The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1895-05-07

| O culver passed over her, ana her lace
took on marble coldness for she had
seen Stanley Mayhem stoop over Flea
nor Wells-seen her raise her pretty,
graceful head, and seen their lips
meet. ---.-----------as----I
Herself they had not seen. Pool
Nettie! She turned away. Her
trembling hands were clasped so tight
" that it hurt her her breath came in
little, miserable gasps.
She hardly knew what she was do
ing, when she passed out across the
! broad piazza, and, bareheaded, went
oropingly out into the thicke1ing
dusk.
To be alone-to get away from every
E, ! body and everything-that was he. be-
Sildered longing.
'sHo must have come by the sevel
O'Clock boat," she said to herself. me
ohanically, again and again.
And that was at first as far as her
thoughts would go; for she could not
believe what she had seen.
.'No, mol" she whispered, wringine
her hands. cit wasn't Stanley. No,
mol" as though every feature of his,
every look, were not familiar and dear
to her.
She found herself mounting tho hill
and sinking down on the rustic seat
where they had sat together so often.
And there she pressed her face on the
rough wood and tried to think.
Think? She could not. One thing
blinded her to all besides and shifed
thought-ths remembrance of that
which the mirror had refected-of
that sight of the man she loved and
had trusted tenderly, bending to
caress another woman.
He did not love her, then. She was
q plaything merely-asource of H'hlm-
sical amusement for him during, the
idle hours of the summer. He had
not cared for her-he had not been
serious. He had meant to make love
to her while the mood was upon him,
and to break the bond when he should
tire Of it. Else could he be making
love 70 another woman?
And she had cared for him SO deeply
her faith in him had been so entire!
And her love for him had SO filled her
heart apd her life! Oh, it had been
no light matter to her.
And now-what? She could not
find relief in tears, as she asked her
self that wrenching question.
She felt frozen, benumbed. She
sat motionless, and stared up at the
6rst faint star in the gray skin.
.'Nettiel" a voice called, :nlpera-
lively and half impatiently.
It was Stanley Mayhew's, and he
followed it. He came hurryiag up
the bank.
''Mrs. Loney told me she saw you
coming up her. What on earth
You must have known I'd be there.
Or, no; T told you the eight o'clock
boat, didn't 7? Well, I got through
before I thought I should, and here I
an"
He threw himself down beside her,
shAdowy form in the dimness, and
patted her hand by way of greeting;
nor did he notice that she drew it
away quickly and far.
He was laughing, and when ne had
paused moment to get his breath, he
began to explain why.
sNow, what do you think?' he de-
manded. "Now guessl I've just seen
Eleanor Wells. What do you think
!, he told me?"
Nettie shivered.
swell, they're engaged" said hel
lover, with an air of triumph.
What did he mean? she wondered
But she did not care. What difference
lid it make what he meant? What
Inference could anything make now'
"They're engaged" he repeated.
''The trouble is oveS, the storm is
ended, and they've got into smooth
waters, with the matrimonial port in
plain sight. Of course she's told you
al about Leonard? Talked to you
>bout him for hours, I suppose?"
s:No?' he went on, though Nettie
had not spoken. 81 can't believe it
And you such chums!
"Well, I've told you about Leon
ard, YOU know-my next older brother
who went to California in April to
manage mining syndicate-the cleV-
arest fellow you ever saw.
"Wen, he and Eleanor were en-
gagged. Really, didn't she tell you?
Why, that's part of our family record,
for it's an old affair. The Wells chill
dren and 'we uns' used to pay dolls
and tag together: you know, and it has
always been settled thing, somehow,
that Eleanor would marry Leonard
when they got old enough, because
hey were always sweet on each other.
,s'Wel, they had been regularly en-
zaged SQg 9 Iesr OF 50. -Ebap i9s and