Gilpin observer., 1899-01-12

"Oh, Paul. dear. do help mo 10 get
rid OF this stupid man! I'm tired TO
death Of him, and he won't leave me.
You look tired yourself, and as II you
had quite enough of the festivity."
Il was thinking of going home. Are
you ready to come, Edie?"
Quite. Let US start at once; I'm sc
glad met you, Paul"
Bidding her cavalier an unceremon-
ious adieu, she put her hand within my
arm and we walked home across the
| fields, leaving the pony trap for Helen
to order whenever she liked.
The hours went by. Edie and / din
ed tete-a-tete, made music together,
took a moonlight stroll to the river,
still Helen did not return. At last.
some time after midnight. we heard
the sound of approaching wheels. and
presently she entered, with glowing
cheeks and glittering eyes, escorted by
Sir William Hernshaw, who she in
formed us had persuaded her to remain
to dinner at the Grange. where they
had had such a delightful dance after
wards; then, with a careless nod to me
and Edith, and whispered good night
to her escort, she went straight to be..
/ stood rooted to the spot staring after
her, until Edith's soft palm was passed
pityingly over my hand, her lips, close
to my ear, murmured soothingly:
Il am so sorry-so sorry, dear boy;
but you must make excuses for her;
she is young, you know, and from her
bringing up does not understand the
usages of society. If you like I'll give
her a hint tomorrow that English gen
tlewomen do not do those things. She
means no harm, I'm sure"
l could have no explanation with
Helen that night, for, when l went up
to her room, she was sleeping heavily;
and the next morning she rose at day
break, and did not appear at breakfast.
When | returned from the club at
Shorten. l found Edith established at
the tea table with her dainty work
strewn round her, waiting to pour out
my tea, just as l had pictured her. with
timid rapture hundred times during
the months l had courted her so rev.
crently; and my wife sitting under
tree on the lawn facing window. Jim
cuddled up in her arms, and Sir Will
liam Hernshaw's bold dark eyes look
ink into hers with undisguised admira-
tion.
l started from my seat with sudden
desire to kick him then and there out
of my grounds, when Edith, divlning
my movement, interposed.
Paul, Paul, for heavens sake re-
strain yourself. Think of the shame.
the scandal that would follow; and she
means no harm, I'm sure. oh, indeed,
I'm sure of that. I've not had the
opportunity yet of speaking to her,
but"
DO not seek the opportunity l in
terrupted fiercely; lit would be of no
use. I will speak to her; but think
she must be losing her head. 1 can't
make out what possesses her. l mar
ried. as l thought, harmless, inno-
cent child-married her through"
PITY, generosity, through the no.
blest spirit of self-sacrifice. Oh, l guess
the story of your courtship and your
marriage, my poor Paul! have
guessed it some time, and 1t has not
helped to make my lot lighter, to rec
oncile me to what l lost in losing the
the love of one of the truest, noblest
-ah, what am l saying-what am l
saying?" she cried, covering her face
with her hands and shrinking from me.
When l see you treated like this. II
can't help it, my heart speaks out. Oh,
go away-go away! Do not look at me.
please"
l was about to leave the room when
servant entered and handed Inc
letter. After reading it, l laid 1t 81
lently before my companion. When
she had read she turned to me with
burning face and sobbed family:
81 wish 1 were dead-oh, I wish i
were dead!"
Hush, hush," I whispered; you
you must not say that! Tonight, Edie!
it must be-"
She shivered.
"You-you will be with me, Paul?
You will be with me, Paul? You will
not leave me?"
(To be Continued.)