The sun. [volume] (Morris, Stevens County, Minn.) 1882-1895, 1893-01-05

L
-she will never care. /"
"Well, now, Surrey, tell you what.
AS your friend, advise you to call
in your little loves and let this charm
| er CO."
Surrey shook his head.
"You might as we'll advise the flow
ers not to grow where the sun Shines"
he said.
Akron waited few minutes. go
home and dress" said he then. ~
have always said that if saw q fell
low committing suicide shouldn't be
the one to hinder him. She is to be
at Mrs. Farleigh- f arleigh's tonight.
Cotillon at l. Aleck Palgrave has
hurt his foot. am on such terms
there that can take you in his place.
God forgive me! know am helping
to ruin YOU"
81 am ruined now" said Scott,
wringing Akron's hand, and in the
moment feeling that he was lifted from
despair to joy.
Could it be that presently, when
some hours had fled like q flash, this
radiant creature was in his arms, with
her breath as sweet as wild-rose
breaths; that, however timidly and
reverently he clasped her waist, that
at his touch sudden flush had swept
| up that cheek unused to color; that
those gauzy robes of hers swirled
around him? Heaven knows that in
| conference he was uttering as TO the
cruel fate that had kept him at his
desk; as to the eternity that existed
between Saturday and Thursday; as
to the wretch he was.
The wretch he was! Did he accuse
himself OF dark, Manfred-like sin?
| Was there an element of the .ro-
mantle, the mysterious, about him?
Perhaps that was not the finishing
touch; all the poor lad meant was
that in his position, and with his mar
row income, he had no right to think
of this dazzling child of wealth; but
somehow-such fools girls archie
went over to the unknown in her
imagination, and was magnifed in the
mist of that region of space. It served
the purpose, at any rate, of making
her think about him more in the in.
tervals of meeting him, and she met
him everywhere; for wherever she was
to be, there, with Akron's help, he
achieved invitations, watched for her
coming with a glitter in his eye, and
II she did not come, went away early,
feeling life desert. But it did not
take many waltzes with him,
many strolls through greenhouses,
| many sherwets in half-curtained cor
ners, for Rosamond to see that Scott
Surrey was no hero of dark romance,
but an honest, wholesome lad, fit to
be the high ideal of the most innocent
girl alive. And just as she had dis
cerned the truth Scott Surrey had
made up his mind to disappear out of
her horizon, even if it cost him his
| life.
They had been dancing together; he
had seen her cheek fling out the BAN
ner of pale, sweet bloom with which
now it always saluted his coming, and
she had given him her "order of
dances" to write his name where he
would; and later, in an interval of the
wild, delicious waltzes, she had said,
| when he asked her to walk with him,
eve will 60 where it is cooler" and
led the way up from the ballroom to
the large, dim library, it being the
house of a relative where she was fa-
miliar.
"Ah," she said, "this is cool and
restful; and she drew off her gloves,
and, throwing herself into ali arm
| chair, motioned him to another.
He took, instead, a tabouret at her
| feet. How beautiful she was there,
in the half-light of the long, dusky
room, with all her rosy, silken mus
Inns flowing round her, and the gar
land of gray-green poppy-leaves she
wore. Was this the unapproachable
goddess of that morning in the church,
her shining eyes beaming on him now,
her smiling lips
A SILVER ran through him as he sat
there, his elbows on his knees, his
head between his hands, while he COW
cred her with his forgetful gaze; while
| faro and faint the dance-music came
in gusts whose sweetness was lost in
melancholy.
"Why do you look at me SOP" she
asked, suddenly, with half-frighten-
ed foreboding.
Because, "said he, "Inever shalllook
at you any more. Because l have
been fool, mailman, and have just
come to my senses, and am going to
leave you before it is too late-for
you, I meant is too late for me al
ready. 1t was too late for me when 1
first laid my eyes upon you, and my
whole heart became yours"
II don't know what you mean," she
cried. "Why must you leave me,
them"
"To-day," he said, "your step-fath-
er came to my office, and told me that
l must"
GLOW perfectly infamous!"
"He was not rude, nor, can l say,
unkind. He said if you married with
out his sanction you should never
have farthing of his money; and he
would not sanction my pretentions;
and poverty would be your unhappi-
ness and DEATH"
"Pshaw!"
ri had not thought of his mouey!
had thought only of my poverty.
and of you. But he made me see the
misery l might be the means of entail
ing you. He mademe seey your wretch
edness, your regrets, your-your-ruin
as a poor mans wife. But before I
| -somewhere-into outer
darkness-I shall give myself the one
joy of telling you that I love you, and
you only, and that would die for
your
"You had a great deal better live
for mel" said my young lady, coolly.
And she held out her hand, and Sur
rey seized it and covered it with kiss
es. Then he stood up to go.
"Your father drew for me the pict-
ure of the life you had lived" he said;
"the Injuries to which you were so
used that they were the demand of
second nature; and blushed and re-
coiled when he asked me how much of
that life, how many of these luxuries
my 81, 400 salary could procure for
you"
"Did you say ST., 1902" said Miss
Rosamond, briskly, and in the most
matter-of-fact tone. "Come over to
the table under the lamp" And, still