San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-02-23
CHAPTER XII.

What noise the tiny gravel makes be-
meath her feet, as she hurries rapidly to-
ward the garden! How her heart beats! Oh
that she were back again in her pretty safe
room, with the naughty Kit to scold! Oh, if
Aunt Priscilla were to rise, and, looking out
Of her bedroom window, catch a glimpse Of
her, as she hastes to meet the man she has
been forbidden to know! A thousand ter
rors possess her. The soft beauty Of the
night is unseen, the rushing Of sweet brooks
in the distance Is unheard. She hurries on,
little, 1.-the, frightened figure, with wide
eyes and parted lips, to the rendezvous she
has not sought. And what q little way 1t
had seemed in the glad daylight, yet what q
journey in the silent, fearsome night There
are real tears, born Of sheer nervousness, In
her beautiful eyes as she runs along the gar
den path, and at last-dt IdSt-finds herself
face to face with Desmond g..
"Ah, you have comer' cries he, gladly,
going to meet her while yet she is long
way off.
Eyes. But to come here, and at this
hour! 1t is madness p says Monica, hastily.
"a very blessed madness, then, and with
method in it; it has enabled me to see yo,t,"
''Oh, do not talk like that You ought not
to see me at all. And, now, what is it? Kit
said you wanted me sadly"
And so 1 do, and not only now but al
ways"
"If," reproachfully, sit is nothing press
ing, would not tomorrow have done~
Tomorrow never comes. There is moth
ing like to-day; and how could / have lived
till tomorrow? could not Sleep I could
not rest, until had seen you. My heart
seemed on fire. Monica, how could you
have treated me as you did to-day"'
"Why must you choose me to love,-Ine,
Of all the worldP' says Monica, TREMENDOUSLY;
'it is wide, there are Others-and-"
Because must. 1t is my fate, and am
glad of it. Whom wOrthier could lOve|'
says the lover, with fond, passionate rever-
ence.
"Many,no doubt. And why love at alp Let
us be friends, then, if it is indeed decreed
that our lives meet"
There could never be mere friendship be-
tween you and me. II your heart sleeps, at
least your sense must tell you that"
Then could wish myself without sense.
want to know nothing about 1t. Alas!
how sad thing is lover
"And how joyous! 1t is the one emotion
to be fed and fostered. All others are but
vanity. Will ptISlSt LII loFhlS you uleh
die"
THAT is foolish saying and, even If you
do, what will come of it allp' says Monica,
18th sigh.
Marriage, I trust" returns he, right
cheerfully. "Oh, Monica, if you could only |
love mep'
II dare not" Then, as though sorry for |
these words, she holds out her hand to him, |
and says with quick smile, ION, Romeo, |
Romeo wherefore art thou, RomeoT'
II wish 1 knew" returns he sadly. "Yet |
if were sure of one thing, Ishould not des-
pair Monica, tell me you don'tlike Ryde."
II can't say" says Monica. He is very
kind to me always. L am sure ought to
like him."
"How has he been kind to you?'
"Oh, in many ways"
HE has brought you cup of somebody
else's tea, suppose, and has probably trot-
ted after you with camp-stool; is that
kindnesSP' ;
IF one is hot or tired, yes"
"You are the most grateful specimen OF
your sex. wish there was anything for
which you might be grateful to me. But
am not great at the petits s0trS business"
II shouldn't have thought so this after
noon" says Monica, maliciously, when
YOU were so happY with Olga Bohun. But