Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1902-02-25

II have not seen you once for the last
fortnight, Irene" he said; whenever L
have called, you have been out. | began
to wonder when | should see you again.
VIII you introduce me TO your friend,
Irene"
She blushed crimson. Sir. Hubert came
to the rescue; he could moth endure to see
her in distress.
II shall be much pleased, DR.. Kean,
ne said, ito make your acquaintance.
have heard wonders of your skill. am
visiting Lord Arundale, and you stand
very high in his lordship's good graces."
1t did so happen that there was no
person on earth for whom the good doc
tor had so much respect as for Lord
Arundale; the very lame was a passport
to his esteem; his face relaxed, the last
frown disappeared, as he said:
You are a visitor of Lord Arundale's?
| am most happy to make your acquaint-
ance"
1t did not occur 70 the good doctor how
cleverly the handsome young aristoerat
had evaded the introduction, and how
completely he had forgotten to ask his
name.
Sir Hubert smiled his frankest smile.
1T is through Lord Arundale that l
first had the pleasure of seeing Miss
Darcy" he continued, "and a very great
pleasure it was. / met Miss Darcy just
now in the woods here, and begged to
have the pleasure of seeing her home"
added Sir Hubert.
DR.. Kean was the last man in the
world to tell tales or to make mischief;
but in some way he considered himself
responsible for this motherless child. He
knew how unprotected she was; the
Dreamy artist father and the old grand
mere were no protectors for her; ne was
haunted by the memory of those beau
tiful faces, the girls so fair and tender,
the mans SO dark, so full of fire. Ger
tainly the young stranger had spoken but
in the most frank and candid manner;
yet it would be just as well to know if
the artist knew of the friends his daugh-
ter made.
When the doctor met Santon Darcy he
said to him: Did Irene tell you that |
met her in the woods lately?"
NO, l do not remember it," was the
reply.
Il met her with one of the very hand
soonest young men l ever saw, walking in
the woods. l say nothing, | insinuate
nothing; but if it were my daughter
should like TO know something of it" said
DR.. kean.
Whatever I ask Irene will tell me,
said the artist, proudly.
And the doctor, with an expressive
shrug of his shoulders, walked away.
Although he was habitually dreamer,
Santon Darcy reused himself to think
ever the old doctors words. He met
Irene as she came in from long, pleas
ant hour spent watching the sunset.
Irene he asked, in that gentle voice
of his, which had in it always a sugges-
ton of tears, Irene, where have you
been?"
watching the sunset in the woods,
she replied.
Have you been alone?' he asked.
NO, l was not alone, papa,' she re-
piled.
''With whom were you, Irene?" he ask
ed, graveiy, and she answered, frankly:
Il told you that | had met Lord Arun-
dale, papa, and this gentleman is visit
ing him; a friend Of his. have seen him
often since, and he brings me part of the
way home"
in his visions, this seemed natural and
frank enough No warning of terrible
tragedy came to him, no revelation that
the beginning Of the isis of Irene's life
was at hand. He thought it was merely
a question Of the politeness of stranger,
who believed it an act of kindness TO see
his daughter home.
1T is very kind of him, but you must
YOU are not child now; indeed, it fills
me with wonder TO find you are almost a
woman, my dear You must not speak to
strangers or walk with them, no matter
who they may be, and | advise you
strongly not to go where you are likely 10
meet this person again"
Il will do as you wish, papa" she said,
gently.
As she uttered the words all the bright
ness of life died away from her. For
the first time. she realized the intensity
of her love. The artist went back to his
pictures, Irene went to the pretty little
drawing room where she could think at
leisure over what had happened.
II will not be unhappy" she thought.
II will not be unhappy"
She decided in her own mind that she
would see Sir Hubert as usual on the
day following. and tell him what her
father had said.
1t was a fatal sunrise for her. though
the birds woke her with their singing and
the flowers were all rejoicing in the morn
ing air. She stood before him. tall. slen-
der and stately as 4 lily. so loving that
any man might have laid down his life
for her.
You look fresh and fair as the morn
Ing. sweet; and yet there is a shadow
over you," he said.
All shadows" she said. vanish in the
sun. If had a trouble, it has gone, now
shat I see you"
Have you a trouble?" he asked. Eth
or let me share it, darling, or give it TO
me-"
My trouble is about you" she said.
About me. Irene? All, then l shall
soon end il. There would be no way in
which | would allow myself TO trouble
you. Tell me what il is"
He drew the slender figure nearer to
himself with a loving clasp. All. what
haven of rest was this broad breast and
loving heart Of her lover-what haven
of rest the clasp ~arCysese arms, 1t could
not be that she 7,sas % lose them?
Tell me what has troubled You,
Irene" he said. aud she told him.
His face darkeend.
Il knew there would be mischief when
| saw that tiresome old Doctor he said.
She looked up at him in sudden alarm.
'Shall we be parted sac asked. while
the beautiful face grew white IS death.
With passionate words he answered.