The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1894-05-10
bored. Why was it Mr.. Maynard's So

|
But yet it seemed so strange to meet
everywhere; to exchange a smile OF ley
GOODNESS and a courteous bow of for
NAL greeting and feel that all was over.
| don't think l quite realized it until
the day Mr.. Maynard told me his en-
gagement to Irene Brooks was a posi-
tive fact. l did not think he could
have quite forgotten in three short
months. He always admired her, l
knew, and as she is meek and amiable,
she is just suited to such a bear. For
my part, hate married men and mar
ried life, and thought, with inward
congratulations qf the many years ere
/ should take the fatal plunge.
But my congratulations vanished
when l awoke, one morning, with the
leaden consciousness that l had given,
the night before, a favorable answer to
viii Maynard's wooing. l did not
mean to say Yes" did not care for
him when he was away from me; but
he was so earnest, so determined,
scarcely knew l had consented until
felt his lips press mine and he had
slipped glittering stone upon my
finger. 1t was there, as l awakened
so that knew it was no dream. All
day l caught it's sparkle; all day it
served as witness to my mad folly.
But when, that night, / entered Mrs.
Somers' drawing-rooms, leaning on his
ARM he looking down on me with a
sort of possession-look, l fancy, l
caught Clarence Withers' eye, full of
| a,,l f,,n g. ;,,1r
flashed back equal contempt. am sure
l felt it Had he not first set me the
example? l was only following in his
footsteps, carrying out his pet theory
that the man always should precede
the woman and she bend to his lordly
will.
At last the summer came. What q
long, long winter it had been, and how
glad was to see once more the birds
and flowers, thought, as 1 wandered
one lovely morning in June away from
the gay party who were spending the
day among the woods and trees, reve1-
ing in picnic of the good, old-fash-
toned sort. l hate picnics and always
did, and | was glad to have escaped
them all. So l wandered on, STOPPING
now and then to pluck wild flower or
an exquisite fern, until on the verge of
a steep rock, my eye caught bunch of
loveliest anemones. sprang forward,
eager to grasp it-too eager, alas!- for
my foot tripped and l fell forward
upon the sharp stone, cutting all ugly
cash in my forehead. think it stunned
me for the moment. l must have faint
ed; but, surely, ere l opened my eyes,
caught the sound of breathless tones
exclaiming: MY God, my darlingr'
and felt hot kisses rain on cheek and
lip
Slowly I Enclosed the sealed lids and
gazed into the pallid face of Clarence
Withers. My strength came back with
my pride and, drawing myself away,
said:
| do not be alarmed, Mr.. Withers, it
is all right now. Did you imagine you
held Miss Brooks? Allow me to re-
lieve you"
mo, Miss Brooks is fortunately in
place of safety. 1 am glad to see your
accident was SO trivial Good morning"
| And SO he left me. We're those cold,
Indifferent tones the warm, loving
ones l had listened to but moment
before? No. l had been dreaming;
and, staunching the blood with my
handkerchief which still flowed freely,
| walked on, and soon stumbled upon
Mr. Maynard. Fastening to find me.
Oh, how his words of pity and dis
tress grated on my ear. l answered
him petulantly, and begged to be taken
home. My head ached. He ordered
the carriage at once. l would not al
| low him to accompany me and, with
anxious solicitation, he tenderly babe
! me good-by, closed the door upon me,
and l was again alone,
All night l lay and tossed upon my
bed, and morning found me feverish
and restless. but with new, undaunt-
ed resolution, that ere l slept again l
should have returned VIII Maynard's
ring, and asked him to give me back
my plighted troth.
Yet the words came with a hard
struggle, and the tell-tale blood Grim
soned my cheek and brow as l stood be-
fore him and acknowledged could not
marry him.
DO you not love me, Alice?" he
said.
mo, Mr.. Maynard. You have been
very good, very kind, but cannot love
you"
why, then, did you consent to be
my wife?'
His tones were calm now, with the
calmness which precedes the mountain
storm, when all nature is hushed, and
not a leafet stirs, not even blade of
grass trembles, until with mighty
roar heaven discharges its artillery, and
| the hills quake.
'Oh, do not ask me. do not know.
l cannot tell you"
do you mean that these few months
| have been farce in which you and
were the chief actors? Who amongst
your friends have been the audience to
watch this poor puppet-show, in which
your experienced hands have pulled the
strings? Do not look indignant. You
have no right to Indignation. Have
you never loved me?''
Never, Mr.. Maynard, as 1 should
have loved you. You came to me at a
time when my heart was hungry Your