Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1899-04-15

not seem to hear question or answer. She
heard both, however.
The carriage stopped, adieux were said,
and Mr.. Lawford and his sister departed,
Valerie bidding q rather Indifferent good.
night" to the former.
"Is Mr.. Lawford going to Romef" she
asked, when she and her aunt were seated
ut supper.
II don't know, my dear. But why do
You ask In that tone-as If you didn't wish
~ don't; much"
"Why not, Valeriei Thought you liked
him." A pretty shrug.
"He is plain and prosaic," she said.
Nonsense, child! Do you want every.
body to be like a hero of ronancef"
Valerie thought of Max Beauregard, and
suddenly laughed out.
Mr.. Lawford is far enough from that"
she said.
"Ahl well, go to bed now, and wake up
wiser" said her aunt, lightly, and Valerie,
nothing loath, obeyed; not because she was
tired, but because she wanted to read her
precious newspaper.
Give me a dressing-gown, F~anchon."
she said, when the maid had removed her
~ uANccf UNIV NlCH AOu HGtu uOl
wait. / am not going to bed Just yet"
Fanchon brought a dainty pink dressing.
gown bedeckCd with lace; and thus attired,
and with her pretty feet in embroidered
slippers, Valerie seated herself on the
lounge by the open stove and began to read
the papers.
Suddenly she clasped her hands together
with almost a cry Of JOY, while the blood
rushed over cheek and brow.
Captain Max Beauregard had been ap-
pointed to the c%olonelcy of the -th, vacant
by the death of Colonel -, passing over
Sne intermediate stage on account Of his
distingu he'd services.
All. how glad Valerie vast now her
heart swelled within her! She read over
and over through proud tears the words
that seemed printed in goldl Then she
laid the paper down, and sat gazing into
the fire, slowly locking and unlocking heI
hands: then she turned to the other papers
(she had been looking at the Standard,
II found the news repeated in the Globe.
Yes, there was no doubt about its truth.
Why should there be? 1t was only Max
Beauregard's due. How happy he would
be to have won this distinction! How lap.
py would be all those who loved him!
Presently the girl rose and went to her
desk, and, opening IL, unlocked an inner
drawer, and drew out something wrapped
carefully in tissue paper. AS she did so,
her fingers trembling, her cheek flushed,
her bosom heaving, her eye fell on her own
name and present address on n foreign en-
velope lying in her desk. She paused ab-
ruptly; her whole face changing-blanch.
ing-a sudden horror in her eyes. That
letter. received OILY yesterday from Louis
was like n silent witness, starting up be-
fore her TO accuse her. She had fought
down her conscience, aud in q flash she
was brought face to faGo with It.. Words
in that letter-words Of faith and endear.
m~ent-rushed confusedly across her. They
had not made her heart beat AZ il beat lust
now; they had not filed her with gladness,
as those printed words in n newspaper had
done. What was IL thrills through every
nerve only TO see or TO hear Max Beaure.
CARDS name that no word traced by Louis
hand, nay, his very presence, could pro.
duce! She looked from the letter to the
treasure she had come for; not Louis pic
ture, but hiS-MaX Beauregard's; she re.
moved the covering and caughthe breath,
as the eyes of the portrait seemed to meet
hers. Then, still keeping the photograph
In her hand, she shut the desk quickly,
and almost staggered back to the lounge,
and sank down, covering her face in agony.
She might have known it; she might nave
known il sooner! She had never loved
Louis. How pale and cold seemed her
tranquil affection for him-the same that
day he had asked her to be his wife as 1t
bad been all her ~childhood-to this pas.
5ionate absorption in another's identity;
this e~cstacy, those long, sweet reveries, this
cherishing OF all connected with him.
Her hand stole to the flowers on her breastl
Continued Next Week.)