The Monmouth inquirer., 1898-10-27

when he had taken her in his arms,
and kissed her bood-gye.
i A shamed flush rushed over her face
at the remembrance of that parting
of the awakening which had followed;
and she bent her head low, glad to feel
his gaze was not upon her.
They were cousins: he loved her
perhaps as he would have loved her
had she been his sister.
And yet, for him. she had greater
love than could be born of sisters
] tenderness.
To be near him again was like en-
tering paradise-but he must never
know-never understand how love for
| him had taken root in her heart, and
twined round every fibre of her ma
| ture, becoming part of her life.
A cinder falling on the hearth dis
turbed his reflections.
He glanced up and saw the flush
quivering over the fair face before him
saw the shine of tears under the
yelling lashes.
He got up from his chair, and taking
both her hands, threw himself on the
rug at her feet.
"Must / kiss those tears away?" he
asked, his voice half tender, half teas
ing. why, Rose. what have done
that you will not look at me?"
She kept her eyes averted from his
gaze.
The clasp of his hands had sent a
sweet thrill through all her pulses, and
she 1onged for him to gather her in his
arms, and let her head rest on his
breast In the old child-like way.
Yet it could not be.
He did not understand what was
! in her heart--or would he have uttered
/ those light words?
She dragged her hands from his clasp
and dashed the tears from her eyes,
II was looking at the pictures in the
fire" she said. and what saw made
me unhappy"
"They are not such pictures as
would paint for you" he answered
Were they of the past, or of the fu-
ture?"
Both"
"And all sad ?"
"They seemed So
'Then do not look into the fire any
more tonight Rose. Turn your eyes
to me; / want to read what is in them. /"
tYou would see nothing but what
you have seen before" she answered,
/ rising hastily, and commencing to pack
the tea-things on to the tray. II must
60 and see how Bess is getting on. ]
wish you had eaten more of her cakes.
She will be so disappointed, when she
sees them nearly all back again.
Cant we smuggle a few under the
sofa?" he said, hoping to win smile.
1T would be better not to make the
attempt" she answered, with only the
slightest tremor at the corners of her
mouth. "Gip might ferret them out at
an unlucky moment
"Gip! Where is he? Couldn't he
help us out of the difficulty by slowing
away a few on his own account"
'.He is not in the house. Clip pre-
ferred following his master to stay
ing at home with me. Such an un-
grateful dog does not df We to be
made use of--as we want To make use
of him."
A smile had come to her lips now,
and despite the sad reflections she had
INDUCED in few moments ago, there
was a CLEAN of the old sunny mischief
in her eyes.
Marc was relieved to find the shad-
ow gone from her face.
AS to its cause, he had not the re-
motest suspicion. /.
Rose had always been winsor Ind
ioyabfe-as sweet as her floral ..1lie-
sake--but ever as child.
What will you do when you are
mistress of Drayton Court?" he asked,
a momentary wonder coming over him.
as to what her future might be.
She looked up at him with wild,
startled glance; as though he had un-
consciously dealt her wound.
II do not know" she said, Il shall
be miserable-I shall wish myself
dead
Then, alarmed at her own words, she
! shrank from the earnest regard of the
| eyes fixed upon her, and, with a
strange, forced laugh, hurried into the
1 kitchen.
Marc stood where she had left him.
his head bent, his eyes dark -nd
! .hOughtful-and yet not understanding.
''She will be lonely in that dreary
place." he muttered. 1T is pity she
position there, will see that she has
suitable companion"
The companion he chose for her a
/ few weeks later, was a middle-aged
lady who had lately become widow,
! 1klu was 6idu IL ld1uii thC 0atAOS VI
chaperone to the new mistress of Dray-
4 ton Court
you will come and see me-when
( you have timer" Rosalie said to Marc
at parting. 1T will be like prison
\ life to me-"
And STOPPING to kiss her pale cheek,
he promised.
rIY A nr~Uru Wv
/ Nellie--the girl who would have been
I wife, but for that tragic interruption
to the wedding-found it hard to live
down the disappointment which had
1 come to her with the knowledge OF
Franks deceit.
Too proud to let her suffering be-
come a subject for daily comment
amongst those nearest to her, she had
gone about the house much as if
nothing of Importance had happened.
Her bridal dress had been thrust out
of sight in an old chest.
..,I<