Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-10-25
CHAPTER I.

full oak there to the left. and you began 1t
yesterday" she said
with a fine brush. his head to one side
with a critical air. 'but the light went very
soon when you left me-
rs that meant for pretty speech! she
asked. with a frank, playful smile, showing
row of pearly teeth.
NO. l never make any. The light that
failed me was daylight-not the llght OF
your eyes. / never insult you with nne
speeches
The speaker was man of perhaps thirty:
not tall. but above middle height, ofoao
shouldered and strongly built. with a plain.
resolute face and light gray penetrating
eyes The scene of their conversation was
a glade in Thoresby Woods, opening upon
the slope of a hill. from which the SPEAK
ers could see stretch OF moorianu anu
wide expanse of indistinct misty blue couh-
try beyond. The trees We're already snow
Ing the rich tints of autumn
II wonder how you manage to make your
pictures tell something? said the girl
They are merely trees and grass ana now
ers they are sad, or bright, or solemn
just as real bits of landscape make one
feel"
Come Miss Norton, that is fine speech
indeed. / did not know you were so soou
critic.
She laughed gayly. lone sweet speech
deserves another, she was beginning,
when a fine red-brown Irish setter ran out
from among the trees and jumped up at
the speaker She stopped to stroke the cog
the color rising in her cheeks. and an In
describable joyous look radating from her
lips The artist gaz5d at her as she ca
ressed the animal lovingly. an expression or
pain contracting his brow.
There. there, Down, Bran" she cried.
trying to repress the dog 8 too ardent dem
onstratiouS of affection
DE Burgh's dog, isn't it?" asked the
o. c4.''et' ! 7"pp'7s MS ''''7'e' 10 ''
1T Is impossible to say. Isn't he a lovely
creature?''
Who? De Burgh?"
''You know 1 mean the dog" she returned.
laughinsly. DO you ever paint animals.
Mr. Ashton?'
yes two-Iegged ones sometimes"
What cynical speech! But have ling
cred too long talking to you--dinner will be
ready before l reach home, and Grannie
hates to be kept waiting"
And l wonder how soon you will reach
home?'
I'm about twenty minutes. I am not go
ing to run myself out of breath on such a
glowing morning"
She drew up her head with displeased
air put on her hat and turned away, walk
ing for a few PAGES along the leafy avenue,
TIL she reached narrow path leading into
the reCesses of the wood the left.
She had not proceeded far when from
among the trees 4 young man in shooting
garb. with a gun on his shoulder, sprang
forward 10 where she stood. A tall slight,
distinguished figure. well set up, with d SOL
dierly air. His hair and mustache were
udTk, MS eyes uSep plue ana at the moment
angry looking He was undenably hand
some, and looked an aristocrat from head
to heel.
cat last. Grace-at lastr' he exclaimed.
leaning his gun against the stem of an old
thorn tree and then catchiy g both her
hands in his own why. in heavens
name, did you stay on talking for such an
age with that grim chap Ashton? Did you
not feel / was waiting and watching be-
tween the trees until you started:"
Grace listened with tremuious smile on
her lips. her color coming and going and
finally leaving her cheeks pale.
NO. Capt. de Burgh-not, at least, till
Bran jumped up at me-
She strove to draw away her hands as
she spoke.
You might let RE hold vour hands for
minute or two, Grace. don't know
when shall touch them again" and he
stopped to kiss chem - have bad Iews-
had fer me. at least / recalled to
London-must star this cvening-so many
o. cur fellows arc On laave-th"y want my
valuable services.
"Cong tonight" she exclaimed, in sur
prissd tone
Even so. Shall You miss me- VIII YOU
ever admit that I am anything 10 you?
You coy and cold. Grace 1t Is
death tn leave you-I cannot live without
you What spell nave you east upon me?"
oh do not say such Wild things You
must learn to do without me. and you will
when you are away-when YOU think of
what is due TO vDur station, your family
an rot fit wife for you. and linen have
more TO UNe Tor tldn love ann .1VtCa NE
You don't know what 1 feel-what I suf-
fer You are never absent from my mind,
my heart. waking or sleeping. You know.
my darling. but for my cousin and god
mother. whom l must not offend. | should
make you my wife before the world"
''If I consented" she added.
And would you refuse? Could I love
you so intensely if I did not instinctively
feel there was some answering chord in
your heart?'
He had u sweet. soft voice. and an i'm
FASHIONED flow of words, which he well
knew struck deep into the heart of his
bearer.
Grace Norton was the granddaughter of
formsr huntsman in the employment of
Squire de Bursh of Thoresby Chase. Mid
landshire. His was one of those old Nor
man families, wherein. failing direct male
heir the estate passed to the daughters.
The late squire married twice. His first
born was daughter; and some twenty
years after her birth his second wife died
in giving him a and heir. This boy
grew up the idol of his father. and a IA
verite with all who served him.
Now. Jim Norton the huntsman saved
the life of this highly valued young man
by extrIcating him from under vicious
hors". which had fallen with his rider after
taking dangerous fence out hunting. In
thus saving his Young masters life, the
huntSfnan lost his own-as fierce kick
from the struggling animal broke his skull
Mrs. Norton was therefore pensloned off
and given a comfortable and picturesque
To draw the links even Closer one of the
widows sons enlisted in the same regiment
TO which young Harry de Burgh was ga
zetted and when. some years after. Charles
Norton, who had attained sergeant's
stripes. and his young wife was carried off
by typhus fever In the ill-drained, ill-yen-
tilated barracks where they were quartered
in Dublin. Captain de Burgh arranged for
the transit of a poor little delicate baby
girl to the care Of her bereaved grand
mother and even left sum of money with
his lawyers when he went to the Crimea
some years after. to provide for the little
creatures education. that she might be
enabled to earn her own bread. From this
campaign the heir of Thoresby never re-
turned, His sister succeeded him. and mar
rted a man OF birth and fortune. shorty
before her fathers death. Later she. too,
was widowed and childless. so that Grace
Norton s lover was heir to her broad lands
and as much of her considerable savings
as she chose to bequeath him.
MIS-. Norton was a clever sensible wo-
man, and had. gone through checkered
me with courage and constancy and these
latter days had been infinitely Frightened
by the society OF her young granddaughter
who was indeed charming compa MON.
The humming OF bees and insects the
heat. the soft silence OF the afternoon
luIed her into a prolonged nan