The Press., 1896-02-20

 my own. She was sterner and more prao- tical. She was absolutely merciless. She would not hear of any temporizing with so dangerous d question, of any quiet reasoning with Miss Eugenie Van sittart on the romantic folS3 of her ways. She could afford to lose pupil-a dozen pupils-from her large establishment for the sake of principle-the withdraw al of Bob White would be @ serious loss to me. She did not like Eugenie Vansit- tart and was glad of an excuse to get her off the premises. was very fond of young White, though l could not hold him in any way blameless for his head strong and foolish procedure. could understand boy of 6 being passionate ly in love-oh, yes !-and making an absurd young ass of himself, but that seemed beyond the comprehension of Miss Craig-Alpine altogether.
 Dreadful-infamous disgustingr' were Miss Craig Alpine's remarks, jerked forth in little puffs of explosive steam from under that remOrseless aqui- line nose of hers. II will send for Miss Vansittart immediately and confront her with this letter.
 "I-I hope you will allow me to withdraw first" said, very nervously. I was a nervous old man, I may say here.
 II would prefer you to remain, MT. Chadwick, " was the lofty response. II require witness. "
 "And that letter, which have shown you in confidence"-
 "Is written by one of my pupils, for whose moral conduct I stand sponsor, sir, to her parents and herself," she said, fourishing 1he letter rather wildly over her head. "It is no question of con- fidence have these two imprudent and impertinent young persons shown in us, do you think!'
 Shrugged my shoulders. had no re- ply to the question that was hardly in- appropriate. l had had one or two sug- gestions to make, but 1 knew that she would not listen to any suggestions of mine They were unworthy of consider ation, she thought. An, we'll, possibly they were.
 Miss Vansittart, unconscious of the storm impending over her fair young head, came presently smiling into the room. When she caught sight of me who was evidently well known to her by sight-the delicate face flushed a bright crimson and the blue eyes seem- ed popping out of the pretty head. Ifelt all of a-tremble, as though had stolen something-felt like the culprit, too, was an awful sneak. And yet it was my duty-I maintain it to this day that it was my duty. Had ever married and been blessed with a son or daughter, I should have been glad and grateful for any information that would have helped me to save and shelter either from so dangerous impulse.
 Eugenie Vansittart was very pretty had expected that-and was in appear ance quite young woman already-a month or two older than Bob, knew afterward-weak vain, loving, impul- sive, thoughtless perhaps, desperate Yes, it was as well that I had stood in the way and cried "Stop!
 Miss Vansittart, said the school mistress, "is that your handwriting? I ask that question as mere form and for the satisfaction of this gentleman. But did you write that letter:''
 Poor Eugenie, with the color still burned into her face, took up the letter with hand that trembled very much, glanced at it, laid it down upon the ta- ble, looked mp at me with tears in her eyes, looked away from the principal and said in low voice:
 "YeS
 "And you would have carried out all that-that shameful epistle implies?"
 A painful silence; then the answer came again:
 "Yes.
 ''It is an abnormal precocity," ex- claimed Miss Craig-Alpine. "Go to your room and prepare to accompany me at once to your parents. Do you hear, Miss Vansittart? At once. "
 Yes. Miss VansittarU was impulsive, hot headed, hot hearted.
 "Oh, don 'tsend me home Don t take me home!' she cried. II love Bob so much-he is so fond of mel III will promise anything, Miss Craig Al pine, but don't take me home! For mercy's sake, let me stop. won't see him again-won't speak to him again, however much love him-without your permission-but don't let me go all this long, long distance away from him. Pray don't. 1 can't go, won't go-I won't"
 'If might be allowed to sugges''- began.
 II think, sir, need not detain you any further from your duty in this mat ter, too, said Miss Craig Alpine coldly, and l bowed stiffly in return and went away. ! took Eugenie's letter with me. quietly secured it for the girls sake perhaps for young Whites, for it was surreptitiously stitched back into his vest when got home.
 I did not say anything to young White on that day or the next. had not the courage-or the heart. It was all over, ! and there was an end of it. Miss Craig Alpine had kept her word and whirled away Eugenie from the sphere of temp tation, and I thought that it might be as well-being weakminded sort of man, as the reader has already been l able to discover for himself-for young White to find out the sequel by degrees. 1 was not in his confidence. I did not want d scene. l was fond of the boy-I even felt for the boy-and I had averted all the mischief, all the scandal, which might have followed his insane project.
 But when on Saturday afternoon, at quarter to o'clock, saw him at the station-whither had gone ostensibly to purchase an early edition of an even- ing paper-the tears came into my old fools eyes. There he was at the place of appointment under the clock, looking flushed and wild, with a grave stare ahead of him. He did not see me at first, and did not force myself on his attention. The lad bought a paper, too, but it was crumpled up in his nervous hand. At his feet was small portman- teau which belonged to him, and was puzzled to think how he had contrived to smuggle it out of the schoolhouse. When the great clock was close upon the sErol1a of d-tha train, Stortod at &Iro