The Farmville herald. [volume] (Farmville, Va.) 1890-1934, 1900-04-13

'h"' lutule, Planned by her father
approved by all, urged so persistently
by her dear and loving old aunt and
pleaded for by Robert Horton. with the
silent, but passionate, entreaty of ewes
that never left her. and by a thousand
acts OF ceaselcss devotion, from which
her heart turned with a horrible in
gratitude, Aurore thought miserablv.
"Ah. but, little one, your aunt and |
are too old for such junketings." her
uncle resumed. with shake of the
head. You must listen to good advice
and let Robert be your guide and COM
panlon We will join you in the fall in
London or Paris, and settle down to
pleasant winter of enjoyment-such
q winter as your youth and beauty de-
serves"
With a loving gesture he went to-
ward the library in search of his mail.
and Aurore, with sigh, passed out on
the porch.
Aurore sat on the marble steps and
looked out over the moonlit garden. and
determined to have II out once for
all with her innermost thoughts. and to
come to distinct understanding OF all
those chaotic, troublous feelings which
had so insidiously taken possession of
her.
The faint chimes of the village
church bell came on the still, odorous
air, some fireflies went fitting through
the Towering shrubs, and a profound
melancholy took possession of Aurore
"a yearning she could not define.
while reason asserted itself with cold
insistence.
"You do not even know him. You
saw him for one short half hour, that
memorable night when wind and storm
were abroad; that winter night. whose
dawn severed the frail thread of life
so dear TO you.
"llow do you know" said reason,
that he remembers you? That he
has given you a single thought?
because he looked full and keenly
and long your vanity has supposed
that there was interest and admra-
tion in a glance only remarkable be-
cause il came from eyes of singular I
and splendid forcefulness.
"You must, you must thrust this silly |
recollection from heart and brain. You /
must get rid Of It. Bury it under cares.
ambitions. anything! And rub out /
from memory the lines OF that strong,
fine face, which haunts you so per-
sistently. so cruelty.
"What are his ties and affections?
You know not.
Had he cared to seek you, could he
not easily have done so?
Forget him. Blot him from memory,
and give a gracious hearing to the
friend Of your childhood, to the tried
and true affection of all these years,
which has never varied, never less
ened. and in doing so give pleasure and
happiness to those who have taken
you TO their hearts, and who shelter
you with their kindly love-"
So reason spoke.
And Aurore, glancing back through
the doors which opened down on the
porch, saw in the beautiful oak-pan-
eled room. rich In rare decorations, on
whose walls hung the portraits Of a
proud old ancestry, the handsome, ell
derly. gray-haired people whose cup
of content would be full. she well knew,
If the plan they cherished was carried
out to fulfillment.
Aurore leaned against the tall col
umn Of the porch and looked out at the
radiance of the night, and as the soft,
plaintive call of bird broke the still
ness 1t seemed to her that her heart
would beat its last pulsation and die.
this calm, glorious night of spring, for
in the intensity of its
deep, ineffable look came back the
face of her dreams, plain and distinct,
IN the soft shadowy light.
With a stifed cry Aurore covered her
face with her hands.
"Did / frighten yOu, Aurore?
thought you heard me. come out on =
The porch" said Horton, with a grieved
-agerness.
"What is It, sweetheart? You look !
IS If you had seen ghost. Why, you
ire trembling, and your hands are Icy :
old. What an impressionable little ,
,hld it is, in spite of its 20 years." said :
Horton, smiling tenderly, while chat
ng Aurore's hands with loving gentle
less.
"Now sit down and tell me what Il
-ou were dreaming about, and what (
wicked thoughts were absorbing you. a
hey must have been yillainous, to have "
,lanched your cheeks that way. k
"Why, Aurore. child, you are as pale +,
s these lilies brought you. know L
hey are your favoritc flower" "
Yes. Aurore's heart must have died r
rhen she gave that stihed cry, for 1t Il
eemed too cold and numb. But mem d
ry still Lived. for. holding the lilies OF n
he valley, she remembered that some II
ne had stopped and picked up from Il
he wet stones a few similar frail BIOS ci
oms. broken from her hand, one night "
ing ago. Fl
They sat side by side on the marble k
ieps, and the two elderly people in
de peered lovingly at them, and nod
ed and talked. with a pleased laugh
each other, and laid bright plans. Il
And Aurore gazcd silently out at OF
ne calm ethereal light. resting so fo
sacefully over all things. while Hor- &C
IN. with desperate emotion. poured re