The Neihart herald. [volume] (Neihart, Mont.) 1890-1901, 1899-08-05
CHAPTER III.

tried to wait as patiently as l could.
1t was a lovely evening in late June,
and the drowsy hum of the bees,
mingled with the breath of roses and
syringas, coming from the old English
garden behind the walk, sent my
thoughts wandering back to another
evening in June, just a year ago, when
l had sat on the same bench, burning
with love and suspense, waiting to
ask the fair lady who had given me
tryst today to be my wife. We had
known each other from childhood, and
during my sisters lifetime little Edith
had lived almost as much with us as
at the Hall. l remember l had pro-
posed to her at the early age of four
teen and had been favorably answered.
Eyes, Paul. the young lady had
said, lifting up her rosy lips for my
sheepish kiss. Il will marry you, as
you are the eldest, and have asked me
f1rst-and then, when you're dead I'll
marry Arty, If he's good"
To which arrangement Arty-at the
time being hopelessly in love with
Edlth's French governess, a black-eyed
vivacious damsel of twenty-nine-
cheerfully agreed.
After that l saw nothing of her for
many years. My sister beginning to
all and being ordered to the South Of
France, l spent my holidays for some
years with her and my father
at Riviera; then I passed into Sand
hurst, and, after that, l had Ave years
with my regiment in India.
In the meantime matters had not
gone smoothly at home. My handsome
brother Arthur, destined for the bar,
and who was supposed to have all the
brains Of the family, turned out to
DE a desperate scamp and an unmiti-
gated fool. He disgraced himself at
Oxford; then, throwing aside all sense
most prolific crop of wild oats ever
chronicled in the sober and respectable
annals OF the Dennyses of Colworth.
Before he had reached his twenty-sec-
ond year he had squandered two con-
siderable ~fortunes-one left him by his
mother, whose favorite child he was
another by his godfather, besides
plunging my poor father into a gulf
Of debt that eventually fastened his
death. Hearing of his critical state
and heavy troubles, l resigned my COM
mission and hurried home, only to find
him, alas, resting quietly In his grave,
and my wretched brother an exile in
tho wilde Of Alctro1ia nhifhar ha hQ6
gone to evade his creditors.
1t was a very dreary home-return-
ing, and bitterly did l anathematize my
precipitancy in giving up my profess
sion to moon away my life at Colwarth
in solitude. Nearly all the "chums''
of my boyhood had moved on some
how, except my immediate neighbors
at the Hall, the old General and his
nice; and l think, but for their kindly
reception, l should have started wan
dering again. The former 1 found
in a very precarious state of health
and temper, the combined influences
of govt and unlimited brandy-water
making him a trying companion to
poor Edith, who was however most
patient with aim. and as devoted as
any daughter could be.
At first I did not recognize in the
beautiful and graceful young lady who
greeted me so easily and kindly the
child 1 had played with years ago; but,
by degrees, landmarks of old times
cropped up, we found we had not for
gotten each other in the least. l fell
head over heels in love with her at
once, and for weeks lowered about
her in a state of beatifc suffering,
not daring to hope, and unable to
tear myself away. Day after day |
told myself I had not the slightest
chance. Was she not the most beauti-
full, charming, angelic creature in ex-
i~stence, besides being the presump-
tive heiress of the old generals vast
wealth? Was not every eligible
male in the country my rival? Yet,
l stayed, and by degrees the delight
full, intoxicating fact became clear,
ever to my bewildered senses, that she
showed more favor to me than to any
other sutton. She had always a smile
of welcome and a bright word for me,
and a times, when she believed her.
self unobserved, l have caught her
lovely blue eyes s~tealthily resting on
me with a look of unmistakable af-
lection that fired my blood, and made
me lose my head for the moment.
One day, driven to desperation by
one of those stolen glances, l resolved
to try my fate and learn the best or
worst. She had gone to spend the
afternoon at the Rectory, her uncle
told me, but would be back to dinner.
l went to the ce~dar-walk. knowing she
would return by that way, and spent
a feverish hour preparing for the at
tack, composing heart-rendering ap-
peals, declarations of eternal devotion;
and yet the moment she stood before
me in her blooming beauty, with a slim
white finger held under her nose with
In an inch of my moustache, and said
beseechingly-"Oh, Paul, dear boy, dc
try to get this wretched thorn out for
me! That stupid little curate only
drove 1t farther in, and 1t does hurt
sol" all the stored up ~eloqEence went
clean put OF my head.
When I had successfully, though
rather clumsily, performed the opera
ton, I fell upon my knees at her feet,
and, Selling her hand, pressed 1t to
my lips, as I stammered out raptur-
ously--
Edith. Edith, my darling, I love
you'll love you. oh. say it is not
In yoinf "