Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1900-06-28

DeuI ueaU ana sees the tears dropping
through her fingers noticing her Shout
ders heaving with these sobs that will
not be controlled.
She is cut up at leaving Bouverie,
thinks Sebastian, who just touches her
bent, dusky head with his fingers.
Come out into the garden, Barbara;
the servants are coming into the
room to take away the things. Come"
His voice is kind,a land Barbara, yearn-
ing for sympathy, goes.
so you are going to be transport
ed" Sebastian says, as she walks
meekly at his side down garden
path bordered by thousands of mauve
and white crocuses.
Sebastian, you know 1t is not non
sense!" Barbara says, tragically.
Father says nothing, and your moth
er says play at being engaged II you
like; but it is true-quite true. And
father need not take me to Tasmania,
for it will pot make any difference!"
speaking vehemently in her excite
ment.
Sebastian stoops his dark head.
You don't expect me to side with
Bouverie? Barbara, you do not think
could do that?"
you would if you were generous
enough" breathes Barbara, her wet
eyes seeing the crocus border blurred
like a rainbow mist. Sebastian, you
are my cousin, and I haven't friend
in the world"
The mans dark face Is inscrutable.
Il wouldn't give my faith to George
Bouverie if l were you," he says slow
ly. Barbara, cannot be hypocrite.
love you, but you shall not trade on
my affection to help you to marry
another man; for if I can help it you
shall be no mans wife but mine"
The tears that had been yelling up
in Barbara's eyes are checked sudden
ly; look of resolution comes over her
troubled face.
Il will tell father everything, and he
will understand" she says, almost
hopefully. after all, think am
glad l am going; and it cannot make
any real difference-we can wait
Eyes, dare say you will have plen-
ty Of waiting" Sebastian says, with
cunning familiarity and an evil smile.
Barbara gives him one look from
her tear-filled eyes-a look of anger
and reproach-and without word
leaves him and walks back to the
house.
Mrs. Saville does not think it neces-
sary to inform Barbara that in the
autumn Sebastian is to follow her
across the sea. She pins great faith
on distance and change of scene. In
all human probability the silly love
affair between Barbara and George
Bouverie will die natural death, and
very few people marry their first
lovers.
Sebastian will have a very good
chance when he goes out to Tasmania,
journey. 1t is really a charming ar
rangement. Mrs. Saville feels quite
pleased, and it is a great blessing that
Barbara is taking it all so quietly.
By and by she comes into the morn
ing room, where Mrs. Saville is writ
ing lists and letters at a great rate.
Barbara has on a pale gray coat and
skirt, with white silk waist and q
great bunch of violets in her button
hole. She looks pale, but the grave
mouth is firm.
II am going to Portraven, Aunt Ju-
liza. I am going to meet George to
say Good-by to him." she says, with an
air of decision, as if opposition were
to be expected.
But Mrs. Saville makes no objection.
A parting scene between the lovers is
inevitable, and the sooner it is over
the better. Still Barbara fingers.
Aunt Julia, know quite well why
father has sent for me. 1t is to try
and make me forget George; but it
will be no use. We are promised to
each other. l cannot help it can
never care for anyone else"
Her aunt looks at her, sees the ris-
ing agitation, and smiles.
my dear Barbara, l have never at
tempted to dissuade you from engag-
ing yourself to Mr.. Bouverie if you
choose, neither can l prevent you
meeting him in Portraven and saying
good-by. You are old enough to know
your own mind. do not for one
moment suppose your father will re-
gard an engagement of that sort as
serious-in fact, l know he will not.
You see, dear, am quite candid, and
foresee that some day you will be
very glad to have escaped matrimony
with very worthless young man."
''He is not worthless"
Barbara looks splendid in her in
dignation as she nobly champions her
lover. Then she leaves the room and
walks away down the gloomy, damp
avenue, and out on the road beneath
the budding trees. Her step is light,
and her dark-lashed eyes are full of
hope.
Not very far from the Court en-
trance gates young man, with a cou-
pie of dogs at his heels, is sauntering
along. George Bouverie looks, if pos
Sible, more anxious and unhappy than
ever. His face hardly brightens as
Barbara joins him, looking fresh as
the spring morning herself.
For second she looks up at him,
Ind her heart swells as she realizes
hat it will be a long, long time per-
haps before they meet again. "She
will yearn for the touch of vanished
hand" she will long with a sick long
ing for the sound of his merry voice,
ihe sight of his face.
George" she whispers-and her
Soice is trembling-"my father has
cent for me, and | am going to Tas-
hania." I.
'Going to Tasmania"
In the face of his other hideous trou-