Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1892-06-23

CHAPTER XVIII, AND LAST.
"Mistress and the young ladies have been
gone two days to Eastbourne, and Mr.
Philip is abroad; but master will be home
some time tonight"
So Miss Worthington was informed, as
she stood once more, with sinking heart, in
the hall at Fulham, greeted only by Il
| hOusemaid, who seemed in no way lOath TO
welcome her, though the girls bright eyes
grew still rounder and brighter in WON
derment at the unannounced arrival of TIE
| important Miss Worthington, who roGf
| generally in Countess carriage, and must
be almost a Duchess at least, from all she
had cleaned regarding Florence's move
| ments.
81 suppose [ can stay, Lizzie-at least
to see my uncle?" Florence asked, smiling
in spite of herself.
And Lizzie, seeing mountain of boxes
| being piled iii the hall, wisely imagined
shat the |staying" meant at least for the
night.
"Oh, yes, miss! But you cannot have
roUr own room tonight, because that is all
done away with. Miss Ethel's is all ready,
if Tou would not mind"
Florence would not have minded occu-
| fying the leads themselves, so that she
| could be within the magic circle-the ha-
! ven she had once so dreaded and now so
| craved for. It's charm even softened her
| keen disappointment that more than few
| hours absence lay between herself and
| Philip. She knew now she might not see
him again for weeks; but the very flowers
| in the garden had seemed to nod welcome
to her as she passed them, and the walls to
smile down upon her, while the bright
1 crIOI al ha old foD oh
jects, rejecting the radiance back into her
own heart. The house night be deserted.
but Florence found no loneliness in it.
'sMaster will be sure to come, miss, to
night" said the girl, "but perhaps not till
late"
When ne came, she would tell him all
heS tale faithfully and fearlessly, Florence
! decided; and she did not dread his YER
dict.
Once more Miss Worthington seated her
self in her own especial chair near the VIM
| dow, where she might dream her day.
dreams for the next few hours, while Lizzie
| prepared tea for her. Once more her eyes
! fell upon the long garden path between
| the roses, where she had passed down with
| such an aching heart, where she Lad so Of
ten listened for Philips quick firm step,
| and the we'll remembered click ofRhis latch
| key.
Lizzie brought the tea, placingtit upon
little table near Florence, andE adding a
few words of consolation for her loneliness.
Still Miss Worthington dreamed on, until
| her dream seemed turned into reality.-
For a momett her hopes fell quickly, and
sharp fear came instead. She rose to fly
she knew not Whither-and then she
stopped.
| n nOto HOY
his journey to foreign shores when Flor
ence's eyes saw him once more between
the plants, when once more she heard
his weli-known step. She wondered if her
| brain deceived her. Was it Philip or his
| wrath? And then he stood before her.
She half crossed the room to meet him,
and then stopped, afraid. She saw no
welcoming love awaiting her, only keenest
wonder.
"Florencew
His voice expressed no JOY. If she was
there bodily, then only fresh qualms of
conscience must have brought her to tor
ment him again, TO disturb his peace when
| peace seemed near. 1t was intolerable, he
thought. He would not brook it. And
then his eyes softened inyoluntarily as they
rested on her face; but his greeting was
| not encouraging.
"FlorenCe," he said, "what on earth has
brought you back to an empty house? Ii
had only guessed you were here"
"You would not have come-I under
stand. Thank Heaven you did not know"
she said. "Philip, hear me. | have come
back to stay for good-always-fo ever
in some corner, if you will let me-" she adj
ded, humbly enough.
"Has Lord Harcourt Vernon Tilted you
| o5,,rt3 l,a, cl-o y ,f.aly III
Her pride was hurt.
''Phiip, never thought you could be so
ungenerous ~
He knew he had been unkind; but he
did not come nearer to her, he gave her no
aid in her distress. Putting down his hat,
he began his old pacing up and down the
room, but at some distance from her.
''Lord Harcourt has not Tilted me; but
have Tilted him, That is the difference
this time" she told him.
"And why? You seem to take great de-
light in trying to destroy mems happiness.
1t does not seem to me pretty pastime,"
he remarked
There was no sign OF yielding yet upon
his face.
".If you care to hear, l will tell you all
briefly" She was close to him; her band
resting upon his arm, her face bent down
anu crimson. ulIlp, l. Jtlbeo ull1 De-
cause I could not live my life away from
you. Does that confession content your
While humbing my pride, will it satisfy
your hearth" she asked, her face still
turned away. 81 have tried so hard to do
what have been asked. / have prayed for
courage to fulfil the brilliant destiny Of
fered to me, TO crafty my old ambition;
but L could lot. 1t was too sickening.-
You always dime between me and it. VIII
you trust me once more?" she said; and she
looked at him in fear.
"Ah, Florence, how can I have conf
dence in yoa? If you knew how l too
have prayed and struggled to forget you,
and hate You until began to think had
succeededr
"But you have not-you have notv' she
cried joyfully, glancing at his face and
reading in his eyes the old tenderness.
Once more her face rested upon his
breast, her hands upon his shoulders; but
still his arms did not enclose her. He felt
that his happiness might vanish at word.
CHOW can l trust you, Florence?" he
said. "Iou have played with me so reck-
lessly. How do know that you are not
here in some sudden caprice, to indulge
your fancy for last goodbye? Per-
haps you are married even," he added
quickly
:sIf you think that-if you can always
think So badly of me Yes, am mar
| .;oj f,tE She broLa off ;r ,o,l .I