The Yale expositor., 1900-05-11

George" she whispers. you don't
know Aunt Julia-she would freeze me
with a look; but if father says yes,
then she can't say anything"
But, my darling, how can l waltz"
urges the young man.
Barbara signs.
Aunt Julia would write out horrid
things to father" she says. And her
fingers just touch the rough tweed
sleeve beside her.
He laughs.
"Oh, yes; she could say lot against
me, l know. l am in debt, and of
course that's against a fellow; and /
did run a couple of horses at the Cur
ragh, and lost lot, too; and my dear
old mother will go about pouring out
her woes to Mrs. Savlle, and making
me out to be black sheep; but I'm
| not that, Barbara. I've you to work
for now, and I'll chuck the whole thing
up. I'll have one more plunge, and
then, If win, and the luck's bound to
come my way now, I'll pay up all
round and marry you, my darling,
with clean page"
So hopefully he speaks, who could
doubt him? Certainly not Barbara.
"You are my good angel, sweet
heart" goes on the man, bending his
fair head. Il know I've made a mess
Of my life; but it will be all different
now. You won't mind being a poor
mans life, will you, darling?"
II shouldn't mind anything with
you, George she whispers, her beau
tiful face aglow with feeling.
That's my brave little woman! I've
not got much you know, Barbara The
Grange comes to me at the mothers
death, and she allows me two hundred
a year. l wish now l had got pro-
fession"-a wistful expression of re-
greet softening his eyes as he speaks.
The only son of his mother and she
was a widow.
All, what story those simple words
contain! George Bouverie is his moth
er's idol, and sorely she means over
her darlings shortcomings. Her views
are not his views, and she regards with
horror his increasing infatuation for
horse racing, taste that is crime in
the eyes of Mrs. Bouverie.
To please her, George sold his race
horse, but took to betting, a fact that
need not be known to any one but
himself.
Only to Barbara he has poured out
his remorse and regrets over himself
and his backslidngs. To please her he
will give up everything, and Barbara
is content
Il wish could ask you in to lunch, >"
she says naively, as they reach the
gloomy entrance gates Of the Court.
heavily Swallowed with giant cypress
trees, and dank moss grows on the
pillars and the stone grifflns sur
mounting them.
George smiles.
Aunt Julia wouldn't be pleased to
see me, l fancy" he says, looking
down at her. Il know she wants that
sour Sebastian to marry you-she told
my mother So"
Their hands meet in a lingering
pressure when Sebastian himself APP
pears upon the scene, his face dark
as night, his eyes furious.
Morning. Bouverie," he begins,
with curt nod; and turns to Bar
bara. my mother is looking for you,
Barbara. Have you forgotten we have
an engagement this afternoon"
Barbara lifts her lovely eyes with
unconcealed scorn.
MY dear Sebastian, you know told
your mother l could not stand a 10
mile drive to drink tepid tea at Lady
Barry's. Not even your company, Sc
bastian, could compensate for such an
infiction."
Sebastian Saville may and does hate
young Bouverie; but the instincts of
hospitality cannot be ignored.
Wont you come in and have a bit
Of lunch, Bouverie?" he says. And
George, who realizes that 1t means an
other hour of Barbara's society, ac-
cepts.
together the three walk up the long
avenue, where gnarled oaks meet over
head, and in the woods at either side
the moss grows deep and soft.
George swings along with his
springy STEP and Sebastian looks with
envy at the young mans splendid fig
ure. He is tall himself, too, but awk-
ward, and his face is forbdding.
Barbara walks between the two
men, and Sebastian notices the height
ened color in her cheeks, the radiant
light in her eyes. She does not know
that he can read her secret in her face,
and the knowledge fills him with ang
er. Barbara is to be his wife; no idle
Irritation must come between them;
she is to be all his. Her beauty pleases
him, and he knows what Barbara is
ignorant of-that she will be an
heiress.
Barbara's father wished her to be
brought up simply, with no knowledge
of the worlds goods to fall to her lot
So whatever George Bouverie may pos
sess in the way of faults, he is no for
tune hunter-he loves Barbara for her
own self.