Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1892-03-11
SIDNEY Lorraine,
CHAPTER II. CONTINUED.
Or, Tho Counts burden.

that. L want TO ask you other things.
Tell me-" her voice falling, who is shep
Have you--have you known her long?"
"The greater. part OF my life. She is
q ward of my fathers"
"Tell me more" as he paused, edo not
fear to talk to me. You see for your
self am quite calm again, and should
like to know everything. Oh, it will
come right again, never fear!-for you,
/ mean, when you go home, II you have
known her and loved her so long. This
will then seem an interlude."
He turned his eyes, full of pain. to-
ward her, where she stood above him.
Il can say nothing" he said, as he had
said once before; and, as the words had
touched her then, so they touched her
now.
"Do not mind me-" she cried, quickly
do not heed my words. am jealous,
you see, that she should have been so
much to you, and for so long, and that
should only have known you for a
fortnight. 1t is jealousy, miserable jeal-
ousy. But, Esme, she would forgive
me, think, even if she learns all this
In the future-if she knew, also, how
much have suffered tonight"
And too. You know that, do you
not? And it is all my fault. My suffer-
ing, and yours, and-all the previous
mistake-there is no one to be blamed
but myself"
1T was a mistake" she repeated,
drearily. "Ah, why do men make such
mistakesp Tell me"-speaking low and
breathlessly-"did you love her? What
am saying? OF course you did! You
have told her SO hundreds OF times
and-only month ago"
She was standing in the embrasure of
a hon6Q
together with certain despairing gest-
ure, born of her pain and her despair.
Hearing her, Count Lindenheim stood
up, and, coming near, put his arm about
her. He was SO tall that when he held
her thus in his firm hold she was power
less to move.
Listen" he said, in clear, determin-
ate tones, and with one burning hand
over her clasped ones. you shall hear
me once, and you shaft believe me. Do
not taunt me with the past; it was a
mistake. shall 60 back to her, shall
tell her so. She is a good woman; she
will give me back my freedom, If she
does"-his arm was now clasped more
and l will remind you of to-night-of
your tender words, your tender looks"
And if she will not?" 1t was Sgd
ney's voice that asked the question
Sydney's voice, so low that he had to
bend his head to hear what she said.
She felt the clasp Of his hand tighten,
but his voice was steady as he answer
ed, "Then in some happy future you
must forgetme." But his voice faltered
as he spoke.
II cannot, I cannot" she cried, and
he felt the quickened heartbeats, the
passionate vibration of her voice, "Oh,
come back to mel"
when L come back" he answered, II
will say all to you that am forbidden
to say tonight. When l come back"
his voice losing it's determination and
growing tender and loving, Il will ask
for the kiss that willnot take tonight.
Now, j will only" putting her at a lit
tie distance from him-"1 will only look
at you once more, and ask you to trust
me. 1t will not be for very long, but
trust me until you see me again. Will
you promisew
IL PROMISE" she answered. do not
believe me except when l say that 1
trust you, and will trust you until 1 see
you again"
He shivered little after her words,
and it served to remind her of what she
had wellnigh forgotten.
You ought not to be here" she said,
that, If Iwould listen to what you had
to say, you would take care of yourself
afterward. And it is not taking care
staying in this cold, dark room-is it?"
Il am happy here" he answered-he
was walking restlessly up and down the
long room-"and who knows" But
his words were cut short by cough.
Don't scold me-" he said breathlessly;
II told you l had caught cold. l will go
to bed, and begin to take care, or / shall
not be fit for my journey tomorrow"
Il do not think you will be fit any
how" she answered, looking anxiously
at him, "but it is as well to try. SO
goodnight; am going back to father"
He took her hand in his. "Good-
might" he said; then of sudden, kneel-
ing before her, he lifted it to his lips.
You are good" she said, gently, II
am sure you are good. Forgive me if
have been unkind. 1t is only because I
am so very, very unhappy" And, with
these words, she stopped and lightly
kissed the fair bent head.
But the Journey on which so much de-
pended was not to be taken on the NOR
row. The Fates interposed. and Sgd
ney Lorraine scarcely knew whether to
De most glad or sorry when she learnt
in the morning that there was no chance
of Count Won Lindenheim leaving their
house that day.
"Orhis ROOM" Mr.. Lorraine added.
~He has had bad night, and is fever
fish and i'll this morning. / hone" with
unusual sharpness, "that Mrs. Robert
son is sufficiently grateful for her INN.
and will not encourage its flower-gath-
ering propensities.
Sydney, who was walking across the
room, stopped and kissed the gray head.
"Ah! she was grateful, father, we
know that; and even we," with little
emile, would nat have had ii other
wise. Although" after a moments
pause, there certainly are great many
children in the world"
And only one Esme Won Lindenheim,
shY"
She did not answer; but moment
later began arranging some faint-scent-
cd cream-colored roses and fern leaves
n g glass.
you can take them up with you,
father, when you 60; it will show that
ne is rot forgotten. And tell him that
though grieve for the reason, still 1
am glad he ia not going away to-day.
You are listening, father, you will not
"Do ever forget?" And in proof that
he did not. he brought her later on, to
where she sat under the tulipa-tree
ldling, making no pretense even OF
working or reading, a folded slip OF pa