The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1899-05-07

years past, he himself had shown no sign of
preference.
The handkerchief had not been thrown to
any one of the fair damsels who still sighed
in vain.
In London it was the same story
The marketable damsels Of Mayfair angled,
it is true, somewhat differently from their
ccuntry-bred sisters, and baited their hook
with another bait; but they angled no less
asSiduously.
Mammas in Belgravia gave dances, dinners,
what not, all in the fond hope of securing a
good old name and title for their daughters,
but Adrian impervious.
His heart remained adamant until the fatal
dag when his dark, splendid eyes lighted on
the fair perfect beauty of MaviS DunScOmbe.
1t was in a tiny creeper-covered cottage on
Lord Carolin's estate that Mrs. Dunscombe
had lived.
She had been the widow Of an officer, who,
dying in India had left her but poorly pro-
vided for, her sole source of income being her
pension; and now she was dead, and with
her her pension, leaving Mavis with but a
small annuity which would cease upon her
z1st birthday-she was now seventeen years
of age.
Chance had brought the mother and daugh-
ter to the retired Col nish village, where the
last five years of the girls young life had
been spent-happy, happy years!
The rent of the wee cottage had tempted
them
short, it suited them.
And Mavis had grown to womanhood in
an atmosphere of love, untainted by the
snares Of a world only too ready to wipe the
bloom from the peach, to open the eyes of
innocence, and destroy the illusions of youth.
Such was the girl whom Adrian loved, with
the only love of which such one as he was
apable-self1sh, exacting, wavering. All
present he loved her madly, pass1onately; sc
he told himself and her.
To the of ha ca+o NIT,
fattery, its hollowcess, the fresh young
charm of Mavis came as a revelation and
in the more serious moments of his solitude
he vowed that he would never bring shadow
of sorrow or shame over the brightness OF
her SOUL
| Alas! for human resolutions.
He. had come upon her in her grief, three
short weeks ago, in the very spot where they
now sat clasped in each others arms, and
gazing upon her unseen, had felt his tickle
heart go out to her.
| Hers he had won, perhaps, too easily
| Lightly gained, with men of Adrian's
stamp, too often means lightly held
| The afternoon shadows fell upon them: still
I they sat whispering loves low whispers
| "And now, my dearest, about your future
Have you made any plans? I cannot leave
my bird in such lonely nest as Myrtle Cot
| tage alone, and 1 must go to town shortly
said Adrian at last, putting her gently from
him. but still retaining her small hand. an6
looking into the pure depths of her wonder.
full eyes.
ITO town! to London! oh, Adrian!" and
the red lips quivered like a timid child's
How lonely 1 shall be! Plans? Oh no;
how could 1 make plans now without you?"
Adrian frowned slightly; he hated RESPONSE
| bility in any shape or form.
| ''You are angry. What have said to vez
your" Mavis exclaimed, with loves quick
instinct.
''vexed me, darling? No, of course not:
but you see, we must think about the future
bore as it is! My father being absent from
the Towers, at present he knows nothing OF
my bird or our secret
| Secret, Adrian Need we have a secret
from him? Will he be very angry with you
| for marrying meat our marriage?"
| And she hid her blushing face from he1
lovers eyes.
| Adrian started, and the frown deepened
| 1t was the first time the ominous word
marriage" had passed between them, and
now it was Mavis who had used it,
| 'Marriage!' The very word suggested a
whole train of thoughts, which, to judge by
the expression Abrams face, were de-
cidedly unpalatable.
| 1--WE will talk about your plans and your
future later on, Mavis-''
| And Mavis remarked with a strange chill
| at her heart, that it was not 'our plans" hut
| yours"
! Come I will see you home. 1 am dining
at my unce's, Lord Mountjoys, tonight
], Saying this, Adrian rose, and together they
!! passed through the woods to the cottage