Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1899-06-24

'Poor WeStDrookV" repeated Beaure-
gard, smiling. "He doesn't look like a
martyr, does her Why should you pity
him'"
"Whyp" raising her white shoulders.
because he may be only another in the
auto dd fe Of victims"
"Ahl now You are not generous. You
ought not to blame a beautiful woman
for making conquests. How can she help
TT"
Mrs. Dudley blushed, we'll pleased by the
compliment.
"Ahg' she said, softly; but a beautiful
woman can be merciful."
"Why this sudden interest I'm Westbrook'
I shall begin to think you are jealous OF
Valerie" said B~eauregard.
"Ip Oh, no, nol' she exclaimed, earnest
ly, and raising her really handsome eyes
to his. "You nno think that, Colonel
Beauregardl'
Nor" he questioned, q~uizzically, and
ignoring the significance OF and glance.
"Why not3 You never weary Of
staying hearts"
Before Mrs. Dudley could reply to this,
Travers called:
Beau, come here a moment, please"
"No, no; don'ttrouble him!' Valerie said,
quickly.
But Beauregard rose, and approached
the table.
"What am I wanted forP" he asked, adj
dressing Valerie, who had before her an
album Of views taken at different parts Of
the park.
"Ohi' she said, "Major Travers need not
have troubled you, Colonel Beauregard.
We did not know what place this was"
Max glanced down at the book.
It was q view of a lovely glen closed in
by trees; but in the centre was n giant oak,
which spread it's branches "far and wide,"
and was n veritable king OF the forest.
''That place" said B~eauregard, careless
ly. lis the Abbot's Glen"
and thereby hangs q taleI' exclaimed
Travers. "What is it, Beau'"
But Valerie turned the a
Never mind it now" she said; but
Travers asked:
SIS the oak the Abbot's Oak, then,
Beaup''
"No," he answered; ''only the glen bears
the Abbot's name" and he turned back to
Mrs. Dudley's side and asked her to sing.
Was Valerie trying to win him by stab
bling him' 1t was a strange beginning.
Mrs. Dudley went to the piano. She sang
well, if somewhat artificially; and was
asked by Lady Elinor TO sing again. Then
Angela Musgrave, at Mrs. Langley's re-
quest, played, and Beauregard turned her
music for her.
Valerie rose from her place and took up
a more advantageous position for listening,
for Angela was a really good e%Xecutant in
music of the lighter kind-holding up her
finger when Lord Westbrook would have
followed her.
NO." she said, imperiously. "You talk
and l want to listen"
"But L"
81 want to be alonel' said Valerie, with
the independence of an acknowledged
queen; and she seated herself on u lounge
near one of the windows, apart from the
general circle.
1t gave her q little relief, a little breath
ing time, to sit here in comparative shadow
and ~obscurity, and to listen, like one in q
dream, to the barcarole Angela vas play
Ing.
The breathing time was not long. The
player ceased, and the guests crowded
round her, buzzing forth congratulations;
and then, after n moment or two, Max
Beauregard quilted the group, Inc ap-
preached Valerie. Her heart beat heavily
as he came near, but she did not move, and
scarcely locked at him.
valerie" he said, pausing by her side,
"will you not sing something's"
"If you like" she answered, raising her
self from her lounging attitude as If to
quit her seat.
"But not yet" said Beauregard, taking
the vacant place beside her; "Ihave scarce
ly spoken q dozen words to you this eve
ming"
Valerie sank back again, looking at him
through her long lashes.
Her manner was not encouraging, but
Max did not seem to heed it. He went on.
"And I have had nc opportunity of full,
filling my promise"
Your promise?" repeated Valerie.
"What promiseY"
But aver as the words passed L.r lips
she recalled what he had said earlier In
the evening about the park, and added,
quickly:
~ remember nowl / beg your pardon.
Yes, tell me what you meant"
"Only thisp' he bent little nearer to her.
There Is an old tree In the park-in the
Abbot's Glen-you saw the picture Of it
this evening-the Enchanted Oak!"
1t was the first allusion he had ever made
to that happy past when he had called her
the Fairy Queen and asked her to invite
him to her moonlight revels under the En-
chanted Oak. Why did he speak Of it,
The blood mounted to Valerie's cheek; she
turned her face aside; but otherwise she
sat motionless-not even q movement of
the hands, though she felt rs IL her heart
must cease to beat; yet Max Beauregard,
watching her, saw that his allusion had
gone straight home-had stirred a very
passion of emotion within her. The nobler
nature still strove against the crust Of
w%orldliness; she could contrast, with
shame, the present and tho past; she could
feel that she was better, happier, then, and
long for power to blot out the record OF the