The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1898-02-17
THE WORLDS JUDGMENT.

They were both guests at the same
cou.itry house, that autumn. He was
an artist handsome gifted, well born,
but poor as the proverbial church
mouse and proud as Lucifer. She was
an heiress, who, on attaining her ma
jority some three years ago, had come
into about $4,000 year. Added to this
attraction she was beautiful, clever and
charming. She was bright, high-spirit-
ed and very Independent, as suitors
soon found to their cost.
You'll be an old maid, Isbel," re-
monstrated the aunt with whom she
lived. ''You are nearly twenty-four, my
dear"
Il don't care, auntie," laughed the
young lady. AN old maid is as goiod
>as anything, thousand times better
than having a husband one doesn't
care for. I'm not in love, dear, and so
l mean to keep my freedom"
That was said-and said truly then
some weeks before she came on this
visit to Halcombe Grange and there
met the artist, Eric Errington but
could she have said the same as truly
now, when the visit was drawing to a
, close? The lips might, perhaps. The
heart was another matter entirely, and
she knew it. She was no tyro of a girl
in her teens. but a woman who lived
In the world and neither could nor
would deceive herself. She knew that
she loved Errington and he loved her,
edespite his proud reticence and silence.
What woman could not read between
the lines? What man could possibly
at all times completely guard every
look and tone and touch when thrown
so constantly each day with the loved
one? He Is unconscious how or when
his secret is betrayed to that one.
But no one save Isbel Brandon her.
self suspected Errington's secret. He
neither held aloof nor markedly sought
her. But there were one or two others
among the party who did so, and one
day Major Glyn, the host, said half jest
ingly to Eric:
, my dear fellow, why don't you try
your chance with the beautiful heiress
and win fortune, and Herewith
speedy rise to fame"
Thank you, not l." said the artist,
with laugh and shrug, to cover the
deeper feelings stirred. II have no in
tention of being ticketed fortune hum
ter by the world or the fair lady her
self. Even poor artist may keep his
pride and honor untarnished''
! But, Errington, nonsense!" Glyn
esaid. Suppose you really cared for
girl who happened to be rich?"
So much the worse for me, Glyn."
You really mean that you wouldn't
WOO her or ask her hand?"
Never" said the other.
This had passed on the terrace. Some
Nd ha l,o
window above drew back with uuiver-
! ing lips and heavng breast.
rs this terrible gold Of mine to be
ever, then, a hopeless barrier between
two lives?" Isbel muttered, locking her
white hands. He will never speak.
never breathe word, and what can
1.-The woman-say or do without
shame? And yet-yet-is gold and a
mistaken but noble pride and sense of
honor to keep us apart forever? I
know he loves me-would tell me so
at once were I poor. Oh, 1t is cruel,
cruel! Something ought-must be
done, but what?"
There it was; she the woman, was
so helpless. And shortly after this the
party broke up.
month later the artist, one evening,
received a letter from Isbel, and, to his
utter surprise and joy, oddly mixed
with pain, she wished him to paint her
portrait. Would he please call on her
at II the next day. OF course, he would
go, but how go through the ordeal with
out self-betrayal?
Isbel had to strive with herself much
harder for the ordeal she had at length.
with an infinite courage, resolved to
face. Therefore was it she had named
an hour free from all visitors, and when
her aunt, Mrs. Brandon, would still bo
in her own apartment. One of the two.
she saw, must cross the Rubicon and
BURN the boats behind IL both their
lives were to be saved from wreck. and
since he would not, well, she, the heir
ess, must whatsoever the cost.
When she was told he was in the
awing-room-when almost the actual
moment had arrived-her heart sank,
and at the very door she had to pause
a minute to pull herself together. Then
she went in. How the mans dark eyes
lighted up! How unconsclously close
was the clasp Of his hand on hers! If
she had had one fleeting doubt of his
love, that second must have dispelled It,
What plasure to see you again,
Miss Brandon!" he said. "And what