The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1897-03-12

aud tondUrly modulntod voice wore
enough 10 set any feminine hoart In q
blaze Ho walked with her, no sat
with her, no rode with hoT, no road
poetry with her, ho cat with hor dur
ing tho long golden September twi-
lights, until Pauline felt that life boz
sides him was tho brightest boon
Providence could accord. She haugh-
tily discarded her other suitors; she
cared no longer for ballroom or pic.
MIC parties--to her tho whole world
held but one man, and that was Harry
Livingston.
But still he kept just outside tho
charmed circle Of love making; no did
not propose. And Pauline, growing
almost sick az heart, counted the days
that still remained Of the season.
che will propose tomorrow, or
perhaps tho day after" she whispered
70 herself. "Oh, surely It must como
soon"
II was the evening before the break
ing up Of the gay party that had en-
livened the seaside hotel oil summer,
and a brilliant ball had been gotten
up to celebrate tho brief, happy sea-
son. Pauline Moore had dressed for
this festivity with unusual caro-somo-
how she felt that Il was TO be q crisis
in her life. She wore a lemon colored
silk, like a fair, auTeato cloud, and
her hair was looped up in It's shining
braids, by slender chains Of gold. Her
toilet, she knew by the murmur that
peryaded the ball room the moment
che entered, was a success-and Harry
Livingston's handsome eyes rested
upon her with evident admiration.
But the evening passed away, throb-
bing its brilliant hours in music and
perfume, and Harry never came near
her. She had cavaliers in abundance,
she was the cynosure Of all eyes, but
he, the man of oil men, kept obsti-
nately aloof.
Take me to the balcony. I am stiff
ling for want of fresh air, she said,
almost pettishly, to the partner with
whom she had just glided the redowa.
"Thank you. l need detain you no
longer.
And Mr.. Graham, feeling himself
abruptly dismissed, left Pauline by
the side of Major Livingston and
stalked away in high dudgeon.
"Harry, she breathed softly, with
a pleading glance upward into his
eyes, "you have not been near mo all
the evening""
81 have boen very busy with tho
companionship Of my own thoughts, "
he answered coldly. 81 start for
Europe tomorrow morning-"
"For Europol"
"To be gone hardly know how many
years. may visit India and the East
before I return"
"Harry"
He bent his head in cold courtesy.
81 beg your pardon Miss Moore
did you speHkP"
"You will leave me, Harry?"
81 shall be obliged to leave many
dear friends he returned indiffer-
emily.
There was a cold chill at Pauline'H
heart-a dizzy blindness before hor
eyes, but still she comforted herself.
With her it was no longer a matter of
etiquette-it was a struggle for life or
death.
"And you can leave me so calmly,
Harry?"
He lightly whispered the bars of a
popular tune:
Beware, beware Of the gay cavalier,
Who loves and rides away.
"Harry," she cried, forgetting in
the moment of agony all her feminine
training, all. her womanly impulses,
81 thought you loved me? On,
Harry, cannot let you goi"
81 am not aware, Miss Moore, oil
ever having given you any encourage
ment-"
"Encouragementp she answered
bitterly. "What has this livelong
summer been? What has your whole
course of conduct toward me been
Oh, Harry, if you leave me now you
will break my heart"
pauline he said, sternly, "try to
recall night IN August when George
Crane, pleading for more than life
stood before you. As you said to hin
then, now say to you: 'One must
amuse ones self at place like this
and you certainly ought to understand
the difference between a mere flrta
ton and sober earnest. lam holding
to your lips the bitter cup that h,
drank to the dregs. How do yol
relish the favor. Miss Moore, have
the honor to bid you adieu-forever p
And Pauline wRs alone on the flower
wreathed balcony-alone, with thu
stars above the sorrowful music o
Strauss waltzes throbbing and moan
ing from within. Truly, she had re
ceived her lessonl
Harry Livingston was gone and sh
never saw him again.
Pauline was never married; she