The Red Cloud chief., 1892-06-10

loved. And I mn not unambitious; I,
too, have dreamed Of a higher life, and
have striven after my ideal in my W
way"
I'm your W way, yes: but not In my
way" he answered quickly, with an
angry glitter In his blue eyes.
perhaps not quite in your way,
Michael. I cannot bclievo-I never have
bclicvcd-that success is the sole object
Of existence. Nor do l think that sue
cess alone ever yet made n a or
woman happy. George Eliot says that
we can only have the highest happi-
ness, such as goes along with being a
great man, by having wide thoughts,
and much feeling for the rest Of the
world as we'll us ourselves"
George Eliot was q mere dreamer.
with the gift Of telling her dreams in
good English" he cried, impaticntly.
IL suppose that idiot, Samuel Wake,
has been giving her books to you. and
making you more sentimental and
cloudy than you were before. Why
don't you read Smiles aud clear the
mist away from your brain?'
~ have read Smiles, Michael" she re-
piled quietly. Sand I nm weak enough
to ARE more for the Robert Stephenson
who took thought for little children
and birds, than for the great inventor.
The very side Of him that you think
lowest. seems to me highest. Remem-
Der I am not d%cpreciating his splendid
energy, ! only mean that il was not the
noblcst part Of man, nor could it, with
out other qualities. have made him real
ly great"
Tho sparkle of wrath had died out OF
Michacl's eyes; but his face expressed
q cold contempt.
eve are wasting time here" he said,
frigidly. ~ will take you back to your
uncle's house, Olive; and then I will 60
home to my W room. This hot day
has given me n headache"
She was anxious and remorseful in an
instant, ready to blame herself for not
having seen that he was suffering. She
had been wrapped in q happy dream
under tho trees, and oil the while he
had been sitting by her side, feeling
weary and i'll! And then she had wor-
ried him with her talk, and made the
headache worse.
'Oh! Michael" she said, rising, and
looking at him with q glance that few
men could have met unmoved; ~ am
afraid I have been selfish. II was for
my sake that we came here, dear; and
you have paid dearly for the pleasure
you have given INC. What csn l do for
your
Nothing" he answered, rs coldly rs
before. II shall 60 to my o and
rest. Mine Is q Woodworking brain,
and anything In the shape Of q dispute
always disturbs me-"
"Denr Michael, II any words Of mine
have disturbed you I am more than
sorry. As to disputes, wo will never
have any more. We are always one in
heart aro we not?"
AS she spoke she chung Ia his arm for
q second, trembling, and with her heart
beating. 10 disongaged himself ut
once.
'Pcople nrc looking ut u.s." he said.
"Do remember that we are in Kew gar
dens, and not in Eastmeon folds! am
In no mood now for scenes and senti-
mental Talk, Olive"
She looked al him again once, stead
lily and wistfully, with eyes that seemed
TO read him through and through. Then
she Walked on quietly by his side, pale,
but oaim; and troubled him with no
more loving words or inconvonient
demonstrations.
The Sunday throngs were crowding
oil about Thorn; fathers and mothers
With thoir children, girls walking hap
PLY, sometimes nd1sily, with their
swsethsarta Their voices and laughter
seemed 70 come from an outside world
In which Olive had nc part She scarce
ly know whether they werc phantoms
or living people; only Michael, with his
cold set face, was miserably real. lie
would not look ut her, nc did not speak,
and they reached the station and got
into a train In silence.
CHAPTER TX.
'unEAr SrEIzNes bath she OF HER OWN"
Uncle Wake was alone In the houss