Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1897-03-29

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| impossible that it can be he
She almost runs to him. If she had
| quite understood Sir Hastings is impossi-
| bic to know, for no one has ever asked
| her since, but certainly the advent of her
| guardian is a relief to her.
''You" she says again, as if only half
| believing. Her gaze grows bewildcred.
| black before, she had never seen him III
aught but rather antiquated morning
| clothes. Is this really the professor? Her
eyes ask the question anxiously. This
| fall. aristocratic, perfectly appointed
man: this man who looks positively
| young. Where are the glasses that until
now hid his eyes? Where is that old.
| old coat?
Yes Yes. the professor certainly.
and as disagreeable as possible. His
eyes are still af1ame; but Perpetua is not
afraid of him. She is angry with him,
| in measure, but not afraid. One might
| be afraid of Sir Hastings, but of Mr..
! Curzon, no!
The professor had seen the glad rush
| of the girl toward him, and a terrible
pang of delight had run through all his
| veins-to be followed by a reaction. She
| had come to him because she wanted
| him, because he might be of use to her,
| not because What had Hastings
been saying to her? His wrathful eyes
are on his brother rather than on her
when he says:
You are tired?"
Yes says Perpetual.
| s'Shall | take you to GWendollne!
Yes" says PeIpetua again.
Miss WINTER is in my care at pres
| ent'' says Sir Hastings, coming INDECENT
| ~ forward. ''Shall | take you to Lady
| Baringw asks he, addressing Perpetual
| with a suave smile.
'She will come with me, says the
| profocCo1. with cold decision
"a commando says Sir Hastings.
| laughing lightly. See what it is, Miss
| Wynter, to have a hard-hearted guard
| IAN He shrugs his shoulders. Per-
petua makes him a little bow, and fol
| lows the professor out of the conserva
| tory.
eff you are tired says the professor,
| somewhat CURLY. and without looking at
her, II should think the best thing you
| could do would be to go to bed!'
| This astounding advice receives but lit
! tie favor at Miss Wynter's hands.
II am tired of your brother says she
promptly. ''He is as tiresome a creation
| as / know-but not of your sisters party /;
| and--I'm too old to be sent to bed, even
by Guardian!" She puts a very big
capital to the last word.
Il don't want to send You !.1I to bee bed
think little girls like you -
Il am not little girl" Indignantly.
Certainly you are not big oae,
says he.
It is an untimely remark. Miss Wyn-
ter's hitherto ill-subdued anger now
bursts into fame.
II can't help it if I'm not big" cries
She st isn't my fault. [ can't help it
either that papa sent me to you. / didn't
want to go to you. 1t wasn't my fault
that | was thrown upon your hands.
And-and'' -her voice begins to 1remble
lit isn't my fault either that you hate
me-
"That hate you!'' The professors
voice is cold and shocked.
Yes. 1t is true. You need not deny
it. You know you hate me-" They are
now in an angle of the hall where few
people come and go, and are for the mo-
ment, virtually alone.
.'Who told you that | hated gou?"
asks the professor in a peremptory sort
of way.
shall not tell you that, but | have beard
it all the same
One hears great many things if one
is foolish enough to listen Curzons
face is a little pale now. And can
guess who has been talking to you.
why should | not listen? 1t is true,
is it not?''
She looks up at him. She seems tremu-
lousy anxious for the answer. I.
Ou want me TO QeQy 1t, IuCn
sob, no, nor she throws out one hand
with little gesture of mingled anger
and regret. do you think ! want you
to lie to me? There, / am wrong. After
ALL with half smile, sadder than Iuost
sad smiles because of the youth and
sweetness of it, Il do not blame ycu.
am a trouble. / suppose, and all troubles
are hateful. I'-holding out her band
"shall take your advice, l think, and go
to bed"
ct was bad advice" says Curzon, tax
ing the hand and holding it. Stay up,
| enjoy yourself. dance"
:Oh! am not dancing" says She as
| if offended.
why not?' eagerly. Better dance
than sleep at your age. You-you mis-
! took me. Why go so soon!'
She looks at him with a little whimsical
| expression.
II shall not know you at all, present
ly,'' says she. Your very appearance
| tonight is strange to me, and now your
| sentiments. No. | shall not be sWayed
| by you. Good night, goodbyw She
| smiles at him in the same sorroWful lit
| tie way and takes Il step or two for
| ward.
Perpetual says the professor stern
| ly, "before you go you must listen to me.
| You said just now you would not hear me
| lie to you-you shall hear only the truth.
| Whoever told you shat | hated you is the
| most unmitigated liar on record!"
| Perpetual rubs her fan up and down
against her cheek for little bit.
"Well-I'm glad you don't hate me-
says she, ''but still I'm worry. Never
mine" -sighing-'I daresay shan't be so
| for long
''You mean?'' asks the professor anx-
| iously.
''Nothing-nothing at all. Good night.
| Good night indeed
Must you go? Is enjoyment nothing
to you?"
"Ah. you have killed all that for me. !
says she. This parting shaft she hurls
at him-malice prepense. 1t is effectual.
| By it she murders sleep as thoroughly
as ever did Macbeth. The professor
spends the remainder of the night pacing
| up and down his rooms.
CHAPTER XIII.
Through thick and thin, both over bank
/ and bush.
In hopes her to attain by hook or crook.
you will begin to think me a fixture,
says Hardinge with somewhat embar-