Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1898-05-25
CHAPTER NJ.

February had come, bringing some
.pring-like days; the feathered lovers were
already serenading their ladies': primroses
and crocuses were springing to meet the
first smile of their god. And June was
decidedly growing less wan and white,
her step was more elastic. Grief was still
her master passion; but, already. Time
was doing for her what he does for the
young. and indeed for the old, too, only
more slowly And Tom had bravely aided
Time.
Should you be very angry IL were to
say something to you?" he asked June
one day.
NO" answers June, placdly, with .
tolerably good intuition Of his meaning.
Il have been afraid to say a word yet"
he utters, still much perturbed in his
mind. "But-but-oh. my darling, will
you some day come and live here for good
and sll?-do you care enough for me to
marry meT
June does not answer in words, but she
gives a little pressure to the hand which
holds hers.
After that, what could any man do
under the circumstances, especially a man
madly in love, but snatch his darling to
his breast and cover her face with kisses!
June trembles violently; this time it is not
from horror or disgust, but because the
sudden remembrance Of Dallas kiss
smites her, and with it the awful neces-
sity of confessing her shame to Tom. In
moment she tears herself from his arms,
and, starting up, rushes over to the fire
place. He dares not pursue her; already
he is accusing himself of indelicacy to
her grief; the moment Of delight is being
punished by remorse-too frequent Sc
Quencel
At last, making tremendous effort
over herself, June goes back to the sofa
and sits down at a little distance from
him.
Il have something to tell you," she says.
in a trembling voice. mo, do not come
near me, do not touch me, until you have
heard it; perhaps, afterward, you will moi
want to-"
feeling of stupefaction comes over
Tom. What can she mean?
Then June turns her face from him and
begins to cry piteously.
"Oh," she sobs, 'how can I-how can
tell your
What do you mean?" cries Tom, at
his wits end, unable to believe a breath
against her, but unutterably panied and
mystifed by her words and her agitation.
DO you remember" she says at last,
"when-when your cousin was here in
the SUMNER
Dali What is this? Tom feels liter
ally turning to stone. He cannot speak.
You went away for a day or two, and
and l saw a good deal of him, and
fancied"-oh, poor, poor June, the agony
of this confession!- that l was in love
with him and he with me, and''-suddenly
checking herself, and speaking in a strain
eed unnatural voice-"he kissed me-"
Tom is dumb; If any one had plunged
the knife up to the hilt in his heart. he
does not think the agony could be dead
lier June, this model of purity, on whose
spotlessness he would have staked his
soul, kissed by Dallas,
She has buried her face in the sofa
cushions and is waiting with a bea ting
heart for Toms answer. There is huge,
long silence, and then a voice, distorted
out of all likeness to Toms, says:
"And-you-let him"
Silence, utter silence.
1t is enough. She does not deny it.
And, after giving her a full minute in
which to reply he gets up and walks
away, and June hears the door close upon
him.
She has lost him, lost the truest, brav-
est, kindest heart that ever beat. She is
quite sure now that she loves him, that
she would joyfully have been his wife,
that she has lost the chance Of immense
happiness, and that a blank, lonely lif'
spreads itself out before her.
She trembles at the bare thought of
meeting him again. How will she look
him in the face after this!
Mrs. Ellesmere is not surprised at din
ner to remark that June's eyes are red
from crying-that Is not an infrequert
event-but she is surprised, very much
surprised at the change in Toms man
ner toward his beloved one. The ex-
1.-bi ioh hoe cbor or riz zal
it ever since June became an inmate of
the Hall is gone, and is replaced by a
careful and studied politeness. Toms
mother hopes and believes that June has
been refusing to give him any definite
hone or to discuss the subject of mar
riage. The change in Toms manner has
In one way n beneficial effect on June;
it makes her angry. She feels that he
is unjust, and she resents injustice more
than anything else in the world. She has
told him this shameful secret Of her own
free will He is welcome to give her up
IL he chooses, but he has no right to treat
her in a way to arouse the suspicious of
others. June's conscience being guilty,
she fancies that the impression his be-
hayior may give is that it Is he, not she,
who has broken the tie between them.
Bat poor Tom has no idea Of giving her
up; he is suffering mortal agony and try
ing with all his might to conceal it.
June takes a book after dinner. She
will not bestow one look upon Tom. He
tries to read the paper, but glances COW
ertly at her from behind 1t and wonders
IL this awful thing she has told him can
be true-wonders why she should be an
CRY, which she evidently is, and, most of
ali. longs to take her In his arms and say
he forgives her. and to hear from her that
she really and truly consents to be his.
Mrs Ellesmere, waking from her dose,
goes off to her boudoir to write some let
ters. Tom sits for about ten minutes
thinking how he shall approach his lady
love, when she saves him the trouble by
turning round, laying her book down ana
saying coldly:
Il have made up my mind to leave this
house tomorrow. Under the circum-
stances it will be much the best thing L
can do. feel that have already tres
passed too long upon the hospitality OF
Mr. and Mrs. Ellesmere."
Miss June, who has such a love Of JUS
tice, can be trile unjust herself under
the influence of anger. June In tenn
per is quite a new spectacle to Tom: he
Is positively daunted by the manner OF
this slim young girl. He springs from
his chair in a moment, crying;
"What do you mean, my darling
II am not your darling" returns June
waving him of - shs 1efA with Res