Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1896-10-30


Three years afterward James Thorne's
palace home is blaze of light and
beauty. The massive doors are flung
open the perfume of the flowers floats
out on 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
sweet, imperious grace, wholly her own,
and is glancing away, on a partners
arm, when she looks up and sees be-
fore 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 Thorner 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. Notinge of the rose
flush dies from her face. The pansy pur-
pie 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?'
eyes, we returned fortnight ago."
rings out the clear, silvery voice. "Oap-
tain Arthurs, will you take me to the
ballroom?''
She bows trifle haughtily to Edgar
Reynolds and 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, and her uncle looks
fondly on and smiles to see the world
bow down before his darling. "Such
wit, such 1epartee, such matchless
grace!" they say. "She is the beauty of
the season. "
Zone dance, only one," pleads Edgar
Reynolds, for the sake of old times. "
She laughs, that clear, happy laugh
of hers, and leaves him.
He stands where she has left him and
looks after her with hot, angry eyes.
He has staid single and let Agatha
Vere'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
I old dominion.
lie sees Il 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. II
must 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 a cool, dim,
shadowy alcove.
He is just behind her, but draws back
! quickly in the shade Of tall, flower
crowned pillar as he sees man turn
from the marble mantel at the farther
end of the room, against which he had
I been leaning "a man bearded and
bronzed and travel stained.
ooh, Philip
The girl sprang forward. streaming
light i'll her eyes, vivid color in her
cheeks
Little Flon" 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
L., Ii, 81
three years ago.
Little Flo, =" he says again, and this
time his eyes are suspiciously moist.
With woman's quick perception she
sees it and withdraws her hands
For moment she is shy girl again,
for she knows how, in spite of wealthy
suitors and countess coronet, she has
faithfully guarded the love awakened
three years ago-the true love thai
fouriShed when the false love died
"Have you no better welcome, Flor
ence-no gift of love? Have | hoped
and waited in vain? Oh, my darlingn
'Silencel This lady is my promised
wife. -
1t is Edgar Reynolds, white will
rage, who speaks, but Florence turns tC
him with her calmest, sweetest smile.
You are mistaken, Mr.. Reynolds
A pretty girl with whom you hirteC
three years ago helped to pass the time
but she was only shy, wild rose, anC
you couldn't afford to ruin your pros
poets for her, You know.
As she speaks she draws from he
breast and hands him sheet of crum
pied paper
Then she turns to the lover of he
childhood, girlhood, womanhood, ant
lays her hands in his, and he clasps tn
figure in its trailing satin robes close il
his strong arms till "little Flo" erie
out in alarm, ooh, Philip, you hav
crushed my howers!'
And Edgar Reynolds goes forth iron
the room and forth from their lives
and for ono true love has its royal re