Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1896-11-21


from home and friends, carried in his
heart of hearts the picture of lovely,
wistful, girlish face, with shiest pansy
purple eyes.
! = i ).
Three years afterward James
Thorne's palace home is a blaze of
light and beauty The massive doors
are flung open the perfume Of the
flowers floats out in the night air.
The soft, brilliant light from the
chandeliers, through curtains of amber
satin and creamy lace, streams forth
on the street below.
She has received them all with a
sweet, imperious grace. wholly her
own, and is glancing away, ON a part
ner's arm when she looks up and sees
before her late arrival-Edgar
Reynolds.
The dark debonair face is handsome
as of yore, and it brightens as if with
new life when he sees her.
FLORENCE Miss Thorne He has
sprung forward eagerly, and, regardless
of the presence OF others, held out
both hands.
Florence Thorne looks up at him in
calm surprise. She does not smile
she does not cry out. No tinge of the
rose flush dies from her face. The
pansy purple eyes do not droop; the
lily hands do not tremble.
So she lays her hand moment in
his, coldly, courteously.
"Have you come back at last-at
last =
Yes, we returned fortnight ago"
rings out the clear, slvery voice.
Captain Arthurs, will you take me to
the ballroom ~
She bows trihe haughtily to Edgar
Reynolds aud leaves the drawing room
on her partners arm.
The night goes by with the ripple
of laughter, the crash of music, the
tread of dancing feet.
Everywhere admiring eyes follow
Florence Thorne, aud her uncle looks
fondly on and smiles to see the world
bow down before his darling. "Such
wit, such repartee. such matchless
grace" they say. She is the beauty
of the season.
"One dance, only one" pleads Edgar
Reynolds, ''ior tile sake of old times" i"
She laughs, that clear. happy laugh
of hers, and leaves him.
lie stands where she has left him
and looks after her with hot, angry
eyes.
He has staid single and let Agatha
Nere's bank account slip through his
hands for the sake OF this girl and
James Thorne's wealth.
Oh, now-now for one hour of the
old dominion.
He sees servant approach her in
the crowd, sees her bend her naughty
head and follow him.
Il must have it out with her now,"
he says, clutching his hands fiercely.
IL mus, awake the old love tonight if
ever
He follows her through the long gas
lit room till, parting the velvet cur
tains at the end, she enters cool, dim,
shadowy alcove.
lie is Just behind her, but draws
back quickly in the shade of tall,
flower crowned pillar as he sees a man
turn from the marble mantel at the
farther end of the room. against which
he had been leaning-a man bearded
and bronzed and travel stained.
"Oh, Philip"
The girl sprang forward, stream.
ing light in her eyes, vivid color in
her cheeks
Little Flo" he says softly.
1t was the old pet name for her
when she was little child. When
she grew up ''fair girl graduate, with
golden hair" she was Miss Florence. !"
Now the old name sprang first to his
lips.
Both her slender white hands rest
in his own-not reluctantly now. The
man in the shadow of the velvet
portiere looks on with compressed lips.
All. he recognizes him now-his rustic
rival of three years ago.
Little Flo," he says again, and
this time his eyes are suspiciously
moist. With woman's quick per-
ception she sees it and withdraws her
hands.
For a moment she is shy girl
again, for she knows how, in spite of
wealthy suitors and conntess' coronet,
she has faithfully guarded the love
awakened three years ago-the true
love that hourished when the false
love died.
"Have you no better welcome, Flor
ence-no gift of love? Have | hoped
and waited in vain Oh, my darling Y
Silence This lady is my promised
wife"
1t is Edgar Reynolds, white with
rage, who speaks, but Florence turn: