Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1899-11-13

troll"
Don't you know, weally, sometimes
l wondeh If life is life, or Is only a
blundeh? A twick of that devilish
fellah down yondeh, who's fooling us
all, don't you know?" quoted Estelle,
with light laugh, while her thoughts
ran on in bewildering riot, picturing
scenes and forecasting events until,
with start, she came back in Count
Corriellis last words.
Would she be content? Would life
of luxurious wandering suit her?
Would liberty and freedom and the
kaleidoscope of fashions, facts and
fancies, and the whirl of social life in
the great capitals, please her fancy and
amuse and delight and ever keep q
bright smile on her beautiful lips, and
a gladness in the depths of her glorious
eyes?
And would she honor the home of
his forbears, the castle on the cliffs,
with her divine presence, and see
beauty in the deep blue skies of Italy
and hear music in the beat and mur-
mur of the waves on the crags and
rocks of the shore?
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" said Estelle,
family and desperately, with white lips
and a despalring heart, while he stood
before her, holding with compassionate
tenderness her cold and trembling
hands.
Then long pause fell between them.
The wood fire burned cheerily, the
fretted brass work of the fireplace
cleaned and glistened as the fltful
flames rose and fell. That of the hand
some room, familiar to Estelle from her
bonny childhood to this eliminating
hour of her young womanhood, looked
| with sorrowful reproach at her mad
sacrifice, and her thoughts, tumultuous
and wild, worried her with clamorous
appeal, reprOacheS and surging, unde-
fined fears, until to still the pain and
tumult, she sank back on the amber
cushions of her chair and closed her
eyes.
The white bear on whose long fur
your feet are resting was driven, and
hunted, and finally trapped by decep-
tive cry, in the black darkness Of the
night, when, walled her thoughts, the
wild winds of the steppes caught up
and whirled the snow in eddies and
binding mists, while baff1ed and
wounded, he fell into the trammels Of
his captor!"
Estelle's thoughts sobbed and wrung
their hands.
The stiffness Of the library grew op-
pressive, and Estelle, drawing long
breath, looked up
The dark eyes were gazing down
compassionately and sorrowfully at her
lovely upturned face, whose varying
color and troubled look told tale Of
tentimes read by Count Corrielli in his
wanderings through the world.
caro- mio," he said gently, drawing
a chair close to hers and resuming pos
session of her hands. Il am better
than you deem me.
do you believe | would selfishly tie
your exquisite and reluctant youth TO
my gray hairs and sober years, and
imprison your loveliness within the
limits of a life, guided and gaudy, but
after all prison life little one, in
which your heart would cry out and
beat its wings until 1t lay dead, all
bruised for struggling SO Intellectually
against the walls of its living tomb?
No! No! Yours is the happiness
hold the most precious thing in all this
world, sweetheart; so not to me shall
| you sacrifice one second of your price
| less liberty or give one unwilling
thought in obedience to dictate which
comes not from the heart"
Estelle sat and listened, while a wave
of color swept over her face.
"See here, little one" continued the
count, with a faint half-sad smile,
which sat well on his careworn and
thoughtful face, Il came with mission
this afternoon"
"A mission!" repeated Estelle, vague
ly, while a sigh of unconscious relief
escaped her.
80 n
| the world and its incongruous inhabi-
| tants than yours Will you not believe.
child, that my knowledge of others, and
love for you, will give me greater In
sight into intent and motive than you
can possess?"
Il suppose so," acquiesced Estelle,
| still too bewildered by the singular out
come of the counts proposal to draw
any special conclusion, while curious
hopefulness began to stir and assert
itself within her breast.
Then accept my advice and attach
no Importance to gossip rumor.
And again caro- mto, let no false
barrier stand between you and that
happiness which will surely crown a
glorious young life if you only will.
But monsieur lie comte--" began
Estelle, while her thoughts, now riot
ing in gladness, sang curious and ex-
hilarating songs In her ears. Il hardly
know"
You will later" said the count, ris-
ing to go.
you will realize, in looking back to
this hour, the wisdom of the advice
your old friend now gives you, and you
will partly understand the immensity
of his sacrifice and of his undying de-
votion to the sweetest woman in all the
world"
Raising her hand to his lips, Count
Corrielli turned to leave the room,
where Estelle stood uncertain and be-
wildered, when the heavy curtain in
the doorway was again drawn and
someone paused in the doorway.
"Mr. Darlington will complete the
tale. Adeu mignonne," said 6oun,
Corrielli, as he passed slowly out, with
a courteous greeting to Estelle's latest
visitor
He came forward with quick stride,
| and
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