The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1892-11-19
VOL. XXVIII.-NO. 3.

these papers about, if you feel tired? 2"
"Oh, 1 must do something, L answered,
mendaciously. at amuses me"
"Does it? Perhaps it amuses you too
much. You ought to be glad that l have
come to be a substitute in the way of
amusement"
He spoke gayly, but there was something
troubled in his manner, which I, in my pre-
occupation, put down to the impression my
comfortless home must be producing on his
mind
But when he began to talk and to ques-
ton me about Duncan saw that the bur-
den on him was not ours, but his own, and
that, though he tried to appear interested
in my answers to his questions, his thoughts
were straying to something else.
Presently he got up; walked to the era
die, and looked at my quiet, little wan baby.
"What have you called it, Sylvia % he
asked Then, before l could answer
almost-he went on audrey is not so
brave as you are, Sylvia
/ looked at him. | saw that he was 60
ing to tell me his trouble.
''It is strange that one so calm as she is
should not be braver,' he continued. "Do
you know why have come to see you?
Naturally you would not require any rea-
son, but there is one, and | am going to
tell you all about it. | have grown tired
of waiting for Audrey. Perhaps you do
not know that she made me promise to
be my wife some day-long before yon were
engaged to Duncan. She made great
secret of it, and said l must be patient.
Heaven knows | have not been impatient.
but time is going on, am eight-and-thirty;
Audrey is past her first youth. What is
the use of waiting? Andrew Allison will
never learn to like me now. We are only
wasting our lives. | have been thinking
this out ever since your marriage; and the
other day | went to her, and asked her if
she loved me enough to keep her promise
without delay. Sylvia, can you believe it,
poor Cyril his voice faltered-"You
could not guess
81 think l can, | replied. Il am sure
she refused to.
Worse than that.
you mean that she has given you up.
"She really has, Sylvia | cannot believe
it; she gave up ME as if it did not hurt her
bit, and now"
You have not come To ask me use my
influence with her Cyril" interrupted.
He shook his head No, indeed, |
haven't. | have not allowed myself to
cling to any vague hope. thought |
should like to tell you all about it, and TO
bid you goodbye. couldn't stay in Lon
don. | have left Allison and l am going
to America l came just for old times
sake"
"You wouldn't care to tell me what she
said ?" / hazarded the words timidly; l
was, in truth, very eager to know how
Audrey could have accounted for her reso-
luton.
u will tell you all you care to hear,
She said that your uncle had told her
plainly that she might marry me es you
had married Ferrars, against his will, but
she added, she had no mind to 90 and live
paupers life-to be in debt; to be secuted
by respectable people-good gracious, Syl-
via, what am l saying? I beg your par
don. Don't cry, dear: what a brute you
must think me r
But it was no use telling me not to cry.
| was too weak to restrain the foods of
tears that lay so near the surface always
now.
"Who told them all that?' | sobbed
aWho told them that we are in debt, and
that people are turning their back on us ?
How could Audrey know it and never send
me word of sympathy? How dare I'm
Gle Andrew know it and never send us a
shilling? Oh, Cyril, he is a wicked, cruel
man. He has been the means of breaking
your engagement, because he knew that
Audrey was too cautious to be driven into
marrying against his will His object is to
avoid any necessity that might arise for ac-
counting for our fathers money"
had left off crying now-the anger in
my heart had scorched up my tears.
Il do not think you are quite just in
what you say, Sylvia" Cyril said, as
paused for breath. "You knew you were
breaking with your uncle when you mar
ried, It is not likely that he will make ad
vances to you; other men in his place
might but he is too obstinate. As to Au-
drey, | feel sure she is acting on her own
conclusions-her love for me has worn out
perhaps, even, she cares for some one
else. :"
He spoke half interrogatively.
That is possible" l replied, but ! am
not in Audrey confidence | never have
been. | know this much about her
though it is a hard thing to say of ones
sister-she is IA very cunning woman; she
will stay with Uncle Andrew to the last;
she has no heart to break, nor will she care
if yours it broken. When she is growing
old and worn out Uncle Andrew will die
and leave her all the money. he loves so
dearly-that money which partly belongs
to me. 1t is too shameful If he has
heard of our poverty, does not his con-
science tell him that our creditors have