The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1892-05-13
NURSE EVA'S ROMANCE,

was with paling cheek that he said this,an
with eyes dewncast.
Nurse Eva?" said the matron. "Oh, she
left us quite fortnight ago. We were all
so sorry to lose her. she was such an excel
lent nurse. am sure you too, Sir Rawdon''
with smilc--"will havea good word for
her on that score"
"Left!" 1t was all Sir Rawdon could say.
Eyes; almost the day after you did,"
"You know her address, perhaps?"
When he asked this, he felt like drown
Ing man grasping at straw, and he knew
the straw would fail him.
No" said the matron rcgretfully. She
thought him very kind young man. Craft
tude, as rule, is not an overpowering pas
sion with the many. "But do not fret about
that" she said. II am sure she understood
that You would wish to thank her. Yes, She
was an excellent nurse-so sympathetic; we
were sorry to lose her"
Sir RawdOn rose to bid her goodbye
II suppose DIR. Bland would not know her
address," he said.
mo, am sure of that. She went away
very suddenly--for family reasons, as she
told me-and left no word with any one as
to where she was going. Goodbye, Sir Raw
stored" etc.
Sir Rawdon, returning her farewell, told
himself he was not so fully restored as she
kindly imagined, and that his strength was
by no means what it used to be.
1t is year and a half later, and Christmas
Eve. There isno suspicion of invaldism
about the tall, handsome young man who,
sitting in n tirst-class carriage, with rather
| bored expression ON his face, is being whirl-
ed swiftly northward. He had checked his
journey by spending one day in Edinburgh,
and had felt it dull in the extreme. Even
now, when he is Fastening on to Aberdeen,
the stupidity of his lonely stay there has not
quite worn off. But he is always dull now,
he tells himself, with 4 disdainful shrug of
| his broad shoulders. and grows moodier and
moodier, until, his journey coming to an end
he finds himself on the chilly platform, with
two cleaning carriage lamps awaiting him.
The drive is a long one, and bitterly cold.
The change from it to the soft brilliant
warmth of a huge hall, hung with many
skins and bristling with antlers, is almost
more than he can endure with fortitutle. AS
| in dream, he follows the servant across the
hall-rose-lit from two large shaded lamps
upon the dark oak staircase beyond-and
| Ndlililtly SuppTeSSeS NeSlIe W SltS peSltle
the huge log-fire forever.
But the servant nercilessly marches him
onward, and presently he finds himself in a
long, low, many cornered room full of peo-
pie, all more or less in the reposeful attitudes
that border upon sleep. There is a soft,
sweet, subducd hum of Slumberous voices, q
tender tinkling OF delicate china, the music
of many spoons. There areno rose-lamps i'll
this room; nothing but the leaping light of
glorious fire that renders all things clear as
day. The divan-looking lounges are cover
| ed with tartan, so are a good many of the
men, and only few of them have their
neither limbs covered.
| Sir Rawdon, still unthawed, starcs idly
round him. There is a pretty girl in a vo-
luminous armchair, who rods brightly to
| him-MlSs Adair, and another crouched pict-
| urcsquely upon the bearskin rug before the
fire, who stops her chatter for an instant to
gaze at him curiously and
Good heavens! who is that? Who is that
sitting over there, with her face, her figure,
the very hands of hcrl
| A slender creature, reclining in low
chair, and clad i'll an exquisite tca-gown-all
satin and old lace. She is smiling. One arm,
half naked, but mittened TO the elbow, is ly-
Ing gracefully across the arm of her lounge
as she leans toward her neighbor; the other
is trifling idly with huge white fan.
Even rs Dare gazes at her, spelbound, she
laughs, softly, merrily,a some remark made
70 her by her companion-a rcdheaded young
Scotchman. The laugh somewhat restores
| Sir Rawdon to his senses. Alas! she had
never laughed; her lovely face had always
been tinged with deep melancholy. What
madness possessed him to make him think
he saw again before him the one woman lie
had ever loved-the only one he ever should
love? And to dream of meeting her here, of
all places! A hospital nurse as a guest at
the Towers, in that gown, that
| Dear Sir Rawdon, so glad!' says his
hostess-a tall handsome woman-at this
moment, coming languidly forward with a
smile and graceful gesture. $50 nice to
see you again."
| Sir RaWdon murmurS something to the
effect that he is positively oycrpowercd with
10y at the idea of seeing her axain; but his
words sound vague and unmeaning-to him
self, at lcast-and his eyes are not his own
70 deal with; they wander incessantly to the
ow chair and its lovely occupant, and will
not be controlled. "WhO is the ownero of that
ea-gown?"
Il think you know everybody" says Lady
Dalruth, at the end of a long sentence, not
,ne word of Which he heard
Not quite all. l have not the happiness
OF knowing your pretty friend on the hearth
rug, or-'or the lady in the low chair over
there"
| NO? We'll, time will cure that. The lat
Ter is my cousin, Miss Montcith. You would
like to be introduced to her? Come, then''
Evelyn dear, let me introduce to you Sir
RaWdon Dare" she says moment later.
Miss Montcith, turning slowly, lifts her
eyes fully to Sir Rawdon's, and, after a calm
comprehensive glance, makes him the very
| faintest sautation.
II he had ever seen this girl before II is
certain that she shows no recognition of ever
having seen him. There is no surprised start,
no faintest blush, no betraying pallor Her
little bow is cold in the extreme, but never
theless civil. She answers his rather agitated
remark with the utmost composnre; it is
| some ordinary thing about the beauty of the
scenery round and hardly requires any ac-
i acknowledgement savea bare ''yes," to which
she confines herself. If, indeed, some wild
freak of Fate has suddenly changed the
Nurse Eva-for whom he has been so per-
sistently searching during all these past III
termnable mOnths-into this stately repeI-
lent girl before him, she is so clad in All inn
| penetrable armor of reserve that he cannot
pierce it
And, after all, is it she? Could even Fate
play such a trick? Is not all this rather some
cruelty of his imagination, born of his long
dwelling on one engrossing desire?
Once or twice during the evening he tried
to speak to her; but though she always an
swered him very gently, still her manner
was so cold as to check on every occasion
further conversation.
Dropping into the background, after last
defeat, he finds himself close to an old beau,
a certain Sir Harry Loune, who is well
known to everybody and to whom everybody
Is known.
Wouldn't look at you, eh?" says this old
gentleman, with chuckle. Don't take
that to heart; more than you lave got the
same tale to tell. She won't look at any one,
not even at the best parts. Pretty, isn't she?
Good form, eh2 Thing OF the season next
year, l shouldn't wonder. Lady Dalruth
wanted, right OF wrong, to Introduce her this
year, but she wouldn't hear Of it. Seems to
shrink from publicity. No wonder, too,
beauty has made itself so dooccd vulgar of
late" /" says the old gentleman, with shrug