The morning call., 1892-01-18


The exquisite material and artistic shape Of
her gown set off her graceful figure TO the
utmost; the great hat, with its smOke-llke
floating feathers, seemed TO heighten every
charm Of the fair face, with its large brown
eyes AID It's framing or rich, curling, golden
brown hair.
And now [ must run and take of my
fnery, or it won't look fresh to-morro"
And she disappeared from the room.
After what we have just heard 1t Is
scarcely necessary to promise that Ealth
Brunt0n was selfish, vain and lli-natureu;
She was, in truth, one Of those VINO, not
content with possessing natures choicest
gifts, must needs TO try TO aggravate the I'M
happy lot of such Of her sex as ala not pos
seSs them. Out in the full sunshine her
self, she was not satisfied unless she had in
creased The discomfort of those who sat IN
the gloomy chilly shade. Her OWL sex IN
general dreaded her. With her great beauty
OF face and form, her cleverneSs, her capac-
ity for saying the cTueliSt and most cutting
things her OyeTweening and aggressive van
ity, she was one before whom most young
women struck their coOrs; and though
hating her, they must do 1t silently, Tor
hatred OF a beauty is bad form, and always
gels set down t. jealousy.
What a contrast was Beatrice BruntOn TO
her siSterl Tall, stately, daTk-halrtd
Beatrice. with her handsome pale face and
depp-biue eyes. Even in the first Hush OF
her youth, admired and c0uTted, She had
been so kind and gentle-had never cared
O. triumph meanly over her palmer friends.
''Eat so clever as Edith" had long been the
verdict on her, aud she had accepted II
quietly and meek.y. Mt that Beatrice
BruntOn was wanting IN spirit ears ago
her father AMI mother had had but too
strong proofs to the contrary. Those were
the days when Beatrice was surrounded by
admirers Gay times those. Beatrice,
blooming beauty in her teens-Edith,
little child in England with her aunts-
times in which fair Beattie never dreamed
of later DAYS in which an upstaTt sister,
grown to wOmanhoJd herself, should gl0e
and SOad ct her as IAN old maid"
And cut Of all her crowd OF admirers
Archie MllToy, young Lieutenant in the
LanceTs, had won her heart Archie, who,
though Weli-COnneCted, had nothing IN tie
world but his good LOOKS, his manly, faith
ful heart, and his slender pay, had dared
to fall In love with General BTuntOns beau
tiful daughter. BE was sent 70 the right
about by the General an ambitious,
worldly MANN such q fashion that ne was
not likely TO renew the attack. Only two
moro of those countless loving hearts that
have been torn apart by MammOn.
But though they could drive poor Bea-
force her to take one to their liking In
spite of their anger and their reprUaches,
she persisted in refusing the most adyan-
tageous offers. When General Brunton's
health failed, and the family came to
England, Beatrice felt that her last
hope Of seeing Archie again was wa,
gone. The General had six months
leave-but he took a much longer one, for
he died in England And the family's
palmiest DAYS died with him-a fact much
fretted over alteTWaTd by Miss Edith as
most unfair TO herself Mrs. BUuutOn had
a fairly good property Of her own, and the
General had some small private means {;
they were still very comfortably of. Mrs.
Brunton, always a delicate woman, had
been quite an invalid for the last few years.
She required much nursing and 8sSiduOus
attention and this all fell to Beatrice.
Beatrice is htied for that sort Of thing,
said Edith; or, # she dld not say II ~ 80
many words, thought ii aud acted u. ''She
doesn't fear II as she would # she were ten
years younger As she hasn't married, she
must expect 10 have ali that sort OF thing TO
do. ! have my career 10 make-Its not
likely Im going 10 lose my complexion and
and spoil ny nerves waiting on an invalid
Of course mamma wouldn't wish It. No
Beattie had her turn years ago IN Indla-lt's
my turn now. poor one enough compared
with heTs-but such as Il Is l must make
the very most Of it,"
And so she went out and about, accepted
this invitation aud that, stayed with friends
as often as they would have her-and left
tail. stately. gentle Beatrice 10 do all the
home duties and TO attend upon tie mother
whose thoughts were always with her
darling Edith.
Beatrice was good and accomplishing,
and bore the buTdsu OF life that must have
been unhappy very brayely. But there
we're times when her heart failed q little
4 De- e. an 4
Fancy Fair was one Of these. Edith had
been particularly trying 20 her al day
particularly rude and lnSultnE-and the
vain, bold speeches about the expected con-
quest Of this much-taiked-Of Lord Peters
court al tO-murTOw's bazaar had been almost
intOleTable TO bear in silence.
III she were married and away-if only
she were married Snd away" thought
Beatrice, as size sat At her window that
night and looked out into the summer dark
ness. Il am afraid it's wrong to feel so 20
a sister, but I seem sometimes as If l could
not stand it much longer"
She sat musiug IL the window for some
time-theu rose and went TO a small writing
case On a tabis, unlocked il, and from a
private drawer drew piece OF paper which
she gaZsd on long and sadly. How well she
remembered the finding IN 4 bouquet of that
little slip Of paDeT-tNe only mement0 she
possessed Of her time Of love and happiness
anu the ulLLt&lIA 81 leHIL IL CAuctQ ntIs
There had been little coOlness between
the aforementioned loYers-a dance too
many given 10 4 rival, or some such trie.
its foundatOu-aud when the flowers came
she searched among them for q message.
and her heart leRped as she discovered the
note.
"WiIl you bring these flowers to the ball
tonight? ! snail know then that ! am for
given" Surely that time is not gone She
is still al the baIl-the crash and wall Of the
brass music in her ears, the measured tread
Of the walters and the rustic and sweep OF
the dresses; and she is flying round with
the crowd, her 19-year-old heart thrObDing
with life and JOY, her hand on some ones
shoulder. and some ones dear voice whis-
pering, How can l thank YOU for bringing
MY flowers aud ending my misery by for
giving me?'
No, no; that night is gone, indeed; buried
beneath many hard lonely road. The
joyful giTl-heart has long been a sOTT0wful
one; the brightness Of the girl-beauty IS
dimmed; and II is pale, sad Beatrice that
bends over that weil-worn slip of paper and
cries az she presses her lips TO it: "Arcbiei
Archiel they we're cruel to part Us. We
might have been so happy?
To be continued.
---
SUNK HIS VESSEL TO SAVE HER.
Cantafn C1arIx ~ Gid kDrfn1 AdoDt. .,