Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-01-04

give up all hope. Surely something could be done for Aaron by and by; and if Michael still refused to come to the aid of his old friend Olive re- solved to take the matter into her own hands In some way or other Aaron should be helped out of the slough of despond.
 She was so busy with her own thoughts and hopes that although Sea- ward Aylstone came several times to the florists shop she scarcely noticed him. As in a dream she heard his calm 1oice, ordering sprays of ivory and roses, and in dream still she wove the flowers and leaves together. She did not know that his glance always turned to the corner where she sat with her pretty curly brown head bent over her work She did not know that he lin gered long at the counter in the vain hope of seeing her lift her eyes or of hearing her speak. Another girl less absolutely true of heart would have ob- served his frequent comings and goings and have drawn her own conclusions. But Olive was under a potent spell
 At last, when the days were sultry and still and London was emptying fast, Michael came to see her again. He came, as he had been wont to do, on a Sunday afternoon and found Olive in the parlor upstairs. At the sight of him the Wakes, husband and wife, dis creetly vanished. And they said to each other in confidence that they had never seen him look so worn and strange. Olive, too, was struck with this ''strangeness" and met him with an anxiety that shaded her joy. Dear, you have worked too hard" she said.
 Yet as she looked at him again she I saw that he had gained something by the loss of his fresh color; the pallor gave a new refinement to his face. His clothes, too, seemed to be worn in a 1 uew and easier fashion. He moved less stiff1y and spoke more quietly.
 q believe 7 should have broken down l entirely,'' he said, Eff it had not been for the sea breezes. The Battersbys are | at South sea, and have been running | down to see them"
 ''Then you are quite intimate with them now, Michael? Are they nice people? Is Mrs. Battersby & good, motherly woman? Are there any daughters? Oh, am so glad they are l going to be kind to us!" cried poor | Olive in her simplicity.
 | An uneasy look fitted across Michaels | face.
 My dear girl, you should not fly l into raptures on small occasions" he remarked, coldly. ''How is one to an swer such string of questions? First of all, there is no Mrs. Battersby. And, as Mir. Battersby is a feeble old man whose mind is failing, cannot get very
 intimate with him.
 ''Oh,' said Olive in a disappointed
 tone; ''and there is no daughter?"
 "Well, yes, there is a daughter" He admitted the fact with curious reluc- tance. But she is a good deal older than you are; and-and you would not find her a sympathetic person, Ithinlz. " | ''Then she is not nice, is she?" Olive
 asked.
 ''I really don't know what you mean
 by 'nice;' it is womans word" 4 Michael tried to smile naturally, and
 only produced a strange contortion o1
 the lips.
 But if people are not sympathetic
 they can't be nice," persisted Olive un,
 wisely. You think her horrid, and don't like to say so."
 He flushed angrily.
 q have never thought anything SC
 prepostcrous,' he said. ''I only meant
 that Miss Battersby was calm and sen sible, and not given to romantic dream | ing
 The speech was spoken in a tone thai
 pained Olive deeply. She strove to tall
 on as if nothing had hurt her, but she was not able to pretend a cheerfulnes' A that she did not feel. Michael had no j said word about their future plans VI he did not tell her that she must soor come to a new home. He talked in {
 vague way of changes at the works, ant
 of old MT. Battersby's uncertain life
 and said that Edward Battersby hated
 trouble and business. And then h.
 suddenly got up to go, and gave her
 cold kiss at parting.
 "When shall I see you again, Mich ael?'' she asked.
 II don't know. l wish I could fix
 day for coming" he answered; ''bu
 Edward is always wanting me, and
 am so worried and hurried that there
 scarcely time to think. However,
 will write if do not come" d When he had gone, Olive went ava u to her little room and sat down by tn e bed in utter bewilderment. The per d son that she loved, her promised hus
 band, of whom she had though \, hour after hour, what had be
 come of him? It was nc l, the old Michael who had just left hel
 but some one with different manne g and a cold heart. Success had come g that success which had been so longe g for and was this all that it had brought n The window was left open, but the he
 London air that came in did not COX ln her burning temples. Oh, to be { ly Eastmoen now, and feel the breez
 blowing fresh from the old hills. IS Uncle Wake did not like the aspeC
 of affairs, and saw that Olive was lool le ing pale and sad. He sent her to churC ie with his wife, and meditated over u Ut state of things without deciIing C It. what was best to be done. It scene IS. to him that Michael was disposed CT ! dra1v hack. b11t if if were SD Saur