Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1899-01-25

hce, she was but woman-that one littl.
instance Of his Indifference hurt her NOR,
than his marriage had done. She laid hel
tlred head down upon the tai BILE and wept
hot, bitter tears
CHAPTER NX.
Picture long, winding road. bordered
/ on either side by tall trees. with over.
i hanging branches, the hedges brillia n,
with wild rose and woodbine, with climb.
ing foxglove and strawberry blossom. the
! thick. leafy branches meeting in some
places. twining their giant arms so as to
form shady arch, the sunlight falling
through and casting quaint, graceful
shadows on the ground. Then through
: the sunlit foliage, under the moving
boughs Of the tall trees, handsome
youth, with eager eyes and CLUSTERING
hair, rides slowly along, looking some
times at the sky above him, and some
times at the blooming flowers. A gal.
. liant, princely boy, with the face Of a cava-
ier. and the frank. grand smile of a
crowned king.
As he comes riding over the shadows
under the trees, the watcher by the gate
sees him at last, and heaven is merciful
to her that the sight does not strike her
dead.
Then a great mist came before her eyes
and dazzled her, a mighty sound as of
rushing waters filed her ears, a torrent of
love rushed through her heart, making
her tremble like leaf in the wind, for he
had stopped at the gate, and was speaking
to her.
She looked at him helplessly; her lips
parted, but were dumb; her eager, yearn-
Ing eyes were fixed on his face; her white,
nervous hands elutched at the bar of the
gate.
Il must steady myself" she thought.
II must remember by my own act l am
dead"
Good morning, Mrs. Rivers" CHEEKY,
rich voice was saying; Lady Beatrice
asked me to call and give you these"
Her own son-heaven help her-her
longing to fling herself under the horses
He flung the reins aside and ..s,nogst
ed.
II will fasten my pony to the gate" he
said, "and come inside, if you will allow
me, Mrs. Rivers. 1t is very warm, and
have ridden fast"
All! II she could but speak to him! II
she might but cry out: Rupert, l am
your mother! 1 am Violante Selwyn"
But the white, parted lips were still
dumb.
He, looking at her, thought her strange,
sad and quiet; but the widows cap and
the mourning dress accounted for that.
"You will not spoil me as Mrs. Browne
did, hope" said the laughing voice. "She
used to make such grand lemonade for
these warm days."
IL will give you anything l have,
she said with trembling energy.
He looked Mt her with little surprise.
Good and kind, but nervous" was his
mental comment.
..Will you really come into my house,?
she asked family, seeing that he went to-
ward the door.
That will, with many thanks for the
shelter" he said, leading the way into the
pretty little parlor, where Lady Beatrice
had sat SO lately. II am SO glad Of a
rest" said the boy, throwing himself on
tie couch. 1T is awfully hot, Mrs.
Rivers; how cool you look here. I should
like a glass Of water"
"Nay," she said softly; Il have some
thing nicer than that for you."
Ard she ran to the basket, loaded with
fruit. that Lady Beatrice had sent. Her
hands trembled as she took from it a
bunch of purple grapes, and a sunny,
blooming peach. She laid them on a
plate. covered a small tray with dainty
white cloth and took it to him.
How kind you are" he said eagerly;
but am robbing you."
"No. no." she told his hastily. 1t was
a thousand times more pleasure to her
that he should enjoy them.
And enjoy them he did. She sat down
near. where she could watch him eating
the luscious grapes. How her heart
xearned to him, her fingers tingled to
touch the bonny head, with its clustering
| ours, her lips burned to touch his face
once-only just once. She lowered round
him. she stood near him; she could not
| rcast her eyes enough on that frank, hand
| son,e face: all her soul was in her eyes
| and on her lips.
"These are NICE" he said. ITO tell the
plain truth, Mrs. Rivers. l do not get
many grapes at home. Lady Beatrice
| thinks boys should be brought up ike
young Spartans.'
/ Lady BeatriceT' she repeated.
Eyes" he continued; my fathers wlfe'
You know Lady Selwyn is not my moth
err" he added eagerly.
Not your motherv' gasped the white
lips. o.h.,
| ..Oh. no." he replied: my own mothei
| is dead. She was killed in a railway acci'
deut at Sedi, in Italy. My mother was
,s beautiful as an angel, Mrs.-klvers.
she murmured some reply; she never
knew what. 81.
Eyes" he continued decisiveiy: sh'
| vas iust AS beautiful as an angei. re-
r,emler her face quite well used 'e
drear:. of it for years: l dream Of 1t now
Such loving eyes. ouch sweet rps. ano
.ne used to kiss me so. She used to h"ie
me N her arms. and kiss me as fhougf
her heart was breaking. l do Eiiss ny
mother"
The handsome face grew SAD, anu 'h'
clear eyes filled with tears.
mo one is quite like your own mothef.
he said; "and mine loved me. MY tatne'
Ioften tells me how she used to teach me
land fear for me; how she always ionse,
to see me a good and great man. 90
mean to be. My mother il among lh'
langels; but she shall see how loved nel.
She can bear no more; she 10 weepinl
wildly now, kneeling at the foot OF the ~, II,
tie couch, her whole figure shaken wiz
deep-drawn bitter sobs. and ne Is stan"
ling over her in deep amaze.
| "What is the matter. Mrs. hiVers'