Democratic Northwest and Henry County news. [volume] (Napoleon, O. [Ohio]) 1894-1905, 1897-02-25


A little, slender maiden, with biz
gray eyes and hair that rippled all ovei
her white forehead. A rather out at ell
bows little maiden, whose best frocl
was muslin and whose ornaments
were roses. The Shirleys, young cou
pie, adored her and would have her Il
stay with them as often as ever the ole
lquire, her father, would let her come
to them. She had been taken forcible
possession Of by them from the month
that saw George Brooke there and his
fiancee, with the most disastrous re-
suits. George Brooke fell madly in love
with her, and she loved him.
1t has gore so far with them indeed
that though no word has yet been spo-
ken each knows the other's heart, and
sitting here today in this little, danger.
ously lonely retreat a sense of passion
ate protest against the fate that is divid-
ing them is thrilling through every
tone.
"We ought to go back, says Miss
Dene presently in rather changed
tone. She had been a little offended
perhaps by the frivolity of his answer.
"Oh, not yet, surely. We have been
here so short time, and to get away
from Shirley's banjo, if only for min
ute or two, is so intense q relief.
''lt is more than minute or two"
rising. "We have been here an immense
time. Agnes-Mrs. Shirley-will be
wondering what has become Of US. So,"
regarding him steadily, twill Miss
Morland."
"Let her wonder. Besides. she has
forgotten rs by this time in the delight
of Lord Tottenham's society. l wonder
what she sees in that old fossil? For my
part I'm always thinking when with
him Of what I don't see-hair, teeth,
etc. ="
"She is very Kind to him, poor old
man..
And amiability is her strong point.
How many charms you have discovered
in her of late
Il don't think you ought to speak of
her like that" says the girl, turning
upon him with little flash in her love-
ly eyes "You shouldn't criticise her."
why not? certainly shant be able
TO criticise her next month, SO may as
we'll make the most of my time now.
Next month slowly, and almost def
lntly-"l shall be the blessed proprietor
Of Mrs Brooke, and it is not permissi.
BILE to criticise one 8 own wife, whatever
you may do with regard to your
'riend's. "
lie has spoken deliberately and with
unconcern, though in truth his
leart IS torn in two by very passion
II despair and regret. They are both |
standing, but she has turned sharply |
Iside and has so placed herself that he |
'annot see her face. He had meant to |
provoke some word from her, and her
silence maddens him.
What are you thinking Off asks he
'ngrily, going up to her and compelling |
Ter to return his gaze.
She has grown very pale, but she
neots his eyes without finchirg.
Nothing" says she in a tone, out
t which all her courage cannot keep
he sound Of desolation.
A woman's answer |, know what
ou were thinking Of for all that-that
here is no more despicable thing on
arth than man who marries woman
or her money. Yet what was to do?
Vas the old name to be forever lower
q? A title-and $500 year-how do
hey go together? Money | felt that I
aust have, and when it came my wayI
ook it, Do you think I don't care
ow? But the thing is done. And my
ncle-that old man-he is a perfect
evil, he will do nothing for me. am
led--am bound.
Yes, says she simply. She has
aught herself indeed to regard it in
1is light. OF very old family herself,
1e demands Of race seem natural to
er To give up ali for the sake of the
Id name-that has reason in it--but
nat 1t should be, they two who must
i've up--that seems hardl
why don't you speak?" says he
arshly, ''You despise me; You
link"-
" | think nothing but what is kind of ]
ou, " says she, her voice trembling,
ut her face full of a gentle dignity. 81
not despise you. Why should I? 1
link you are doing right. When all old ,
tie comes to one, it should be regarded ,
sacred charge, and you-you meant
do the best you could for it. You |
i'll be able, in spite of your uncle, to :
oep up the old name
"Oh, On the old namep inter
lpts he passionately, with deep t
'oan. He has spoken very low certain
and certainly it seems as though E
% word had been forced from him !
'ainst his will-but Dorothy, hearing {
is terrible speech, grows dumb. To so .
'nounce the "old name" She pauses, !
lzing at him as if thunderstruck,
II beg your pardon, says he moodi- i
. Why has she taken it all so much
r granted3 Is there no loophole of es- d
pc? II she had cared as much as he :
'es, would she have been SO ready to |
knowledge the claims of the "old
'me?' "Doyou never think, Dorothy" I
Us he slowly, of how it might have !
EN- if--if''-
With little swift, imperative gesture !
@ puts up her hand and checks him.
er very lips are white. Her large eyes q
ow suddenly larger as cruel, smarting /
ars fill them. Even as Brooke gazes /
her, two bright drops overflow her |
Is aud run quickly down her pale
eeks. r
"Dorothy!" says he, making move \
ent toward her. i
"No, no. Don't mind mel'' says she b
avely, repulsing him with eager
nds. "You are doing what is best for
IN, indeed and-and afterward vot; |