Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1893-12-02

Ah~ VfVhiuS PosScut ~
usually do, much too quickly for the young
folk who loved dancing. Miss Worthing-
ton did not find her aunt's guests, ut least,
outwardiy, very Objectionable. She did
not mix much with them, IL IL true; but
then she did not dance--her heavy dress,
her mourning, she told everybody who
asked her, debarred her from It; but the
bright dresses and brighter faces and the
music amused her, If they also saddened
her.
Philip Darlington scarcely left her side.
He danced few. times with those who he
thought had a claim upon his attention; he
worked hard to make all the rest sociable
with each other, and then he gave himself
up TO his cousin.
Florence was In her most softened mood
to-night--the mood in which he liked her
best; her beauty too was heightened by
her evening dress; and, but .or Philip, che
felt herself almost alone amongst them ali,
while the clinging dependence Of her man
ner gave her another charm in his eyes, il
that were needfui
The evening was nearly spent. Many Of
the guests had already gone, leaving the
room clearer and more pleasant for the re-
naming dancers. There was q small stove
in one corner Of the old fashioned passage,
and beside il sat Florence, and standing
near her was her cousin Philip. The mu-
sicians were playing the "Wiener Blut"
yaise OF Strauss. She loved music, and
the strain brought her not few sad men,
ories. She knew well when she had last
heard 1t, and her large eyes almost filed
with tears.
"Florenee, grant me favor" low
voice said in her ear, and she turned round
langnidly. "Dance this once with me
there are few people left, and they will not
notice YOU, or that IL IS the first time this
evening"
81 eannot--indecd l cannot! have re.
fused all the evening"" she answered; but
he detected hesitation in her voice.
''To please me-" Philip urged.
lie stood In front OF her with his arms
held towards her, and she looked eagerly
into his face. In another moment his arm
was round her--her pride, her pain, her
resolves, all scattered 10 the winds--and
she was flying around the ballroom with
Philip Darlington, reyelIing at last in her
old pleasure, which WAS enhanced by the
encirling arm, the close contact with Hle
man she knew now she loved dearly, hope
lessly, she thought. lie danced admirably
--Inore lightly more sympathetically with
the music, with more support TO herself,
30 she discoyered--than Lord Uarcourt
Vernon had ever done. 1t was the most
delightful, most estate. dance she had ever
known, as the music ceased, he guided her,
breathlcss, but with sparkling eyes and
flushed face, back TO her easy chair, muir
niuring, as he did so, few low words Of
thanks in her ear.
"How well you dance ~ she said. IL
had no idea you could
IL dare say not" he answered. "But
why should l not? / love music / have
health and strength, and am not very old
YOU give me credit for nothing, T lorence.
Aud yet don't know-you granted my Pc
titon, thinking that might disgrace you
with failure. Well, | sm thankful that
l have not done So"
Why did he always humiliate her so with
with his irony, with so contemptuously
reading her inner thoughts, and. worse
still, declaring thcm aloud: But there
was no peryersity troubling her tonight.
The remaining dancers were making the
most of their quickly passing evening;
Florence and Philip were almost alone.
"Shall tell you of the last time that
waltzed to tho same m,Isic:" she asked,
with scarlet cheeks.
.'lf it will not pain you; but, if IL does,
try TO forget it-tor tonight at least" he
said gently. But she went on unheeding,
rs If following her own thoughts.
at was the week before poor papa died,
at our own homse--it was with Lord Har-
court Vernon" Aud then she hcsitated
with . strange mingiiug Of pride and sin
certify, her face flushing deeply "That
day he was my afiianced lover" Her voice
trembled but not with the feeling he sus-
peetcd; and Phiiip Carrington's face turned
pale as marble.
"fou never told me this BEFORE" he said
quickly; "sureiy you might have had suiii-
cient confidence in some Of us TO trust your
secret 10 my mother or TO my sisters. Ii
scarcely seems right that the fiancee Of a
peer, Miss Worthington, should have come
amongst US under false colors, to be treat
ed as one of ourselves"
She could detect unmistakable signs of
anger in his voice, which he strove family
TO hide. She saw t,ie same signs in his
blanched face. Though his words might
be lightly construed, they were very sweet
to her. She looked up at him with irre-
pressible triumph in her face; and this he
was quick to discover.
"Ah, Florence, 1 see YOU pride yourself
upon being heart-slayer. But some yic-
tins may have strength to escape your
wiles; they may not all be vanquished---
some may seek something better than u
pretty face" He was standining close TO
her, his arms folded on his broad chest, his
face very set and cold, and the sunny light
had faded from his gray eyes.
"Gou are always so hasty with meal.
ways trying to put the worst construction
upon all | say or do" she said, in quick
low tones.
81 have not the smallest right to put any
construction, good or bad, upon what you
may do or say" he answered. "You are
your own mistress; but it seems to me if
my thoughts are anything 10 you, that you
might have favored some of us with the
knowledge Of your true position when YOU
honorcd my fathers house by accepting 1t
for your home; you have placed bur little
confidence in u.s." His voice lacked all
the tenderness Of tone she had always hth-
erto heard.
"wha il have told you my true posi-
tion." she asked.
"You cannot have done so.''
"Neyertheless | have" she answered
calmly.
..You have Just told me for the first time
that you We're affianeed. suppose that is
the orthodox term for young ladies in your
position." he said coldly.
~ told you that was--I certainly an
not now"
"Haye YOU Tilted him then.'
Her ewes fasresl at her questioner.
"You are certainly pi,iless In your ques-
tions. l did not jilt his lordship, but he
Tilted me--there is just that difference, II
YOU see any," she said; and her voice
trembled as she confessed to her humilia-
tion.
1t was as If sunlight suddenly flooded
the face before her; there was now only
wistful tender5aess lowering over 1t.
sfloreuce, will you ever forgive me?"
Philip Carrington asked bending downoyer
her.
~ do not know that | ever can," she
answered coldly. "You have forced my
secret from me only TO condemn me in ev-
cry way"
sand are you sure you cannot tell my
reason, Florence. Or is il that you wiiful.
| ly ignore Il. But forgive me, he pleaded
again. sYou have given me 80 much pleas
ure to-night--do not undo ii all. l was
wrong in all thought Of you just now
but you cannot realize what felt at stake.
Forgive me-" he said for the third time.
ellis submissiyeness was very sweet to
her, his pleading very difficult 10 resist
but pride and the pleasure she felt in tor
turing the man she loved were all-power-
full.