The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-02-01
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ARE yoU NOT AFRAID TO LET Me LOVE
your,
"Afraid?r
"Oh, you don't know how fierce how
jealous my love is. I"
For me, Gwendoline?"
She snatched away her hand and
covered her burning face. II worship
you, she said "But l never meant to
let you see it,
"Gwendoline, my beautiful, sweetest
girl
That evening the final battle was
fought out with Blanche. Gwendoline,
with her own firm, white hand, dashed
the dog into submission, and made her
fawn, conquered at Vincent's feet.
She was pale and shuddering with ex-
element when it was over.
Would you do as much for me?' she
asked.
"Give up q dog for you-my princessY'
he said with kind of uneasy admira-
ton for this splendid Amazon.
Would you give up what you loved
because I did not like you to love its'
she asked
Vincent only kissed the beautiful lips
that asked this absurd question.
It was now the end of May. The past
weeks had been transformation scene
in Vincents life. The Office, the rare
clients, the bills and the book agents, the
dandelions on the common and Miss
Marquand's Friday musicales had faded
into an undistinguishable past. Life, at
its intensest, with its bloom and fra
GRANGE. he had lived on this Virginia
farm. To wake betimes in the morn
ing and hasten down to his meeting with
Gwendoline, to share every moment of
the day with her among the papers in
Gideon Danes brass bound desk, over
the broad acres of the plantation, up and
down the mountain roads, along the
trout streams, in the dairy, among the
acres where the Strawberries were red
dening round of business, pleasure,
passion.
But at last, as even the lovers came to
recognize, change must come. Vim
cent must return to Boston and straight
en- up his neglected affairs. Then he
would engage board for tho summer for
Gwendoline and Miss Chatworth, some
where at the seashore where he would
join them.
For once, indeed the last night of his
stay, a June night with O young moon
in the warm sky, he TAD Gwendoline in
the hammock On the veranda, parting
seemed impossible.
MARRY me, Gwendoline, tomorrow,
he sighed. s'Do not send me away from
you Why should we lose q month of
bliss out of life? Lifsis short enough
without wasting it,"
But Gwendolne shook her head faint
ly, while Vincent, protesting against de-
NAL, lifted the loose, fragrant braids of
dark hair that fell across her shoulder
and kissed them, and kissed the pink
finger tips and the rosy palms and the
curying wrists, and felt that man had
never loved as he loved.
TWAS a warm morning in August.
On the broad piazza Of large hotel a
group of ladies and gentlemen were
seated, idling away the after breakfast
hour.
What alovely day to bathel mean
to stay in the water for hours" said Julia
Marquand, fair, elegant girl, in sim
pie white gown. Are you going in, Miss
Dane?"
She turned toward Cwendoline Dane,
who sat little distant, leaning her ell
bows on the railing and looking absent
ly off at the water.
Gwendoline turned almost sharply
upon the interlocutor.
Really, haven't decided. l don't
suppose your pleasure depends upon my
company"
The two girls looked at each other
the one fine, keen, controlled, conven-
tional, the other. Poor Gwendoline, ac-
customed to supremacy, unused to re-
straint. was no match for Miss Mar
quand, who replied with delicate malice:
ooh, it's great deal more fun when
you are along"
"Why?"
Julia Marquand smiled her sweet
smile and turned her heavenly blue eyes
toward Alex Vincent, who was talking
to Miss Chatworth, and trying not to
hear what Gwendoline and Julia were
saying.
The blood rushed crimson over Miss
Danes face and throat. She understood
the silent reply. Julia Marquand's sfup,
consisted in making her jealous.
n am fortunate in serving you for an