Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1899-07-22

OR.
Half a Truth.
ny "THD


projecting root, and, Selling a sapling
above, swung himself easily to q higher
ledge, where, his left hand still grasping
the tree, he turned and stretched out his
hand to Valerie.
"Your hand, fairy; you can't get up here
without help"
NO" she said, laughing, and giving him
her hand. 81 should want to be as tall as
you for that"
Put your foot there-that's it,"
In a second she stood beside him, flushed
mot all with the climbing and painting a
little, looking down on Lord Westbrook
toiling upward, because she hardly cared
to look at her companion.
And he-he had dropped her hand, look
Ing down, not On Lord Westbrook, who
might be an hour coming up for all he
cared, but on her, and feeling that he
Had given oil other bliss,
And all his worldly worSl for this
To waste his whole heart In ono kiss
Upon her perfect lips"
"Lord Westbrook doesn't get on very
quickly" said Valerie, TO break the silence,
which made her tremhle inwardly.
"He is just below that shrub" returned
Beauregard, pointing to one that hid him
"A little to the right, Westbrook-so.
Shall we go on now, Fairy Queen' We
are not very far from the top. Yesi Give
me your hand, then; it will be easier So"
She put the little white hand in his, and
they e on, hand in hand.
To Valerie IL almost seemed as II she was
carried upward, so easy did her compan.
ions supple strength make the way for
her; and every pulse was throbblng with
H. -, -,n 49,, 90 hsu nlagn and thA .a,.a
he called her was ringing in her heart q
wild, joyous chime-the sweet old name
by which II seemed as II he meant to con.
tradict her hard, reckless words, that one
month chased away the memory Of anoth-
er.
And at length-was it too soon or not
soon enough, how could Valerie know'-
they reached the top Of Mervyn's Hill, and
stood on the broad plateau, partially COW
cred with trees, and Valerie utter%1 a cry
CT delight, and snatched her hand from
Beauregard's, to clasp it with her other
hand over her bosom.
"Oh!" she said, under her breath, chow
beautifulv"
Hill, and wood, and stream, lay before
them, all bathed in the August sunshine;
an immense stretch Of country, fading full
Internationally miles away, into purple
distance.
The girl moved forward a few steps, and
stood rapt and motionless-her lips quiv-
ering, her dark eyes shining like stars, her
whole being drinking in the w>ndrous
charm OF landscape beauty, yet not forget
f~ul-never for one second forgetful-of the
silent presence near her; rather were her
senses the more deeply imbued with ma,
lures loyeliness because he was there-the
centre of her universe; for all the pain,
Love took up the glass of time, and turned Il
In his glowing hands;
Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself II
golden sands"
For him also2 All that whisper stealing
through all the chambers of her heart;
those memories-nay, not memories, for
they were ever present-it was not then,
but nom-of tones, Of looks, OF words, two
years ago; yesterday; to-day; a clasp OF the
hand, a kiss that spoke more than a mo-
ment's impulse-ay, even bitter words; for
why the bitterness without the woundp
Did he, even while he despised her, love
her? Had he loved her, then-then, when
honor had sealed his lips, and she, in her
blindness, had made him believe her I'M
worthy the love Of any high-souled mani
Had she flung her life away-and his, too,
maybe? Or was 1t only madness to dream
that, sunk so low as she must be in his
eyes, he could love her?
Beauregard had drawn back little from
Valerie's side, and stood leaning against a
tree, with eyes that saw the landscape only
as the background to q figure; but after q
few minutes he moved nearer TO her, and
spoke softly:
Are you repaid the toll of the ascent"
She half turned.
"Ohl yes, yes!' she said. at is lovely
80 wide and free"
She stopped, and stretched out her hands
with an unconscious gesture Of longing, to-
ward the distant hills.
"If you had the wings Of a dove" said
Max, in the same soft voice, 'you would
flee away-and be at rest2"
Buc Valerie's hands dropped before her,
tightly clasped, her eyes went back to the
hills; she had no answer; there was no rest
for her-save one!
Why did he ask the question: Did he
mean that for q nature false to itself there
was no rest?
But in the moments pause that followed,
a voice broke upon the stiffness, and Max
Beauregard, with the readiness Of q man
of the world, turned to meet Lord West
brook with light, laughing words. Per.
haps, too, there was a certain relief In the
intrusion Of the commonplace, saving him
from a step that, once made, could not be
petracted.
"Well," he said, "you have reached the
top at last. What do you think Of the
view?"
"Beautifulp' replied the young man,
pleased, but hardly enraptured; there was
not much poetry in his composition, and il
1t had not been for Valerie he would not
have taken the trouble of a steep climb to
see what lay before him. His pleasure was
damped, too, by annoyance that Beaure.
gard had taken Valerie out Of his hands.
Beauregard saw this rs plainly as II
Westbrook had expressed it in so many
words; but he sauntered away and left the
young man to talk to Valerie ut his leisure
He was not in the least Jealous of Lord
Westbrook.
"Valerie would never marry a poor man.
he said to himself, bitterly.
But Valerie had nc desire for a tete-d-tet,
with Lord Westbrook.
eve must not linger here too long," sh,
said, cor Mrs. Dudley will be waiting FOL
u.s."
"Why such a hurry3" exclaimed Lore
Westbrook, repIoachfully.
But the words only made Valerie quicker
her steps, walking hastily and heedlessly
across the gnarled, spreading roots OF
giant beech, and suddenly her foot slipped
with a sharp cry OF pain she reeled. but be
fore she could fall, Max B~eauregard, not
many feet from her now, sprang forward,
and flung his arm around her.
Valerie, my child, are you hurt?"
But trying to answer him. a deadly pal
lor swept over her ace, her head fell back
against him; for the first time in her life
she had tainted.