Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1898-11-23

that seemed to come and go, to rise and
tade, with every thought.
The features were clearly cut, the lips
! ripe and fresh. the eyes large and dark
| the brows straight the forehead low and
! broad, crowned with q diadcm of golden
| hair; and it was this strangely beautiful
! mixture of dark eyes and fair hair that
made the rare charm of Violante Temples
face.
CHAPTER II.
The lover who pleaded so earnestly with
>er was so.1e years older than Niolante
As Lord Vivian Selwyn stands there
ones eyes rest on him i'll admiration. lie
presents "A marked contrast tn the young
girl by his side; she is fair and graceful
be dark and stately: she is winsome AND
sweet, he has all the dignity of grand
old race: her face is gentle and flower
like, his descended from crusaders and
cavaliers. brave and noble; she is delicate
: and fragile, he strong. with a martial all
: that agrees well with his broad shoulders
[ his open chest and magnifcently develop
| ed limbs.
! He had wooed her with such loving, ten
! der words. she had no power to resist
| Last night" it was true he had taken heI
! by surprise, and she had confessed she
! loved him. but for long hours afterward
| she had been busy thinking; prudence and
/, common sense told her the difference Be'
| tween them in rank, position and station
] in life was too great. and that she had
better fly in time from the dazzling dream
All day the lovely young face had worn a
grave, serious expression, and the dark
eyes had been shadowed with care. How
could she, Violante Temple, the daughter
of country lawyer, whose only boast
was a good and honored life-how could
she take the place of. Lady Selwyn, OF
Selwyn Castle?
So she had spent the day in shaping
great resolves. She would see him once
more, and tell him it could never be-that
he had better go and leave her; for II
could not end happily, her own instinct
told her So. All day the sweet, flower
like face had been shadowed with these
thoughts, and in the light, sunshiny af-
ternoon she had gone to her favorite
nook, the stie in the lane, to sit there and
shape her thoughts into words, when a
hand, whose clasp she knew well, touched
hers. and the voice she loved best said:
"Violante, l have been looking every.
where for you. l have come to ask you
if you meant what you said last night,
II
And before she knew what to reply he
had raised her from the moss-covered
stone on which she sat, and they were
standing under the delicate, dropping,
golden laburnums.
Il meant what l said," she replied,
shyly: but l can never be your wife,"
Then in good order as she remembered
them she made use of all those sensible
,yh do
Il am twenty-five years DID," he said,
smilingly. Il am my own master; l am
rich and prosperous, and l love only one
woman in the world. Yet you tell me
cannot have her for my wife. If she is to
De won by prayers and by love, she shall
be mine, Violante; for life will be all
blank to me without her."
One by one he vanQuished all her argr-
ments, and at last, with her hands clasp
I'd in his, she had promised to be his wife
to love him, to be true to him. to care
for him, and him alone, until she died.
What will my father say?" cried the
girl suddenly. He has not the faintest
! ;dea, Vivian, that you have spent these
| GUNNER weeks in falling in love with me" ?"
HE will be very pleased. and will say
have spent my time WELL" was the
| smiling reply.
HE will never believe 1 am old enough
! to be married." she cried, with low,
delicious laugh, sweet as the chime of
! bells
When Mr.. Temple returned that even
| ing to Oakside he was surprised at the
merry voices and happy faces awaiting
| him.
His daughter-his little Violante-to be
married. His little girl, who had made
| his tea, mended his socks and attended
| to his comforts, to become Lady Selwyn
Of Selwyn Castle, one of the grandest
| ladies in the land!
You have no objection?" said Lord
Vivian to Mr.. Temple; you are willing to
give Violante to me-?
Il am simply bewildered,". was the
truthful reply. Il do not know whether
to be angry and refuse you-to tell you
such nonsense must be forgotten-or
! whether l ought to give you both my
blessing. l am bewildered, as have new
er been in life before"
Take some time to consider, SIR" re-
piled the young lover; Il shall be a,
Woodeaves ten days longer"
That night, while his daughters golden
head lay at rest. and her fair face smiled
peacefully, Horace Temple. sat up to
think, and consider what it would be best
to do.
He himself had married young; he did
not remember whether he had been very
passionately in love with his own wife
or not. but he had made his wife very
happy. he had provided for all her wants:
she had lived a commonplace, happy life
in the pretty home at Oakside Two
children were born to them there; Berthe.
the son, and four years afterward. Nio-
Iante, a lovely, dark-eyed, fair-haired
daughter.
Then, quietly and gently as she had liv-
ed, Mrs Temple faded away and died, not
Of any acute or painful disease, but Of
slow, lingering d .cline. She faded om
of life as the colors die out of the west
~rn sky: dying - gently that those VIII"
watched her did not know when sleer
ended and death came.
Her death certainly reused Horace
Temple: it reused him into greater ten.
derness for his children. Before that he
had been contented to see them morning
and night, then leave them to their moth.
er's care. now he tried his best to be faith
or and mother both.
VioIante was easily managed; she had
lessons at home, superintended by him.
and the result was the strangest educa-
ton a yc;My lady ever received. She
I learned Latin: she was well versed in the
English classics: the history, the Etera-
ture of her own country, were all famil-
lar to her: she could draw with exquisite
skill: she sang nothing but old English
haliuGs. but those she sang with the pur-
est. sweetest voice. with wondrous pow
er of expression that completely charmed
all who heard her.