The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1899-05-25

plantations to Count German on my De-
half" began Bernard haughtily; but
her beseeching glance arrested hin.
"Ah," said she, reproachfully, why
will you not allow others to know you
as good and noble as you appear TO
me? What is this mystery that sur
rounds your"
The black cloud came sweeping over
his face, the gloomy fire lent it's CLEAN
to his eye, and with a bitter, bitter
sigh, he said:
1T is my fate. l cannot help 1t. l
wonder that you do not also shrink
from me. You who know more OF the
mystery than any other. Do not let
pity keep you here, Lady Violante.'
"Alone!" sighed she in return. i
would there was less concealment-
and yet 1 must own it is not pity, not
even gratitude, that draws me toward
you"
what then?" demanded he eagerly.
"Sincere, earnest friendship" replied
she in clear. steady tones-the sincere
eyes never blenching from his 1mpas-
stoned gaze. 81 like you, 1 see so much
that is good and noble beneath this
cold mask o strive to wear. mere
is genuine affinity betweee our minds
and it grieves me that others can
not share in my appreciation of your
worth"
He checked a bitter smile, to say
m~ournfully:
1T is your own surprising goodness
not any worth of mine; and you know
aofh;n~ of roa-nnf ovnn NV nam1-if
l be noble or peasant, rich or poor, in
nocent or guilty"
NAY" said she, catching only at one
idea, mo one could think of you as a
peasant-your very carriage assures
one of noble blood!'
Again, a scornful, cynical smile was
repressed as he turned his face from
observation-and then he said, with a
gravity. that was almost solemn:
Lady Violante, l am a mysterious
being-isolation and danger and mys-
terry are my portion; but again 1 as
sure you it is my misfortune, not my
deserving. Very sweet and precious to
me is the sympathy you have given
these days, filled with pain though
they have been, are the happiest of my
sorrowful life. That l was the humble
instrument of saving you from a
frightful death, will be a cause of
thanksgiving and rejoicing to my dying
day-and yet l am so proud that any
attentions shown to me by o out of
gratitude to that, become hateful and
repulsive. o, Lady Violante, 1, so I'M
loved and alien to all the rest of the
world, cannot afford to lose the sweet
drop in my bitter cup. Think not of
what is due your preserver, but care
for me for my sake"
The fair girl looked at him wistfully.
The rapidly blushing and paling cheek
betrayed the agitation he strove to con-
ceal. The starting tear that only for
a moment dimmed the eagle eye, moved
her deeply. .
Strange mortal!" said she, holding
out her hand with the tenderness of a
woman, and yet the dignity of a queen
How many times already have you ex-
torted from me that aside from all ]
owe you 1 cannot help admiring and
loving you"
He bent over her little hand, and
with the one respectful kiss fell a burn
ing tear.
God bless you! come what will here
after, | shall be able to say, the cup Of
joy has once been lifted to my lips
and the memory of this moment shall
have power to Danish my gloom
Come" said Violante, taking up a
book from the table, you shall finish
the poem We began yesterday. Never
heard l reader before, who could SC
magnetically charm the ear. All
through my ride with the Count, l was
longing to return and finish the book
with you. Let us not waste the time
for when my father is free from the
old Counts visit in the library, he will
make his usual call here, and interrupt
u.s."
NJ. Bernard took the book, but paused
to say;
"The old Count Germain! l have
heard of him; what sort of a character
do you give him."
Indeed | can hardly tell. He is Ger,
tainly variable. At one time, genial
courteous and charming-and theT
again, so morose, reserved and suspic,
lCuo AO GullS lIlSulCuS ms rum HiLl
But his SON.
Never mind his son. interrupted
her companion with a frown.
Poor, young Count Germain! wha.
persistent dislike you manifest fol
him. said Vlolante, laughing-"whilt
he is SO extremely anxious to know
you"
"a single meeting would suffice fol
us BOTH" muttered Bernard.
DO you know him?" asked the girl
with a new suspicion.
The abruptness of the question
= startled him, and he faltered:
Il did once-that is, I have heard
and then waiting to collect hi
= thoughts, he added, b~itterly-"be sure
t if you arc a friend to either of us, wv
will never bring about a meeting, .
e mention the name of one to tn
Il other"
Lady Violante was lost in deep an
evidently painful meditation. H
6 watched her face uneasily, and ventl1
n ed meekly:
y 81 told you l vas made up of mys
e teries-do not try to pierce them, an
Y veX yourself over what will be ur
n fathomable and unsatisfactory. LII
the Germans be banished from on
conversation benceforward. and it wi
a he nIeaSaDter far rS both Now for M