The Cook County herald., 1895-08-17

|
Jealousy made Mrs. Devereaux very
bitter of tongue. She never lost a
| chance to taunt Ernestine with her
| dependence, or scott her daring, and
| put misconstructicns upon her most
generous and disinterested acts.
Ernestine was by nature quick. Of
| temper, and passionate of blood. She
controlled herself as long as she could
as long as self-respect and. respect
for Phil, dear old Phil, who had some
| how grown so moody and out Of place
| under his sisters taunts-would let
| her.
She sought her guardian, and found
him in the library one day.
! His head was bowed on his hands,
and when he lifted his face, the eyes
were haggared with painful thought.
Gerald Graham had just left him,
and what had he said to bring that
look upon the face she had learned to
look upon as the nohlest, the best, the
kindest on earths
She had come to speak of her own
trOubles-to tell him she must go away
to earn her own living, that she could
no longer bear this dependence on him,
with which she was so often taunted
by his sister; but she forgot her troub-
les in the sight of his.
"Oh, Guardy Phil, what is it?' she
cried, dropping on a hassock at his
feet, her, voice and face tremulous
with pity. Are you ill?'
mo Ernestine," he answered, with a
slow, weary smile, mot physically
mentally, 1 don't know. The thought
of parting with my little comrade is
hardly productive of plea Ernoe,
tlne''-the smile vanished, his voice
became sterner-"perhaps you know
but he said you didn't! Gerald Graham
has just asked my consent to WOO you
AS his wife. What shall 1 say to
him.?
Her face flushed, then blanched, and
flushed again.
'"rell him." she repeated; then she
added, bitterly: ''Tell him that I
thank him for the honor he would con-
fer upon me; but Oh, Phil! Philip
and she shrank shivering to the floor
and burst into a storm of sobs, her
face pressed to her palms-"do you
want to get rid of me? You are cruel,
too."
A moment he looked at her in ST.
lence, then a slow, almost fearful
light crept into his eyes.
He touched the bowed head with a
reverence and devotion he had never
given to any cultured dame of fash
ion.
"Ernestine,' he said, softly, gently
drawing her to his breast, 'I've been
learning my own heart while sur
rounded by all these people for the
last five or six weeks. I've seen YOU
falling in love with young Graham
she started; but he ent or. NJ z; d nd III
my mind I've forced myself to see my
IRE as 1t must be without you. You
know the dead old trunk of a tree on
the edge of the woods? know nv life
would be like that without the beau
tlful verdure of your dear presence
around it,"
But 1 don't love Gerald Graham,
except as a friend, a good man, a
good rider and a good shot," she pro-
tested
The haggard eyes broke into q LIGHT
| or wonder and incredulity.
Ihen-Well, suffice it to say that less
than a month later his merry little
madcap became Philip brakes below
ed wife, his comrade for life.
1t was a bitter blow for Graham.
put he had never been encouraged by
Ernestine, who had unconsciously lost
her heart to her guardian long before.
Inc brown mare still keeps pace
with Badger Bill, and the bitches are
as deep, and the fences as steep as
ever, and Ernestine's husband more
her lover than he was of yore; and
the bright-eyed, impulsive, dashing
and lovable little lady is one of the
happlest wives in Wisconsin-Nev
York Weekly