Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1900-02-24

doesn't" says Monica, provOkingly. And
really, TO do M Ryde justice too, l never
heard him mention q roaring lion. Perhaps
YOU are thinking of Artemus Wards lion
that goes about seeking whom he may de-
your somebody" She smiles in a madden
ing fashion.
~ am thinking of Ryde," says Desmond.
81 an thinking, too, how mad / was when
/ thought you liked me better than him. /
did think it, you know; but now the delu-
sion is dispelled. 1t is plain to me you are
infatuated about this fellow, who is per-
Lfumed like a milliner' and hasn't two ideas
In his head"
~ can't think where you find all your
auotat,Ons,'' says Monica, who Is now seri-
Ously annoyed; but | must ask you not TO
worry me any further about Mr.. Ryde."
"You are madly in love with him." says
Desmond, choking with rage. Upon which
Miss Beresford loses the last remnant OF her
patience, and very properly turns her back
on him.
The rain has ceased, but during its reign
has ~extinguished the dying sun, which has
disappeared far below the horizon. A great
hush and silence has followed the p~etulant
burst of storm, and a peace lnspeakable lies
on adj the land. There is "A little glimpse OF
the ocean far away beyond the giant fires,
and one can see that its waves are calm, and
the tishing-boats upon its bosom scarcely
rock.
The grass is bending still with the weight
Of the past rain, and a plaintive dripping
from the trees can be heard, Ia refreshing
sound tina lessons the sense Of heat. The
small birds stir cOZily In their nests, and now
and then o drowsy note breaks from one or
another; a faint mist, white and intangible,
rises from the hills, spreading from field 20
sky, until
'Thc earth. with heaven mingled, IN the shad.
l. owy twilight lay,
And the white sails seemed ike spCctcrs in n
cioud-land far away.'
"Ahl you don't like me 10 say that" says
Desmond, unappeased by the beauty of the
growing night; but
"Do not say another word" says Monica,
lmperiously. The moon is rising slowly
sl0wly,-and so, by the bye, is her temper.
IL forbid YOU. Here" throwing TO him his
coat; II think | have before remarked that
the rain Is quite over. am sorry l ever
touched anything belonging TO YOU
Desmond having received the coat, and
put himself into it once more, silence en-
sues. 1t does, perhaps, strike him as q
hopeful sign that she shows 40 haste TO re-
turn home and 50 rid herself of a presence
She has inadvertently declared to be hateful
TO her, because presently he says, simply, if
q little warmly
There is no use in orr quarrcling like
this. / won't give you up without a further
struggle, to any man. SO we may as well
have 10 out now. DO you care for that-fGr
Ryder
IF YOU had asked me that before,-scHsi-
bly,-yOu might have avoided making an
-LF -. ..1 90 Aa..- a... ..-lA
things. | don't in the least mind telling
you" says Miss Bcresford, coldly, that L
can't bear him."
"Oh, Monica is this trucg' asks he, in an
agony Of hope.
Quite true. But you don't deserve /
should say it,
"My darling! My one thing bright in AL
this hateful world! OH! throwing up his
head with an impatient gesture, Il have
been so wretched all this evening! | have
suffered the tortures Of the"
"Now, you mustn't say naughty words"
interrupts she, with an adorable smile. You
are glad | have forgiven your"
This is how she puts it, and he Is only too
content to be friends with her on any terms,
to show further fight.
"MOrC than glad"
And you will promise me never to be
Jealous againY'
This is a bitter pill, considering his former
declaration that jealousy and he had moth
ing TO do with each other; but he swallows
it brayely.
Never. And you-you will never again
give me cause, darling, will YOU"
II gave you no cause now" says the dar-
ling, shaking her pretty head obstinately.
And he doesn't dare contradict her. You
behaved real!U badly" she goes on, re-
proacAfully, ''and at such a time, too, just
when | was dying to tell you such good
news"
"Good?-your aunts- -" eagerly, have re-
l,lted-they-'
"Oh, no! oh, dear, nor says Miss Beres-
ford. They are harder than ever against
you. Adamant Is a sponge in comparison
with them. 1t isn't that; but Madame
O'ConnOr has asked me to go and stay with
her next Monday for a weck!-there"
"And me too?'
"N-o. Aunt Priscilla made II a condition
with regard to my going that you shouldn't
be there
THE And Madame o'Connor gave in
to such abominable tyranny
"WithOut a murmur."
81 thought she had a soul above that sort
OF thing" says Mr.. Desmond, with disgust.
'But they are all alike"
"Who?-w0men?'
eyes,
"You mean to tell me that I an like Aunt
Priscilla and Madame O'COnnor?'
'Old women, | mean" with anxious haste,
SEEING = cloud descending uIOn the brow Of
his beloved.
'OhI'
"And, after all, it Is good news" says
Brian, Frightening, because though | can't
stop in the house for a week, still there is
nothing to prevent my riding over there
every one of the seven days"
That's just what | thought" says Moni-
ca, ingenuously, with a sweet little blush.
"Ah! you wished for me, theng'
She refuses to answer this in any more di-
rect manner that her eyes afford, but says,
quickly, doubtfully,-
1T won't be deceiving Aunt Priscilla,
your coming there to visit, will it2 She must
know she cannot compel Madame O'COnnOr
to forbid you the house. And she knows
perfectly you are an intimate friend Of
hers
''Of course she does. She is a regular old
tyrant, IA Bluebeard in petticoats; but"
mo, no.; you must not abuse her" says
Monica; so he becomes silent.
She is standing very close to the trunk of
the old beech, half leaning against it upon
one arm which is slightly raised. She has
no gloves, but long white mittens that reach
above her elbow to where the sleeves of her
gown join them. Through the little holes
in the pattern Of these Sndly mittens her
white arms can be seen cleaning like snow
beneath the faint rays Of the early moon.
with one hand she is ridying some imagi-
nary air upon the trees bark.
As she so plays, tiny sparkles from her
rings attract his notice.
Those five little rings" says Desmond,
idly, always remind me of the five little
pigs that vert to market I don't know
why"
They didn't all go to market" demurely.