The sea coast echo. [volume] (Bay Saint Louis, Miss.) 1892-current, 1897-10-23

| AIC IUOhCQ lJl HNl ulCohih
"I!' he SAID, II il is not T."
"Who then ?--Ah, yes. | under
stand. They are mortgaged.
| Foreclosure was word she asso-
ciated with poor plays. Such things
happened then. She remembered
the two men with the business-iIke
air and the note books.
She laid her arm on the stone ledge
of the balustrade.
"There must be way ont she
said.
IF could find it,"
An hour or two later whea she
took her candle from his hand she
said:
''Look for the way out"
She smiled and be followed her
with his eyes as she mounted the
stairs, her skirts trailing and the can
die held high. She did not look back
at the turn in the staircase. Aylmer,
in the smoking room was ruminant.
1t was impossible TO mistake her.
Nor did he misunderstood. She
said "Yes" when he spoke the next
day.
Lady Aylmer said: "Diana, Dia-
ma, dear woman, God bless your
Perhaps he will" said Diana.
Now, in her drawing-room, the
woods saved and his future mort
gagged instead, Aylmer took rapid
survey uf his life up to the point 1t
had then reached, and decided that
he had pursued the only course
open to him. Neither did he in
caImness repent the step be had TAX
en-. Diana Granton had not alone
her money to recommend her. She
was of the world, and admirably 1T
ted for the position he Offered her.
That she was comely has been said;
and she took a sensible view Of the
situation. He was not 10 love with
her, and she was wise enough 70 con-
ceal from him yhe secret that her own
heart had been revealing TO her gra-
dually for some time past.
AT dinner That even ~ si.a looaPd
at him and knew that size loved him.
He looked at Diana and thought Of
forgotten Audrey. II was the fault
Of The roses in Tie drawing room.
'she scent Of them haunted him
followed him home. But little Au-
drev what would she lhInk? But
near as he had come 10 loving her,
he had never made love 20 her, aad
had nothing to rrproacll hlm~rli
with; for which now be was ferv 80
| ly thankful. Yet he WAS no' qulte
happy as his hanson look bin Ga
| Charges street. A memory OF some
hing that vas wislfu nj times IN
| AulreS eyes stirred hin. Tha
thing was absurd, rconceivahle.
Her mother, gentle as she was, wa
q woman of he world and had known
he had "meant" nothing, Audrey
was child to carress and to pet. II
was he who had suffered at the part
ing. Her tears were the frank tears
, of cbIldho' d, and rolled down he
cheeks unconcealed.
His misgivings told him he hat
done well to go. He thought of th
! restlessness that had possessed hin
} during the early days Of his travels
He had written letter that was nev
; er posted, and had refrained himsel
until time and distance allowed bin
| to write calmly. Presently the nee,
/. to write at all ceased, and he kne,
; himself cured.
But tonight Audrey haunte,
him. He could be thankful tina
he had not made fool of himself
: the girl was not of his world
e and he knew the folly of an ii
assorted marriage.
But she had been very dear t
! him. -
e How fair she wasl He
Q face insinuated itself PERSISTENT
/ between him and sleep. Sh
: must be grown up now--yes, At
J. drey must be 10. Thecurves q
her slender figure would be rounC
I, cd, and many subtle change
Q mark the time that had seen th
crossing Of the bordering {
|, womanhood. But she would b
!, the same Aubrey that he ha
known, and been so near lovint
twas late before he slept. The
= Audrey came to him in dream
that had no definite shape. Fl
tried,yainly, Afterwards, to remen
o ber in what guise and to what az
companying circumstances, sh
, appeared to him. He only kne