The Western news., 1902-02-05

stupid. piodding boy had seen the
shadow on his sweetheart's face, and,
although he could not know its SUBJ
stance, he was unwilling to stand be-
tween his beloved and the sun of her
life. But Angelo had refused to see
hiin; there would be time enough for
all that afterward, she told herself; and
that, too, was the message she sent to
him.
She leaned forward to caress a rose
that blossomed just beyond the green
shutter, and then she saw him-Sey-
mour-riding slowly down the trail. A
sudden rush of blood from her heart
to her head deprived 1t of all sense, of
all reason. He had come! He would
save her! That was the message that
flashed along the crimson stream. He
was on his way to the tryst under the
great cathedral trees. She must meet
him there. With feverish fingers she
dressed. rejoicing in the pretty details
of her travelling gown. Were they not
all for him? Poor jim! But he would
get over it. They always did. and
She stopped suddenly, and looked in the
glass at the scarlet lips, brilliant like
Japans quince-blossoms, at the blue
black hair SO like the summer night.
quick rush of tears iimmed all the
vision. Poor little mother! Would she
get over it? The girl tore scrap Of
paper from the box that had held the
wedding hat and wrote hurried note
to her mother. Then once more she
went to the window. The fog was again
shutting down and enveloping like
bridal veil the green trees under which
even now Seymour must be waiting for
her. Hurry! She must hurry to him.
And then she saw that Seymour him
self was standing by the gate, and that
her father was walking down the path.
his long, white hair cleaning like sill
ver Courteously enough. the English
man greeted him. adding: About that
boundary line, Mr.. Delamater. Couldn't
you come with me now to look over the
land? We may as well come to terms
about it to-day"
But not to-day" The old French
peasants voice had lost its cringing
tone in his broadening American life.
but he understood that the rich land
owner knew nsthing. cared nothing.
about the personal affairs Of the poor.
Still he explained: 1T Is Angele's-it is
my daughters wedding day. and"
''Oh, Miss Angy's wedding day Sure.
ly. | had forgotten" Seymours tone
held note that might almost have
been an apology, so kindly were his
feelings toward these. his poor neigh
bors. "Of course business has no place
to-day. Give my best wishes to the
bride. Thorne is a fine fellow, l think,
and am sure that Miss Delamater and
you are both to be congratulated"
He rode away into the fog. never
glancing at the shutters behind which
the white face was hidden, never
dreaming that in the brides heart or
mind there was place or thought for
him.
The Lares and Penates in the little
white room watched her through her
half-hour of agony, through her hour OF
conquest, and then saw her pass out
from among them forever. ready to
the honest burden of life.
The ceremony was over, the toasts
were all drunk. and the bride had
driven away. Such fine wedding.
Such pretty bride! These were the
comments of the simple country folk,
and only the mother eyes had seen the
pain, and, seeing 1t, had known that
her uneasy fears had been realities
that Angelo had married the one, low
ing the other with her whole heart.
Through rain of tears she watched
the dust-cloud move slowly down the
mountain until 1t mingled with the fog
cloud, and then she turned into her own
room, and on her knees. by her bed,
prayed for help for her child. To her,
there. Angeles note, written in fierce,
impossible joy. forgotten in intolerable
anguish. was brought:
'Oh, mother, little mother: am GO
ing away with the man love. The 9TH
er was all mistake. Nothing but mis-
cry could have come out of it, nothing
but joy will come from this. You will
know that l am right in time.
"ANGELE."
The mother eyes read and the moth
er's heart was comforted.-Argonau