The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1894-08-15
iBeauchanpe S Double
-OR-
THE PRIMA DONNA.
A Story Of Mystery, Love and
Devotion.
BY DAVID LOWRY.
CHAPTER XVII.
uSpRENEDITATED.

eQOulQ U6 UTl6l. uo odu OfOS 0udu
looked into his when he bade Miss Beau
champe adieu, affecting cheerfulness
he maintained throughout the interview,
haunted him. All his sympathy he said
to himself won't out to this young girl.
It was torture to see her weep. He felt
like shielding her from even the shadow
of danger. Yes, his stay must neces-
sarily be short, for there was so much
to do.
Miss Beauchampe's eyes were swollen
when she looked at him.. She advanced
at first eagerly, but the moment her lit.
tie hand rested in his. Livingston knew
that she was disappointed. Disappoint-
ment was depicted in her lucid eyes; in
the sudden averting Of the well-poised
head.
Not word was uttered for at least q
minute. Livingston's wits seemed to
fail him. He stood, feeling as he re-
flected afterward, "like an awkward
schoolboy." Finally he spoke.
at is not so bad. To be sure, we have
not found Lester, butt"
Sho interrupted him, speaking in q
calm tone that was more discouraging
than her swollen eyes. IL did not eX-
pect good news. hoped-that was all. /"
@Don'-now, don't give up like this, !"
said Livingston suddenly, as he felt her
hand slipping slowly out of his own. II
have good news We are quite sure now
that we have clue to work on"
"You do know then. Is he-is my
brother alive2 You have heard from
him? He is well? He" The hope
faded out of her eyes as she searched his
face. Then she turned aside quickly.
Il will never, never see him again"
Her attitude more than the words. and
the exquisite pathos in her tones, sent
the blood coursing swiftly through Liv-
ingston's veins. Then he shivered-
absolutely shivered. What if her words
should come true?
+ at is not so bad as that, tell you,
Miss Beauchampe. What more he said
he could never remember. He realized
suddenly that she did not hear word
he uttered; then he became dumb until
the paroxysm Of grief ceased. She sal
down, and began to sway herself from
side to side. Livingston was at loss to
know what to do or say. Man like, his
feelings found vent in impulsiVe action.
He put out hand to quiet her. AS his
hand touched hers, thrill such as he
had never experienced passed over him.
The. feeling was ineXplicable, new to
him. He addressed her in tones such as
q mother employs to soothe child.
I He was surprised at his own voice.
Afterward he marveled at the foolish
things he said, but he speedily discover
cd the inadeQuacy, the utter weakness
of words in moments of great trials.
Miss Beauchampe rocked herself and
gave way to her feelings, seemingly un-
mindful of his presence.
"There never was dearer brother.
He denied, himself everything to crafty
me. There was nothing he could do for
me that was too much. The best, the
wisest, the tenderest Of brothers gone
gone, may be lying in the water, or
buried to conceal horrible crime. And
] will never see. never hear him again.
Alone-all alone"
y sDon't say you have no friends!" Liv-
ingston exclaimed, when he could listen
silently no longer He grasped her wrists
She did not pause Still she moaned,
,bewailing her brothers death; her utter
loneliness until in sheer desperation Liv-
ingston caught her arm, and held her
quiet He was knee,ing beside her with
ont knowing it.
"Miss Beauchampe, listen. You must
listen. Suppose Lester were i'll, and
needed your attention."
"You are keeping something back"
She flashed strange suspicious look on
him that cut him to the heart @What
is it? Tell me the whole truth now
This was said with quiet dignity, as
she stood up. He rose, too.
"As true as there is heaven, I am
keeping nothing back. But you are
working yourself into Illness"
at is better so. I want to die I do
not want to live if he is dead"
THAT is wicked You ought not to
say that You have friends-you will
never want for friends, for anything,
Miss Beauchampe.
AS she looked long and earnestly at
him, he felt his cheeks flame, then a
sudden sinking Of the heart caused the
blood to recede from his cheeks. Liv-
ingston put hand to his forehead. 1t
felt cold and moist. He stammered
something, paused, met her look with
one as level, and said impulsively, not
pausing to consider his words
@Let me be friend. Why not? was
! am true friend of your brother. I
will serve you with my life, Miss Beau
champe, if necessary"
The words were spoken in low tones,
but the vehemence of his manner star
tied her. She put hand out to check
him, but he caught it quickly and held
It
u did not come here to say this at all
1t was uttered without thinking. Par.
don me. But it Is the truth. I have
neypr felt the same since I first saw Won
] came here on another erraud. but am
not sorry l spoke my thoughts. I tell
you you are wrong. Your brother,
believe, will be found soon. I cannot
give you any proof now-only do not
despair, because am sure that ne will
soon be restored to you. And until he
is"-he ventured to take hand that
was not withdrawn from his caressing
clasp-"permit mo at least to perform
the duty friend should in an extremity
such as this"
"Iwiil try togovern myself hereaf;er,n
shc said. "You must think me childish
to yield to my feelings"
II think" said Livingston, admiringly,
"such devotion as you exhibit for your
brother is sacred. You will hear from
mo very soon. Only remember all that
human power can do will be eXerted to
find your brother"
He felt like kissing her hand, but
he wisely restrained himself, bowed, and
left her. When he glanced aths watch,
he b.ushed. His ten minutes werd
heightened to three-quarters OF an hour.
He excused himself, be sure. He re-
f1ected that it would have been heartless
-crnal-to withdraw until he had made