The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1892-07-30
CHAPTER VII.
A Mon ETnE

Brian saw Margaret returning, and
putting down the book he had been try
Ing to read, he went into the hall to
meet her. depressing her nervousness
at his unexpected appearance, she
paused as he came up to her with the
words:
you have been so long, Margaret.
Did you enjoy your visit SO much2 Why
didn't you let those people wait, and
give me just a little of your company.
I haven't much chance. | am going
away tomorrow.
ITO morrow She grasped her raised
skirt more tightly, but no further COM
ment escaped her lips.
Taking this for Indifference, Brian
continued, after a brief pause: Il dare
say l shall never see you again. OF
course you will not regret that, but be-
fore go, l should like to know that you
forgive me. If you only knew how /
have suffered! If you could realize how
l still suffer, you would be kinder 1t
is SO hard to lose all, Margaret"
Have | been SO unkind? l am sorry
Have / not told, you That l regret;
with a bitterness l cannot express, the
conditions which make me mistress
here? If there is any way"
He interrupted her with passionate
reproach. You do me injustice. Do
you suppose | was abiding to the
money? l hate the very mention of it.
/ leave it out of the question. l am
thinking of you"
She tapped her foot with her riding
whip, and despite the effort to control
her countcnance, an incredulous eX-
preston passed over it.
You don't believe me- he cried
passionately. We'll, | deserve that at
your hands, but truth is truth. The
very sight of your kindness to others
maddens me- see how they are favored,
and l remember your hardness to me.
l envy the very children who speak to
you as you pass. They can be happy
without your love. | cannot. You need
not look your dislike, l feel it. | am
destined to offend you so much since |
saw you in that place where only my
evil fate led me, that feel no sacrifice
could be too great for your sake.
Isn't the sensation a novel one?" she
asked, steeled to hardness by some in
ward remembrance. Il believe we
agreed to leave me out of the question "
Brian ground his heel with an ex-
clamation of Impotence. 1T is useless
to hope he answered bitterly. You
y L,
but do not show such contemptuous in
difference"
1T is not charitable TO hate. and for
getfulness does not come SO easily as we
might wish.
No, he replied, stung to re;oinder.
Il have something to remember, too. -
She paled perceptibly.
You are generous" was her passion
ate answer. Now perhaps you will
allow me to pass.
"Ah, no, Margaret, not yet. | can t
see you &C from me 50. Forgive me for
what just said. | meant nothing.
spend half my time in regretting what
has gone before. | cannot stand your
anger. Why is all the gentleness in
your nature turned against me only"
4 do not know, she answered. half
bly,. Have you AN ahyt thhs S to ask me-"
Nothing that you will grant; unless,
perhaps, it is permission to ride with
you tomorrow. Will you allow me that
pleasure?"
"Iride early, she answered with hest
tation, but if you care to forego your
morning nap have no objection
Thank you. You will see how glad
ly I'll forego that morning nap.
Il really didn't expect to see you, "
Margaret confessed, when they We're
both in the saddle next morning. Il
Thought
How could you doubt me?" he inter
rupted, with some reproach. 81 am only
too happy to take advantage of this last
chance to spend little while with you
I'll soon be out of your life entirely. |
find it hard to tear myself away"
10 cin CT.
close beside him, but Margaret's face
was impenetrable.
What a glorious morning. she re-
marked rather irrelevantly. I'VE shall
have a delightful ride"
Are you so fond of riding" he asked,
noting her high color and flashing eyes
"Passionately. | feel so light hearted
when I am in the saddle. An hour like
this is particularly inspiriting. l love
the GOODNESS and the restful quiet, and
love the fresh morning air.
You love the night air, too"
Her face flushed at the words.
Il suppose you heard me in the gar
den last night?' she said. bending her
head with the preteXt of untangling her
horses name. The night was perfect,
and l couldn't withstand the tempta-
ton. l hope you will not speak of it
to Miss Hilton. She may begin to
worry her dear head about me, when
really | was only nervous and wake
full"
And you adopted that plan for WOO
ing sleep? Couldn't you have found a
more prundent and more effectual
one?"
Il hate prudence" she broke in, with
a suspicion of Impotence; "in fact,
revel in imprudence,
I've had ample proof of that, was
his tranquil reply. why didn't you let
me play Esculapius, if only to vindicate
my diploma, you know"
The idea didn't suggest itself to me,
and 1 don't believe I'd care to be ex-
perimented on, anyway. A diploma
isn't guarantee Of ability, you know. y
No one can accuse you of kissing the
barney stone he returned, rather
grimly. Sometimes l begin to fear
you are too truthful"
No one can be that. There is The
Cedars. No one about. | suppose Col.
Barton is an old friend of yours?"
If knowing me since l was knee
high TO a grasshopper implies friend
ship. he and l must be first-rate chums.
] don't fancy I'm an especial favorite
III llldt tilIttl.OI, however. he )
friend of yours, | am sure.
Why are you sure?"
Because no one can help being. You
have the faculty of making everybody
love you. and old men are no more proof
against it than young ones. 1t has
proved unfortunate in my case, but he
of course, is more favored. I'll begin
to wish myself old presently.
Thou Shoul1.t not have been old
before thou hadst been wise,' You
should take that saying to heart. As to
the Colonel, he has won his right to my
respect and esteem. He has been my
most helpful friend in times when l most
needed help. He is quick-tempered, to
be sure. and expresses his opinion with
,ut scruple, but | know him to be up
right honorable, and true as steel. I'd
trust him forever"
He has a stanch champion. I wish
you had half as good an opinion of me.
Speaking of his temper, he and grand
father ever agreed.