The true Democrat. [volume] (Bayou Sara [La.]) 1892-1928, 1898-02-19

ClSSNgNAyE1NSS VI tue many you
l11ykN&SS have + airted with !; ,
q V0O'0 w = aside as if they
were children? All! God never
created any creature more cruel than
beautiful coquette without heart! Do
not denyit! You have used every charm
you possess to make me love you, and
have succeeded. You shall listen to
me now. I love you! I love you! ]
love you! Nay, do not speak. I will
not take your final answer to-day. To-
morrow I will come for it. All! if il
is''Yes, I swear that you shall never
regret it. If it is NO. then you will
have sent one more man. to 'hell!" and
without another word Jack Armstrong
turned on his heel and left abruptly.
Hilda Phare lookedlafter his retreating
figure with vogue sense of shame.
She had won the love of the woman
hater," but the victory was leaving a
sting in even her hardened coquette
conscience, though she tried to feel
herself aggrieved at his outburst.
"As if I can help men falling in love
with me. I cannot marry them all.
certainly do like Captain Armstrong,
but don't like matrimony, I want
to keep my freedom little longer first.
A pretty girl can at any time easily get
engaged, but it requires an ugly girl
to easily get disengased, so that even
beauty has its drawbacks" she con-
cluded, with little soft laugh. Then,
with the unconfessed desire to drive
the recent interview from her mind,
she took up q society paper and soon
forgot all the crumpled rose leaves of
her happy, careless life in the pleas
ure Of reading a description Of the
dress the beautiful Miss Phare wore
at the Queens ball, where, 'as::the belle
OF i, the season, she was the cynosure of
all eyes,"
my dear Hilda, have you heard the
dreadful news?' The girl look up
from the comfortable wicker chair
where she was reclining lazily under
the shade of the old oak on the lawn.
mo, what news?" she asked, indif-
terently, for her portly aunt's face
looked more important than Mortified,
as she stood by her niece's side, hold
ing large white and green lined sun
shade over her bare head.
Mrs. Chester shot her husband
and that pretty Miss Dene yesterday
afternoon, and then killed herself"
"Oh, how dreadful! What made
her DO it," exclaimed Hilda, thor
oughly reused now, as she sat bolt
upright in her chair.
"Well, it appears that she caught
him kissing this Miss Dene, to whom
ne mad been engaged before he mar
ried his wife for her money. Fancy
shooting both of them like that!"
"What wicked, cruel woman. Mrs
Chester must have been. It was only
Yesterday morning I rode over to Hill
Hall to see her new Paris dress. It is
quite horrible to think that I have
touched the hand of a murderess," and
the girl gave a shudder.
Yes, it is, indeed! I an so very
sorry for their poor little daughter, but,
OF course, I can never allow Jessie and
Pussie to play with her again. must
go now, for want to write and tell
your Aunt Mary all about it. She
will be so Observation-Disclosures, I
mean" and she returned to the house
with that feeling of pleasurable impor-
lance we all experience when we are
the first to tell the news of some
calamity that has befallen our friends.
Left to herself Hilda sank back in
the wicker chair and tried by reading
to distract her thoughts once more,
but this time from thinking of the
tragedy at Hill Hall. The heat, how
ever, made her drowsy, and the paper
soon dropped on the grass from the
nerveless fingers, and the lids soon
dropped over the beautiful eyes.
Suddenly choking sensation
caught the sleeper's throat. She tried
to move, but could not. Was she dy-
ing-dying out there alone On the
lawn? She felt her breath coming
quicker and quicker, her strength
ebbing faster and faster. Then she
seemed to lose all consciousness.
"Where was she now? Who were
those?" she asked one standing beside
her.
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