Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1892-03-24
rom last YER XI-Continued.

inued from last TER xI-Continued.
nat purpose Mary added, as Mrs. Thorn
I'd with the glass Of milk and
OCTOBER Is wedge of gingerbread, this
.naf,i re- call good"
,,,,,a YOU know, she continued, after a
.e moments silent enjoyment of her
II believe Weston has
,rr ally grown since I saw it last"
ii. s'I don know about that, Miss, but 1
, do know we are improving wonderful.
SO many city folks come here for the
summer. Next year We are going to
have another hotel, and everybody that s
got a spare room is set on taking
boarders.
"Are you?" asked Mary, setting down
her empty glass.
"Oh, no, Miss. I haven't a corner.
Besides, I'm too far from the town.
Take some more milk, Miss Mary"
mo, thank you. You gave me such a
large glass" She walked to the win
dow as she spoke, and glanced down the
broad, shady street.
You have some very pretty girls, .
she added, after a second, as her eye
followed two young ladies on horseback.
Are those two natives or visitors?"
Them" said the woman, looking in
her turn. They live here. That tall
ones Miss Ellis. She goes to New
York good part of her time. She's
going to be married in a few months"
All, is she? How happy she must
feel. Looks, [ mean"
People think she has reason to
be happy. She's going to do very we'll.
They say Mr.. Beverly is a"
Mr.. Who?" cried Mary, turning
quickly.
"lLr. Beverly" repeated Mrs. Thorn
son, slightly surprised at Mary's tone.
=" A mighty nice young man. He doesn't
live here, of course; he comes from New
York, and daresay when they're mar
ried they'll go there altogether"
Mary still stood by the window. She
could feel her knees tremble under her,
and a STANCE, numb sensation creeping
about her heart.
will you tell me this-this gentle
mans name?" she asked, after second,
striving to make her voice calm and to
keep all emotion from her face.
christian name?" repeated the wom-
an, knitting her brows in her effort to
remember I've heard it, I know, and
yet [ can't, somehow, recollect."
An uncommon one, perhaps, sug-
geSted Mary, in a strange voice. 1t is
nothing like-Jack."
There was a slight lingering over this
name, as though she half feared to let it
leave her lips, but Mrs. Thomson took it
up eagerly.
That's it, Miss" she said, with de-
cision. Sometimes you know thing,
but can't just think at the time, and if
somebody mentions it-Ah, Miss,
what's the matter? Are you ill?"
Mary had clutched the window for
support, but at the woman's question
she stood upright again.
No, 10, not ill.," she answered, pain
fully Il may be tired. I'll sit here for
few minutes, then l must be going"
You look rather pale, was the some
what anxious reply. Perhaps l might
get something to make you feel better. !"
Thank you. Nothing could make me
feel better now. think | am rather in
terested in Miss Ellis. Are you sure
about this engagement, and that his
name is-Beverly?"
Yes, Miss. Everybody here knows
it; and as for Mr.. Beverly I've spoken
to him. He's nice in his manners
good-looking, too. l saw him not two
hours ago. He was with Miss Ellis
then"
y
then, was the reason for his going to
New York How often during the hours
that she was not with him had he come
here to be with her?
OF course he had known her in New
York, had perhaps been engaged when
he came to Robin S Rest. She had served
to amuse him. The world would call it
a tiirtation-nothing more. He had been
amused, and she had been a fool to
think him III earnest.
She could realize now how unreserv-
eddy she had given her heart to him;
how utterly she had staked her life's
happiness ON the weight OF his word.
He had seemed so true, so earnest.
Even in the face of such overwhelming
testimony it was hard to doubt him
while she remembered his words and
chances. Mary never knew how she
reached home. Her pale cheeks awak-
ened her grandfather's concern at sup
per. She pleaded headache as cause,
and as soon as possible went off to bed.
The night was filled with miserable
thoughts. Hour after hour passed, and
she tossed restlessly on her pillow. At
one moment she would tell herself that
she no longer cared; that Jack had quite
passed out of her heart and life; and at
the next she would pray that her walk
and its bitter revelations might prove
only dreadful dream. Oh, if she could
but wake to find the world as bright,
and herself as happy, as hopeful, and as
trusting as she had been but twenty
four hours before.
But morning found her sick and faint
from want of rest and sleep.
L must get up, though, she said to
herself They must not know No
body must know. He has stolen my
happiness from me. Yes, stolen it. I
was so contented here with grandpa un-
til he came, and now Everything is
so different. All, he had so much;
why should he have taken the only
thing | had?
Il won care, though, she added, in
dignantly, dashing a tear from her eye.
L must not give up to this weakness.
II l don't hate him, must despise my
self. | must-I do hate him.
Breakfast proved most trying ordeal