The World. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1891-1896, 1892-03-18

| / should have gone first and made you
1 cling to fny-pardon me-coat tails
Very likely said Mrs. Hugonin.
| half laughing. But cant think II does
MS any good to talk It over now"
AFTER that said Kinnaird, pursuing
| his subject, II acted consistently on the
same mistaken theory. And when It
came to the question Of giving you up, ]
thought always Of you first. That was
why gave you up-which you natural
ly considered weakness"
It did not escape Mrs. Hugonin that q
dormant weakness Of her own was re-
viying under the continued stress Of this
absurd conversation weakness for
sentiment. But It was checked by her
vexation with her friend for breaking
their tacit understanding by the
feeling Of half contemptuous pity that
stole over her as he spoke.
Were she a man, she thought, she
would never confess at forty to the in
competence Of twenty-five. That Kin
naird did SO but absolved her again. Also,
she reflected, she had headache yester-
day, and therefore it was very lucky
this conversation had not been started
then, or she would have been much
more provoked than she was now.
II shall not stop you,p she said In
half mischievous tone. go on-I won't
be angry. You will perhaps admit that
II thereis anything ranking it is as well
for you to abuse me and have it over,
even after all these years, whose obitu-
aries You have written"
my dear, my darling" he said, his
strong hand clasping her SO quickly that
involuntarily her arm struggled like
birds wing to wrest itself away. at is
well for me TO tell the only woman ever
loved that love her still and do not
mean to let her go again.
arthur"
Margaret, | love you more than
ever"
1T is impossible"
II love you"
"You cannot, cannot be in earnest
she stammered. why, You have never
told me-
"Never-until now" he laughed. II
learned something when l lost you the
first time-my darling"
This said Mrs. Hugonin, partially
recovering herself, lis folly, Arthur,
and it Is most unfair.
sUnfair," he said, Ito want you for
my wife? No, you mean unfair to take
you off your guard. ! will not bubble
with your Words" he said, smiling.
May the hour and the scene suggest to
you all that they will. May they bring
you back to--it was twenty that you
We're when it all happened. Margaret,
when you were twenty-six went away
from the city Of all my hopes, but before
turned my back on it did rs many q
refugee had done before mel sealed M.
my treasures and hid them, and my
store is where left it. That is why
want You to marry me. All that had
looked forward to telling you-when
you were twenty-all that had to say
to you, the secret hoard that had been
piling up for our married life, is intact,
and now want you to share it with
me-" He paused a moment and then
went on: my dear, have simply had
to wait, that is all. But, please heaven,
we viii begin again
Poor MRS. Hugonin's breath came and
went, an unwilling messenger of pas
sion, or, it might be, of sentiment. ''Per,
haps ! was in the wrong" she said.
but why did not you think more of
YOURSELF"
Il am thinking Of myself now" said
Kinnaird.
Suddenly, as Mrs. Hugonin hung dis
tracted and in doubt. the cliff before
them rang faint and sibylline with an
echo. 1t was the town clock of the vii
lage striking over beyond the trees; they
could not hear it, but sent from ledge to
ledge in the still night air it struck sill
very and remote on the granite facade.
As it sounded they both started, he at
its elfin suggestions, she at its material
reminder
Good graciousr' she exclaimed, lit
is II o'clockr'
1T is, said Kinnaird.
And we must positively go back to
the hotel at once. We are scandal,
Arthur-and You know it, for saw you
start too" She began to smile do
you see nothing in the augury?" she
asked.
THE augury?"
I'VE are two old FOOLS" she said
Think Of my boy in his bed, Arthur.
Think Of my thirty years; be quiet, if
you please. choose to be thirty fol
formality's sake. 1t is only the night
and the moonlight. When II o'clock
strikes we recollect that we ought to be
respectfully at home. 1t is only an echo.
All, my dear. ~old friend, we have, had
our past and it is over.
Yours has been unhappy, and am,
oh, SO very sorry! But you are con-
tented now, and, what is more, you are
kind and strong; it is better as it is.
Take me back to the hotel, and we shall
beware of echoes in the future"
Il thought You said You had grown
II