The Forrest City times., 1891-06-05
CHAPTER V.

Florence. after Dora has left her, sits motionless at her window. She has thrown open the easement, and now the sleeves of her dressing fall ing back from her bare rounded arms leans out so that the descending night dews fall like benison upon her burn ing brow.
 She is wrapped in melancholy; her whole soul is burdened with thoughts and regrets almost too heavy for her to support. She is harassed and per ! plexed on all sides. and her heart is sore for the loss of the love she once had deemed her own.
 The moonbeams cling like halo round her lovely head. her hair falls ill a luxuriant shower about her should CTS; her plaintive face is raised from l earth, her eyes look heavenward, as though seeking hope and comfort there.
 The night is still, almost to oppres- { siveness. The birds have long since { ceased their song; the wind hardly stirs the foliage of the stately trees. ! The perfume waited upward from the sleeping garden floats past her and mingles with her scented tresses. No sound comes to mar the serenity of the 1 night, all is calm and silent as the grave.
 Yet, hark, what is this? A footstep on the gravel path below arouses her attention. For the first time since Do- : ra's departure she moves, and, turning 1 her head, glanceS in the direction of the sound.
 | Bareheaded. and walking with his hands clasped behind him as though absorbed in deep thought, Sir Adrian comes slowly over the sward until he stands beneath her window Here he pauses, as though almost unconscious ly his spirit had led him thther, and brought him to a standstill where he would most desire to be. The moon, spreading its brilliance all around, permits Florence to see 1 that his face Is grave and thoughtful, and-yes, as she gazes even closer, she can see that it is full of pain and vain longing.
 What is rendering him unhappy on this night of all others, when the wo- man she believes he loves has been his willing companion for so many hours, when doubtless she has given him proofs of her preference for him above all meng
 Suddenly lifting his head, Sir Adrian becomes conscious of the face in the window above, and thrill rushes through him as he recognizes the form VI tltC NRtiisttt iit lpSNS-
 The scene is so calm. so hallowed, so full of romance, that both their hearts beat madly for awhile. They are alone; any one still awake within the house is far distant.
 Never has she appeared so spiritual, so true and tender, so full of sweetness that is almost unearthly. All pride seems to have gone from her, and in it's place only a gentle melancholy reigns; she looks so far removed from him, sit ting there in the purity of her white robes, that, at first, he htsitates to ad- dress her. To the excited imagination, she is like an angel resting on its way to the realms above.
 At last, however, his heart compell- ing him, he speaks aloud.
 Florence, you still awake, when all the world is sleepingg'
 His name falling from his lips toueh- es a chord in her breast, and wakes her to passionate life.
 You too" she says in whisper that reaches his strained ears. There seems to her subtle joy in the thought that they two of all the household are awake, are here talking together alone ill the pale light of the moon.
 Yet she is wrong in imagining that no others are up in the house, as his neAt WoTQS tell ner.
 Tt is not matter of wonder in my case" he responds; "a few fellows are still in the smoking-room. It is early, you know--not yet three. But you why are you keeping lonely vigil like thisy"
 The moon tempted me to the win dow," answers Florence. See how calm she looks riding majestically up thprA &aAr--gfratnbtnu nttf haF hara white arm until the beams fall full up- on it, and seem to change it to purest marhle-"does it not make one feel as If all the world were being bathed i'll its subdued glowY'
 A pale tremulous smile widens her lips. Sir Adrian, plucking a tall pale lily growing near him, filings it upward with such an eager aim that 1t alights upon her window-sill. She sees 1t. Her fingers close upon it.
 Fit emblem of its possessor," says Do you know of what you remind mo, sitting there in your white robesy X mediBval saint cut ill stone-a pure an gel, too good, too far above all earthly passion to enter into it, or understand 1t, and the grief that must ever attend upon it."
 He speaks bitterly. It seems to him that she is indeed cold not to have guessed before this the intensity of his love for her. However much she may have gwen her affection to another, 1t still seems to him inexpressibly hard that she can have no pity for his suffer ing. He gazes at her intently. Do the mystic moonbeams deceive him, or are there tears in her great dark eyesY His heart beats quickly. Once again he re- members her emotion of the past even- ing. He hears again her passionate sobs. Is she unhappyg Are there thorns in her path that are difficult to remover.
 Florence, once again I entreat you to contide in me- he says, after a pause.
 T can not" she returns, sadly but firmly. But there is one thing I must say to you-think of me as you may for saying it-I am not cold as you seemed to imply moment since; 1 am not made of stone; and, alas, the grief you think me incapable of understanding is mine alreadyl You have wronged me in your thoughts. have here" she explains with some vehemence, laying the hand in which she still holds the dropping lily upon her breast, what I would gladly be without--a heart.r
 Nay" says Adrian hastily; you for get. It is no longer yours, you have given it away
 For an instant she glanees at him keenly, while her breath comes and goes with painful quickness.
 You have no right to say so," she murmurs at last.
 No, of course not: I beg your par-