replied that their acquaintance was q
very slight one. Yet, before the end OF
this week, Roche had begun to think of his
future income; begun to speculate and won
der il he were justified in asking a woman
to share the somewhat precarious five hum
bred year which had been promised to him
at the "Lady's wardrobe" in Buckingham
Palace road.
He naturally hesitated before doing this
The more he thought of this strange adven-
ture the more surprising it seemed to him,
ard Walter Curzon often REQUIRED to the
subject with mingled feelings of curiosity
and envy.
Roche had still nearly three hundred
pounds of this money at his bankers when
he went to Brackenford, and tais small sum
now seemed tothe young man in the first
flush of his love, as something very respecta-
BILE to begin life upon!
He was very glad, at all events, that he
had saved it. Every day the frank, bright
face of his Helen became dearer to him,
and all his former expensive amusements
and pleasures suddenly grew fiat and weari--
some to his imagination when compared
with her sunny smiles.
They were almost like two children these
young lovers. Over their hearts had come
a great sense Of enjoyment. e golden haze
which wrapped everything in misty bliss
and underlined happiness.
"How lovely Helen is growing" again
and again thought Lady Ennismore, glanc-
ing with vague uneasiness at the young
girls glad face, and then sometimes at
Roche's dark one. But still she noticed
nothing between them, until one evening
Miss Sinclair came into the drawing room
alone, and after few words of common
place conversation. began to talk about
Helen.
II scarcely like to mention what I am
about to say, Lady Ennisnore," said the
governess. standing III a graceful attitude
before Lady Ennismore's tea table, "but
from sense of dutY-for Jnlia'S sake-I
must do it."
Lady Ennismore looked quickly up, and
her fine complexion changed color,
what is it? Nothing has happened, l
hoper she asked.
''Oh, no, nothing has happened-only,
Lady Ennismore. you understand, as Miss
Drummond is not my pupil l scarcely like
to interfere. Still, from sense of duty, as
I said before, will speak-for-If feel sure
at least l feel almost sure, that you are
not aware that Miss Orummond walks daily,
and for hours alone in the dusk, with Mr..
Rochep
Lady Ennismore's face grew suddenly
crimson.
cit is impossiblem she said. with Mr..
Roche9 Mr. Roche Is with Lord Ennismore
on the moors."
"Mr Roche nevertheless contrives to
leave the moors every afternoon before 4
o'clock" replied Miss Sinclair, with her sub
dued smile. "They indeed meet every
about the walks together-they they are to
gether now"
Lady Ennismore rose hastily. and went to
one of the bay windows which looked out
upon the grounds.
st is most imprudent, most foolishl" she
said "Thank you for telling me, Miss Sin
clar-together now, did you sayp
"At least together a quarter OF an hour
since" said Miss Sinclair 81 was returning
from Mortonbury, where l had been on
little errand Of charity, and came unex-
pectedly on semi-sentimental scene under
the shadow of the fir trees. But do not be
uneasy, dear Lady Ennismore, she is but
child, and this young gentleman is probably
only amusing himself-still | thought it was
better and kinder to tell you"
Certainly" answered Lady Ennismore,
with a sharpness and decision of manner
very unusual to her. 81 will go and join
them-perhaps, Miss Sinclair, If Lord En-
nisu1ore and Mr.. Curzon come in before /
return, you will give them some tea9 And
you will kindly say, if Lord Ennismore in
quires, that ! shall be back almost immedi-
ately-and. of course, l need not ask you
not to mention anything about these stupid
young peopleP
''Of course shall mention nothing" said
Miss Sinclair, land dear Lady Ennismore
may / ask you q favorG-but please do
not be very angry with Miss Drummond,
nor yet tell her that / told you about these
foolish walksT
Il am not angry with the child, only
greatly annoyed answered Lady Ennis
more; and she opened the bay window be-
fore which she was standing as she spoke,
and went out on the terrace beyond.
II was now quite dusk. Overhead half