Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1900-03-10
~what are You laughing at2n severely.

"what are you laughing at?" severely.
"At me?' !.
"My darling, IL seems so absurd, and"
"IfoTbid you TO laugh" In tone replete
with anger but highly suggestive of tears.
'Don't do IT,"
"Tll never laugh again, my pet, II 1t Of
tends you so dreadfully."
But your eyes are laughing; / can see
them. l can see a great deal more than you
think, and / know that hateful girl has
made mp her nind TO marry you as soon as
ever she can"
''That will be never"
mot il you go on bringing her roses and
things"
"NYhat harm can a simple rose do?"
"If you are going TO look at II In that
light, / shall say no more. But I'm a very
little time you will find she has married
you, and then where will you be?"
Her jealousy Is too childishly open TO be
misunderstood. Mr.. Desmond's spirits are
rising with marvellous rapidity; indeed, for
the past two minutes he feels as Ii he Is
tread4ng on air.
"As you won't have me, / don't much care
Uhere / shall be-" he says, with the mean
hope Of reducing her TO submission by q
threat. In this hope he Is doomed to be dis
appointed, as she meets his base ~insinuation
with an uncovered front.
VERY good, 90 and marry her, she says,
calmly, as IL church, parson, and Miss Fltz-
gerald are all waiting for him, in anxious
expectation, round the corner.
mo, l sha'n't," says Desmond, changing
his tactics without a blush. Catch me at
It! As you persist In refusing me, l shall
never marry, but remain a bachelor forever,
for your sweet sake"
''rhen say you will not bring those roses
tomorrow. Or, better still, say you will
bring them, and"-all women, even the best
are c~ruel-'glye them 10 me before her."
'My darling! what an unreasonable thing
to ask mer
''Ohl i dare say! when people don't loue
people they always think everything they
do unreasonable"
This rather involved sentence seems TO
cut Mr.. Desmond to the heart.
"Of course, If you say that, l must do it,"
Don't do it on my account" with a will
full air.
mo, on my own, of course"
swell, remember l don't ask you to do
It." with the most ~disgraceful ingratitude.
'Do as you wish about It,"
Your wishes are mine" he says, tender
ly. II have had no divided existence since
that first day | saw you,-how long ago 1t
seems now"
VERY long. Only a few weeks in reality,
but il seems TO myself shat l have known
and-llked you all my life"
"Yet that day when ] saw you on the hay
cart is hardly two months Old" says Dcs-
mond, dreamily.
As a breath of half-forgotten perfume, or
a long-lost chord fresh sounded, brings back
H. ,,aY,rri.g 90 IN lfntfn1n on Inng thfn
chance remark of his now recall to her a
scene almost gone out Of mind, yet still
fraught with recollections terrible to her
self-lovc.
1.-TWO months, only ~two?-oh, 10 must be
more" she says, with a pang. Surely time
ought to lessen the feeling Of shame that
overpowers her whenever she thinks of that
fatal day.
81 think l should like to see it," she
says, softly.
"All0w me to take You to it," says Ryde,
quickly, coming to her side.
Miss Beresford is coming with me-" in
terposes Desmond. His face is pale, and his
eyes flash %Omlnously.
THAT is for Miss Beresford to decide"
";She has decided" says Desmond, grow
ing even paler, but never removing his eyes
" iilS llNhl 70 ~ 10 pi'g iib ""hbNAD"'
game, but even in the danger Is ecstasy.
And, as Monica continues silent, a great joy
fills his soul.
But ~until'-begins the Englishman, dog
gedly-"I hear"
Mrs. Bohun'S cup is causing her embar-
rassment. See to it," interrupts Desmond,
Internationally. And then, turning to Mon
lea, he says Come" coldly, but with such
passionate e~ntreaty in his eyes that she is
borne away by ii, and goes with him sub
misSively across the lawn, until she has so
far withdrawn herself from her companions
that a return would be %undignified.
They go as far as the entrance to the or
chard, a good quarter of a mile, in silence,
and then the storm breaks.
81 won't have that fellow holding you in
his arms" says Desmond, pale with grief
and rage, standing still and confronting her.
81 thought you said you would never be
Jealous again." says Monica, who has had
time to recover herself, and time, too, 10
grow angry.
81 also said l hoped you would never give
nv cause
Mrs. Bohun has arranged this t~ableaux."
"rhen disarrange it,"
'But how?"
"Say you won't act with Ryde."
"Iou can't expect me to make myself
laughable in that way"
Then III do It,"
And SO make me %laughable i'm another
way. / can't see what right you have to in
terferc," she breaks out suddenly, standing
before him, willful but lovely. What are
you to me, or | to you, that you should order
me about like this?'
you are all the world to me,-you ara
my lCife," says the young man, in n solemn
tone, but with passionately angry eyes.
You can refuse me if you like, but i shall
go to my grave with your image only In my
heart. AS 10 what 1 I'm to vOu, that is quite
another thing less than nothing, | should
say"
"And no wonder, too, considering your
Guful temper" says Monica, viciously but
her ton trembles.
At this he seems TO lose heart. A very
sad look creeps into his dark eyes and lin
gers there.
"Well, do what you like about these
wretched ~tablcauX," he says, so YEARLY that
Monica, though victorious, feels inclined to
cry. "lf they give you moments pleasure,
why should l rebel? As you say, / am moth
ing to you. Come, let us go and look at this
famous pear-tree."
But she does not stir. They are inside the
orchard, standing in a secluded spot, with
only some green apples and an ivied wall
to see them. Her eyes are downcast, and
her slender fingers are playing n~ervously
with a ribbon on her gown. Her lips have
taken a remorseful curve. Now, as though
unable to restrain the impulse, she raises
her eyes to his for a brief second, but, brief
"a =. 49, al... -. F-Ila ~ 49,.
BRIAN" she says nervously.
IL l., 1l,o 6r,t tin,a cha ho, ayar calIaJ him,