The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1891-01-18

1t was bright moonlight night in Octo-
Der. The moonbeams with their silver
radiance lighted up the scene OF mountain
and valley with wondrJus beauty, kissing
the bosom Of the distant sea, where rose
kerrara and Morvea like shadowy masses.
whilst down the glen, where autumn still
fingered in playful dalliance, the dying
glories OF the leaves stood revealed wherever
toe moonlight touched the trees Claude
(who had delayed coming to Glen-OrIoch
whilst the memory Of Sir Reginald DENT
sons tragic end still remained fresh in Wini-
fred's mind had only arrived at the Castle
the day before and this was the first time
they had been together alone.
But what a hollow pretense was this plea
OF smoking a cigarl Claude, with his hands
plunged desp in his trousers pockets was
occupied more to his mind in gazing upon
the beautiful face that was raised to the
stsr-studded sky. and which appeared more
lovely in the soft pure silvery light that
fell upon it,.
Where is your cigarr asked Winifred,
noticing for tho first time the omission. II
thought you were going to smol1e.n
$50 will, presently" said Claude, with
peculiar emphasis. "If you don't object to
having me without my cigar, l will defer
that satisfaction few moments longer.n
"How DO you think Lady Falconridge is
the conversation should drift into a chan
mel she wished to shun. "She was very
disappointed when you did not come in the
summer. / was quite anxious about her
health for some days. She seemed to feel
it so much.n
I'VE will not talk of Lady Falconridge
just now if you don't mind" said Claude,
with a low laugh.
"No-what shall we talk of thenF' asked
Winifred, innocentlv.
"Of you."
"Of mel Please DON'T" cried Winifred.
in a low. distressed tone.
But must" persisted Claude, playfully.
And then assuming a graver tone he went
on, II have held silence for six long months,
Winifred, and, II thought it was your
pleasure, would keep silence six months
longer; but think after all that has hap
pened my silence might be misunderstood.
You might think l had changed. or some-
thing else equally dreadful for me to i'm
agine had happened, so that must speak
to you and you must hear" And as he
spoke Claude took one fair hand In his and
held it, while his arm was placed round
Winifred with an air Of proprietorship that
he knew so well how to assume.
"Oh, please don't, she murrnured gently.
"For your own sake l ask it. Put this
thought from your mind and do not speak
OF it again for your own sake, Claude"
But Claude was in one of his masterful
moods, and not to be gainsaid. There were
times when he could bear down resistance
aud assert himself in a way which brooked
no opposition to his will, aud yet withal a
knightly and playful courtesy that sat well
upon him, and which women especially
found irresistible. Such a mood was on him
now. He was tender, passionate, but there
was none OF the nervousness of the
lover about him; rather sense Of power
which he knew he possessed and meant to
exert to the utmost.
"For my sake" he replied. "Be it so IL
you will but cannot have you setting I'D
yourself as an infalhble authority to decide
what is for my good and what isn't. |
will discuss this question in all its bearings,
II you compel me to do that, but
we do not stir from this terrace until
have beard all your arguments and answered
them"
"You cannot answer Them" said Wini>
fred, with a nervous pressure of her fin
gers on his arm as she walked by his side. e.
"We will see about that. II / have
spoken too soon l will forbear II you pre-
fer that should wait few moments longer
will do So"
mo. 1t is not that" cried Rinifred, sud-
denly looking up. Believe me, it is not
that. II there were not invincible reasons,
why what you ask for can never be, and
you asked me to marry you next week l
would say Yes"
VERY we'll, l will make a note Of that,
and come back to it presently" said
Claude, whilst Winifred's face was covered
with maidenly blush as she saw. when it
was too late, how deeply she had committed
herself II know all your secrets" Claude
continued playfully, land it makes no diff
ference. How should it?'
"You cannot know ALL" returned Wini-
fred. THAT Is impossible. II you did you
would cease to think Of me even with
respect"
bitter things to me. Little do you know
my heart. In this matter / must be the
judge for myself. 1t concerns the happi-
ness and all the hopes OF a lifetime more
deeply than you think. love you too
passionately-to hopslessly. dearess-to adj
NIT Of any trifing with our happiness. II
something OF your secret remains untold
which you think can kill love, put me to the
proof. 1t is the only kindness that you can
do to me.n
Winifred commended in vain against the
force of Claude's passionate pleading, W hich
swept everything before it, like one of the
mountain torrents of his native land. With
a beating heart she told him of herself, of
her meeting with Reginald Denison, of her
married life down TO the day that she sepa-
rated from her husband at York, which
ended in her setting forth to meet her life
alone.
"You see," she said In concluding her
narrative, 'it is not only that have been
the wife of such an one as Reginald Deni--
son that raises an insuperable bar between
us, but that he coerced me into countenanc-
ing him in his devices, and made me the
decoy to q gambling hell. Nor is that the
worst, am afraid that there is not a man
who visited US at Portland place except
Lord Algy Fitzherbert, who knew that
was really his wife. They must have
thought of me as something lower STILL"
And Winifred hung her blushing face with
the recollection Of the shame, remember |
ing into whose ears she poured her confes-
sion.
But from the moment she began her story |
Claude drew her more closely to him. and |
when her tale was told he gathered her ten |
derby to his breast.
"One thing more. Winifred," he cried. |
''Tell me that you do not love me. Alb, |
you hang your head at that You dare not |
50 perjure yourself. Speak, Answer
mel"
"Oh, Claude, if did not love you too well |
10 permit you to unite yourself with one 50 |
how should have found courage |
TO tell you my storyl You know love |
you. | told you that dreadful day at Ken /
Iington that loved you with all my heart /
and soul. For PHYS sake, let me go now"
at would be treason to your conscience |
( made light Of all that you have passed /
through" exclaimed Claude, 'but long