San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-02-24

.T1n no" with intense surprise at the queS-
tion. and soft, quick glance that is almost
sbamed ~ never had lover in my life
until | met YOU. No one except you ever
told me was pretty. The first time you
said IL | went home (when was out of
your sight" reddening, II ran all the rest
of the way) and looked at myself in the
glass. Then" naively, 81 knew you were
right. Still had my doubts; so L called Kit
and told her about it; and she," laughing,
"said you were evidently person of great
| discrimination, so l supposed she agreed
| with you"
"She could hardly do otherwise"
"Yet, sometimes" says Menica, with
hesitation, and with downcast face, II
have thought it was all mere fancy with
you, and that you don't love me really"
"My sweetheart, what cruel thing to say
to mer'
But see how you scold me! Only now,"
nervously plucking little bits of bark from
the tree, you accused me of dreadful things.
Yes, sometimes doubt you"
81 wonder where l leave room for doubt?
Yet l must convince you. What shall L
| swear by, them" he asks, half laughing;
1.-The chaste Diana up above-the lovers
| friend-is in full glory tonight; shall l
swear by her"
'Oh, swear not by the moon, the incon-
slant moon, lest that thy love prove like
| wise variable" quotes she, archly; land
vet" with a sudden change of mood, and
| certain sweet gravity, Il do not mistrust
YOU"
She leans slightly toward him, and, I'M
asked, gives her hand into his keeping once
again. She is full of pretty tender ways
and womanly tricks, and as for the best
time for displaying them, for this she has a
natural talent.
Desmond, clasping her hand, looks at her
keenly. His whole heart is in his eyes.
Tell me that you love me-" he says, in
low, unsteady voice.
How can 1? I don't know. I'm not
sure" she says, falteringly; and" shrink
ing little from him, lit is growing very
late. See how the moon has risen above the
frs. must go home"
Tell me you love me first"
81 must not love you; you know that"
"But if you might, you couldT'
"Ye-es."
'Then defy all acknowledgements and
friends, and lovers. l shall win you in the
teeth of all barriers, and in spite Of all OPP
position. And now 60 home, my hearts de-
delight, my best beloved. ! have this as
surance from you, that your lips have given
me, and it makes me confident of victory"
"But if you fall" she begins, nervously;
but he will not listen to her.
"There is no such word" he says gayly.
"Or, if there is, never learnt it. Good
night, my love-"
Goodnight" A little frightened by his
happy vehemence, she, stands well away
from him, and holds out her hands In fare
well. Taking them, he opens them gently
and presses an impassioned kiss on each lit
tie pink-tinged palm. With courteous
reverence for her evident shyness, he then
releases her, and, raising his hat, stands
motionless until she has sprung down the
bank and so reached the Moyne fields again.
Then she turns and waves him second
and last goodnight. Returning the salute,
he replaces his hat on his head, and, thrust
ing his hands deep in his pockets, turns to-
ward Coole-and dinner. He is somewhat
late for the latter, but this troubles him lit
tie, so set is his mind upon the girl who has
just left him.
Surely she is hard to win, and therefore
hO1o desirable! THE women of Ireland"
says an ancient chronicler, "are the coyest,
the most coquettish, yet withal the coolest
and virtuouseSt women on EARTH" Yet, al
lowing all this, given time and opportunity,
they may be safely wooed. What Mr.. Des-
mOnd complains of bitterly, in his home.
ward musings tonight, is the fact that to
him neither time nor opportunity is afford
ed.
"She is woman, therefore to be won;"
but how is his cOurtship to be sped, if thorns
are to beset his path on every side, and if
persistent malice blocks his way to the feet
of her whom he adores?
He reaches home in an unenviable frame
of mind, and is thoroughly unsociable to
Owen Kelly and the old Squire all the even
ing.
Next morning sees him in the same mood
and, indeed, it is about this time he takes to
imagining his little love as being hapless
prisoner in the hands of two cruel ogres u
am afraid he really does not apply the term
"ogres" to the two old ladies of MOyne),
and finds special melancholy pleasure II
| depicting her as lovely captive condemned
\ to solitary confinement and dieted upon
| bread and water.
| To regard the Misses Blake in the hgh
either of ogres or witches required some
talent; but Mr.. Desmond, at this period o.
his loye-affair, managed it.
CHAPTER XVII.