New-York tribune., 1896-11-29

ness Then C,yrl found himself saying goodby
somewhat tenderly, lifting Miss tlroyos hand
to his lips, and suddenly-perhaps her e!es coulu @
still fascinate or perhaps he deemed tnat ips
should take as well as gve-he pressed ms ips
to hers. 1t the psychological moment put
a warning footstep was heard. ana sym came III
and asked Grace to come to the drawing room
On the following morning Cyril carefully AVOID,
ed the neighborhood Of his cousins nome, ana
the afternoon he devoted to ms mo.ner' III '"e
evening there came letter which ran:
Dear Mr.. Daynton AS ! told you. my short
holiday is I must leave this deiight1u,
place for Monderley Terrace, oaK'on adou and and
hoped to have seen you again 10 say auleu, anu
to thank you for your very great Kihdness'
Yours. u II.
shes gone home to Monderley Terrace. oak
ton has She? Well it perhaps time" Cyril
said to himself after reading the letter, ana,
twisting 1t up he used 1t to light cigar with.
and long before the cigar was finished he knew
no more whittier Miss Elroyd had gone than
he knew whittier had gone the smoke OF the
cigar
Yet Miss Elroyd went home accompanied by
delightful feeling of triumph. She had succeeded
at last Her face was growing palmer her music
tiresome and her eyes growing weaker put she
had won the prize this summer ana success .sso 80
softened the asperity of her nature that FOR three
whole DAYS she lovable and loving because
she fancied herself loved. She wrote 10 the
friend IF whose acquaintance she was p.ouHe1., p,e,
TO Madge Aynshaw and told her all perhaps
more And Madge. reading the letter remeh-
bered Amy Hatherton. and was troubled.
For almost a fortnight Cyril was away from
home assisting his county in the matches with
the northerly cricket counties ana having inate
rally improved his average by scoring a couple
of centuries and two innings of over sixty ne re-
turned in high good humOr. When he called 10
see Sybil. intending to give her a good ue-
scripto1 OF the matches he round ner en-
gagged with another visitor, who had come
for a week or more This was Mlicent Poole.
another old school-friend for 1t was Sypils prac-
tce of which no one quite knew the reason 10
invite to her home several of her od-time friends
who she thought, would probably have no other
chance Of taking holiday.
Through the half hour which followed his In
PRODUCTION Cyril was wondering how it came that
such as Mcent Poole was friend OF Sybil
Butler. He only tall. somewhat ungainly
girl. with an untidy mass OF red-gold mar WIN
a plain face and forehead already lined with
hard. somewhat coarse hands. ana dressed III d
dress undeniaby shabby
He could but wonder, for he knew nothing OF
old days. and of the commotion there mad Deeh
once in a highly respectable ladies' school when
one though.less tongue had told that Milly
Poole's father a convict. He knew nothing
of the sadness wrought by ostracism in heart
already overburdened with misery. lie had
never seen lonely girl sobbng plteously while
from the distance came merry voices or other
girls in play, seen her. when the reaction
came with defiant scornful face. He had never
heard of the summer day when she had sat by
herself thinking III of all the world, and dream
ing in a wild way, of how 10 end her young Ire
and its pain. and another girl, fair-nalred. 1a'r-
faced, sweet-voiced. had kissed her and told her
that she would be her friend forever. Yes; Mar
garet Aynshaw. the brilliant the beautiful. the
rlch the high born had thrown in her lot with
the boycotted one. and timid. but klnd SSp
Butler had followed
He knew nothing Of this, nor Of the deep pas
sionate love with which Mill!cent repaid their
kindness. He saw only plain face and
shabby dress. and they gave no hint OF the
nature which shared common ownership with
them-a nature deep and earnest. yet mpulsive.
loving and generous. which had beaten all
through a life of sorrow against the bars OF
poverty and ignorance that had fenced II In
So Cyril wondered. until startled out or his
musing by Miss Poole saying: Il have been
arguing with Sybil on political subjects. DO you
agree With woman suffrage. Mr.. Daynton?
"Well-ah-yes." said Cyril. The eyes OF his
uuestioner absolutely fearless. and the face.
plain though ii was looked clever. Cyril thought
it better to say Yes" You see" he went on.
my Idea is that women have been so awfully
clever. you know, at times and have turned men
about so easily. that IL seems absurd for us 10
talk about woman's unfitness for this and tnat.
Are you a politician" Miss Poole asked
"Not yet" replied Cyril.
"Or literary man." she cortinued
"Oh no." was the answer.
Then you are the first man. not politician
or a writer, who has given me such an answer:
and the politicians. you know. are not always
honest, and the scribDlcrS are not always practi-
CAL
Millicent took Cyril Daynton to be in earnest.
and for the few following DAYS he found himself
listening TO talk that was all OF sweating the
term had to be explained 10 him-of the making
IF dozens OF shirts at so many-or few. rather
farthings a dozen; OF shop assistants and long
hours Of factories, and wOmans labor generally,
with other unpleasant topics the mention of
which had hitherto never disturbed the perfumed
atmosphere of his life. He was dreadfully bored
al first, but was all attention nevertheless. and
Miss Poole misook his courteous attention for
interest. and continued more earnestly than be-
ore.
Soon. however Cyril did grow interested Miss
Poole's England was new to him The England
OF narrow, filthy alleys. Of crowded cOurts-ihe
England whose blue sky is dimly seen through
smoke OF factories. whose music Is drowned by
the jingle Of money on countless counters-pos-
sessed all the charm OF an unknown country for
him. One thing. however. puzzled him. How
came 1t that a stranger should talk so freely to
him. and take his sympathy and agreement FOR
granted? She never seemed 10 think OF him be-
ing on the other side to her. as in truth he was.
At length he asked her:
How is it. Miss Poole. that you pay me the
compliment Of talking to me as you do?' he said.
"Complinent?" said Millicent
Il take II such. You seem to credit me
with knowing as much and feeling as deeply as
you do yourself.
Il think 1t must be-" said Miss Poole because
you remind somehow really don't know
how-of a very great friend Of mine to whom
generally talk In the manner YOU have heard
me- Your cousin knows her-Miss Aynshaw.
Il have heard Sybil speak Of her. said Cyril.
"and always most enthusiastically What Is she
like?'
She is splendid" burst ort Mcent. "My
belief in the ideal is anchored TO her. and can
never be lost to She Is the living PROOF that
the beautiful is the good. that the perfect face
must belong TO the perfect heart and mind.
can't imagine a nober nature than hers. and
never saw or ever dreamt OF. farer face One
day. shall never forget t-I tired and
vexed. and sick OF everything about me. had
to run away from work; felt must. and so |
took a train and soon I was sitting alone among
sandhills. Before me stretched the wide estuary
reaching to the sea. and above me the sky was
beautiful and clear. ! could see nothing above
me but far-off. never ending blue. Down where
sea end sky met was pale golden haze. and the
sun sinking slow and sad; but away to my
left there rose from behind the smoke a mass OF
white clouds. and the bank OF snowy fleece
sha ped itself into ordered forms which pressed
upward. growing fainter and more silvery till
they lost in the immensely Of blue. And. as I
looked there were nc clouds. but myrads Of white
4l..ir