Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1902-01-16

over. even after all these years, whose
obituaries you have written"
My dear, my darling" he said. his
strong hand clasping hers so quickly
that invOluntarily her arm struggled
like birds wing to wrest itself away,
''it is well for me TO tell the only wom-
an l ever loved that love her still and
do not mean to let her go again.
Arthur
Margaret. 1 love you more than
ever"
1T is impossibler'
Il love your
"You cannot. cannot be in earnest"
she stammered. why. you have new
er told me"
'Never-until now" he laughed. Il
learned something when l lost you the
first time-my darlingr
This" said Mrs. Hugonin, partially
recovering herself 'is folly, Arthur,
and it is most unfair
Unfair" he said, ito want you for
my wife? No; you mean unfair to take
you off your guard. | will not quibble
with your words" he said. smiling.
May the hour and the scene suggest
TO you all that they will; may they
bring you back tot was twenty that
you were-when it all happened! Mar
garet. when you were twenty-six l
went away from the city of all my
hopes, but before | turned my back on
| il | did as many refugee had done
before mel scaled up my treasures
and hid them, and my store Is where /
left it. That is why | want you to
marry me. All that | had looked for
ward to telling you-when you were
| twenty-all that | had to say to you,
| the secret hoard that l had been piling
| up for our married life, is intact, and
now | want you to share it with me-"
| He paused a moment and then went
on: MY dear. | have simply had to
wait; that is all. But please heaven,
we will begin again"
Poor Mrs. Hugonin's breath came
and went. an unwilling messenger of
| passion-or, 1t might be, of sentiment
Perhaps l was in the wrong" she
said. But why did not you think more
of yourself?"
81 am thinking of myself now," said
| Kinnaird.
| Suddenly. as Mrs. Hugonin hung dis
Hacted and in doubt, the cliff before
them rang faint and sibylline with an
echo. 1t was the town clock of the vii
lage striking over beyond the trees.
| They could not hear it, but, sent from
ledge to ledge in the still night air, it
struck silvery and remote on the gran
ite facade. AS it sounded they both
started, he at its elfin suggestions, she
at its material reminder.
"Good graciousr' she exclaimed. at
lis IL o'clock
at is said Kinnaird
"And we must positively go back to
the hotel at once. We are a scandal,
Arthur-and you know it, for l saw
you start too" She began to smile.
"Do you see nothing in the augury %
she asked.
''The auguryf'
1--WE are two old FOOLS" she said.
"Think of my boy In his bed, Arthur.
"Think Of my thirty years-be quiet, il
you please. l choose to be thirty for
formaliIy's sake. 1t is only the night
and the moonlight. When II o'clock
strikes, we recollect that we ought to
be respectfully at home. 1t is only an
echo. All. my dear old friend, we have
had our past, and it is over. Yours
has been unhappy, and l am, oh, so
very sorryl But you are contented
now and, what is more, you are kind
and strong-it is better as it is. Take
me back to the hotel-and we shall be-
-rare-of- echoes in frtllron
Il thought you said you had grown
DID," said Kinnaird. '1t is only youth
that refuses the echo"
And he took her in his arms and kiss
ld her.