The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1897-12-30
tALL RIGHTS REsRRVED.l
Chapter K Continued.

tALL RIGHTS
Chapter x Continued.
Rawdon had an appointment with
Marian to meet her at the gate Of Bun
garee Cottage-their usual trystlng place
at ten o'clock on the following day. He
was little perplexed as to what he
should do when the morning arrived, for
Clara Lambert had left word that she
would come over and see him during the
day, and he was very anxious not in any
way to rudely hurt the feelings of the
poor girl by being out when she arrived
as though he were not expecting her.
From the very moment of her appearance
upon the scene it was inevitable that the
curious position in which he was placed
should prove full of EN- barrassments, that
must necessarily be greatly increased by
the lndecision of his weakened resolution,
although indeed the situation was one in
which man of the frmeSt moral courage
might well be wholly at a loss how to act
However, he got out of the triding diff
Guilty by leaving word that If Miss Lam
bert should call during his absence she
might be desired to remain at Dunbar
House until his return, and told that he
had gone ont to seek for lodgings.
At the hour agreed upon he strolled
along to Mrs. Murray's pretty little cot
tage, and found both Marian and her aunt
waiting for him in the garden. The girl
looked pale and a little haggard about
her eyes, as though she had passed
sleepless night.
"Good morning, Mr. Rawlings-Rawdon
1 mean, exclaimed the widow, advancing
to the gate with her hand extended. my
niece has told me of your wonderful re-
covery, and 1 congratulate you upon it
| from the bottom OF my heart. And oil
| brought about by a young lady calling
upon you, too, as hear. Truly never
was there anything more remarkablel"
Are you quite we'll again this morn
ing?' asked Marian.
Eyes, am thankful to say. But you
are not looking 50 fresh as usual
"Oh, am all right, she replied hastily,
slightly averting her head as she spoke.
81 want you to come out with me and
help me.to seek lodgings as near here as
! l can possibly find Them
| The girl stared atShim, and Mrs. Muir
ray inquired why he was going to leave
| Dunbar House.
"Now that am able to realize my posi-
| ton, and know who / am, and all about
myself, it is proper that 1 should not con-
tinue to burthen my kind friends" he
answered.
"Taking that view of it you are no
doubt right said Mrs Murray. "But
tell ME one thing. Mr.. Rawdon, which I
| am simply dying with curiosity to know;
| now that you have recovered your recol-
| lection are you married."
| The young fellow cast a swift look at
Marian and met her glance. He saw at
once Dy the expression iof her face that
whatever else she might have told her
aunt she had said nothing to her about
the state of affairs between Clara Lam
bert and himself.
"No," he answered. ST am not mar
RED"
Mrs. Murray turned triumphantly
towards her niece. II told you sol" she
| said. 81 always felt certain that you
wonldss turn out to be a single man. she
added with little smirk, although 1
am sure | cannot tell you why. Well, for
10th of your sakes, am very happy it
proved so."
s'Shall we start now2'' said Marian.
eff you are quite ready he replied.
She lightly slipped her arm through
his and they left the cottage. No sooner
were they out of earshot of the widow,
who leaned over the gate, watching them
with the pensive gaze of one in whom
old associations have been awakened by
the spectacle at which she looks, than
Rawdon said, "You have not told your
aunt anything about Miss Lambert?''
tNo,' she answered. perhaps it was
| wrong of me to conceal it, but was
afraid to tell her. She is good woman,
though sometimes little inclined to be
frivolous, and am certain that with her
keen sense of right she would have urged
| me to withdraw In favor Of the other poor
girl. Cecil, 1 am very unhappy. for L
have the feeling upon me of wronging
this unhappy Miss Lambert. to whom
you are betrothed."
'What am to do. Marian? I love you,
| and could not give you up now; where
| an. owing, suppose, to the change that
seems to have como over my whole nature,
I no longer care about Clara"
when arc you going to see her again?"
"She is coming over today" he an
swered.
"And will Won then tell her about
me?"
81 must have long talk With her. 1t
grieves me greatly to think of giving her
pain. Yet it will be kinder in me to tell
her exactly how things stand than to de-
ce1ve her at all. Oh, Marian, what ought
I to doS' he exclaimed passionately, as
at that instant TO his understanding,
which was still weak and imperfect in it's
perception, rowing to thessimpaired vitality
of his mind.
81 know what you ought to do" she
an swered, in a low voice. Dismiss all
thoughts of me from your mind, and
marry the girl you have come out here to
wed''
Marian" said he, almost fiercely, SO
greaJ became the intensity of his utter
ance, THAT can never bel 1t is sad, it
seems cruel, but since one of two must
be sacrificed In this case Clara Lambert
is the one who will have to suffer.
would to God it could be otherwise, for
although indeed she no longer has any
hold upon my affection, abhor the
thought OF treating any woman-and
particularly one who loves me-with I'M
tenderness.
Poor girl!' exclaimed Marian, gloom
lily. Cecil, we are both of us being
horribly selfish in this matter. Consider
how you must have loved her in the
past, how you have made her love you,
and how, at this very time, she is think
ing of you as proyidentially saved from
shipwreok, and mercifully restored from
q greatscalamity, to become her husband
Love is the most selfish of all pas
sions,' said he, pressing her arm against
his side.
Suffering and mental disorder had
created a most extraordinary and com
pick condition in this man, sentiment
of indifTerence Init SLIGHTLY removed from