The Penn's Grove record., 1895-05-31

was done. She heaved a great sigh
In spite Of the memory of Peter, l fear
that 1t was an unctuous sigh.
Poor Peter! Peter Paul Pembroke
had been his full name, and when he
had, on bent knees, implored Priscilla
to share 1t, his suit had been powerful
ly backed by the prestige and revenues
of the Mercantile College, over which
lie presided as head and chief.
And yet, contrary to the expecta-
tons Of his friends, he had lived on for
fifteen years more.
Kept alive by his young wife," said
the inmates of the uncovered cot
tages which adjoined the college pre-
cincts.
afraid to lose sight of her by dy
ng," added the quizzical.
That 1t was the acme Of an old hus-
bands i~nfatuation which poor Peter
suffered was patent to the world. Hor.
rid threats Of reapparition from the
further realms Of shadow, in case Of
post-mortem infidelity on the woman's
part, were rumored to have been
launched forth from his d~eath-bed.
And yet she'll do it-she'1l MARI,
again." once more announced the wise.
Well, she proved their wisdom. The
goung professor, with the blond mus
tache and the eyeglasses, and the Ger
man name, who for six months past
had been doing such effectual work
Qf hn NnIyana hoI oapnN ~---
tation with its present head, Just q few
times too often to the vine-clad cot
tage.
How could a solitary woman be sup
posed to know how, unaided, to direct
such a vast institution? Priscilla had
fallen to asking for Otto.
The professor had a keen eye and q
facile tongue, and the widows blood
was red. In short when he had boldly
asked her to marry him tonight, she
had not said no.
Why should she have said no? She
asked herself a little deiantly, now.
She went back into the library-arrang-
ed by Peter Pembroke himself-and
paused, as through the open door of
the adjoining drawing-room she saw,
reflected In a long mirror, her own fig
ure advancing.
Alas, poor Peterl how he had loved
heri But indeed, she had sacrificed
herself for fifteen years. She had beer
q faithful sick nurse.
But q young woman-young1 Wen,
she was barely forty-two, and
she must have been blind tonight not
to acknowledge with a d~eprecatory
sigh, that there were people who per-
must acknowledge that she look
cd like a ripe August peach, and every
one knows that those are the best-a
young woman has a right to some hap
in her life.
Iessica was Peter Pembroke's second
and his ward Priscilla had a
good heart in her bosom, and would
not turn the girl of. But she was her
ross. Blonde and indolent and self.
.ndulgent, she had a half-frightened
horror Of this little, black thing, who
ooked lii 81 chit of a child still, though
the ha>S I'D 10, and had such sell
ish, secreS& $passlonate ways. and
such fierce, 3 oIdering black eyes,
hat appeared always upon one, eter-
tally watching, no matter where one
There vas a bright moon, and Its
light trickled through the thick LEAKAGE
# the upper veranda, upon which the
ong windows of Priscilla's bedcham.
Yer opened.
1t was an eerie Illumination, and
PRISCILLA, after she had sought her
ouch, fell to watching It with still,
eyes, which presently grew
then closedL
The night being so warm, she had
IT the French windows open A soft
ind had arisen, and swayed the
ense, clambering vine of the veranda
entity, with a rustllng sound. This
'und It might have been, o some
her, which aroused Priscilla pres
lily from the light slumber into which
lie had just now dropped.
Enclosing her heavy lids she saw q
Sht that tgQza the blood In her veins,