Middletown transcript., 1903-11-14

not throw your love aside Tor the sake Ol
little money.
| But, my darling child, it is not little
it is seven thousand year, lie answered
! dare say money may seem very con
temPtible to you, because You have never
had it; but, remem&r, I have been
brought up to consider myself as my
uncle's heir. l have never known what
it was TO deny myself anything. II
oyerstepped my allowance my uncle paid
it; and, oh, I have heap Of bills!
could not live in poverty.
| And you will 90 away and leave me-
she asked incredulously.
| must.
II can't understand it! she cried pas
sionately. / thought you cared for me
you said you would love me always, and
yet-you 60 away and leave mel
A deep sigh broke from Gerard Fane's
lips.
think you are unreasonable, Gladys
lie said severely. You do not consider
how hard it will be for me, how often ]
shall long and hunger for you while you
- Oh, you are young, my darling,
and you will marry some Of these days,
and then you will forget all about the
man who loves you SO well!
So well that he left me for little
money, she interrupted.
That lie left you because he mad not
enough money to keep you, he corrected.
Oh, my little love, l know it is bitterly
hard for you, as Heaven knows it is for
me; but in times like these, one must
think at food and clothing. My child,
we cannot live in Sandune without some
money; and already mine is fast disap-
pearing.
Well, I must be going, the girl said,
rising and shaking the remainder Of the
sand from her dress. Good bye, Gerard.
Good bye! lie echoed. l shall see you
again?
think not. 1t is Of no use to prolong
this torture, and fear shall not keep
my temper or my composure much longer.
But you are not going without another
word to me?
will tell you one thing, she answered.
| think you will be sorry for this one Of
these days. Nay, am quite sure of it.
am sorry now, he said sadly. Oh,
child, child, don't be angry with me!
You don't know how great a sacrifice l
make in leaving you.
What do you mean? she asked haught-
lily.
mean that month ago | meant to
persuade you to 20 away with me-now !
love you too well for that.
An angry flush Redeemed the girls pale
cheeks, and her violet eyes darkened
almost to blackness; but she did not
speak.
Do not reproach me, he said, seeing
her lips unclose, and fearing she was
about to speak; my punishment is heavy
enough, Heaven knows!
/ never was a scold, she said, with
little sad smile. But, Gerard, has it
never occurred to you that may be as
rich even as Miss Hawthorndeah?
Gladys! he calculated blankly.
Yes, she continued, with sad scorn,
you would have lost nothing. Now |
wish you good bye, and JOY Of my name
sake, Gladys Hawthorndean!
Before Gerard could speak or put out
hand to detain her, she was gone. He
knew it was Of no use to follow her, for
already she was within sight OF her own
house. They had been sitting in the
shelter Of a huge rock just below the cot
tage; and Gladys was half way up the
cliff and within three minutes walk Of
home before he even recovered from his
surprise. So, seeing lie could not come
up with her, he seated himself upon the
slippery uncomfortable rock and told
himself in no measured terms that lie
was simply the very biggest fool the
world had ever seen.
Still, announcing that fact over and
over again to himself, the winds, the
waves, the rocks, and the cliffs, did not
at all help to set matters straight, or to
make the irreyocable past any less fool
ish. The more he reflected, the more he
thought and called himself fool. lie
might have seen, he ought to have known
they were rich people. Now he recol-
lected that he had noticed and wondered
at half dozen superb diamond rings on
the fingers of Mrs. McDonald's left hand.
He had been SO stupid as to think that,
because he had seen Gladys in but one
dress, she had not another. He had
imagined, because they were living in a
little unpretentious house in an out-of
the-way Scotch village that it was for the
sake of cheapness.
And, oh, lie cried passionately, what |
fool ami
Well it was done; and what was done
could not, he supposed, be undone. |
Gladys, with her soft voice, her clear |
violet eyes, her dainty high-bred ways, |
her fearless disregard Of village gossip, |
and her "infinite Variety" was gone.
She must henceforth be as one Of the |
things which have been; she had passed |
out of his life. And then there came be-
fore his eyes vision Of sandy-haired
freckled face, with high check bones and
gray-green eyes-an imaginary Gladys
Hawthorndean. If she should prove like
that, he could not and would not marry
her for all the money in the world. After
all, as his Gladys had pleaded SO earn
estly and yet SO tenderly, what was
money worth in comparison with the joy
or misery of whole life? And then he
fell to wondering if she was offended be-
yond all hope of reconciliation and for
giveness. Surely, when she found how
dearly lie loved her, she would relent!
Why, he suddenly remembered that she
had never uttered an angry word-that
she had only wished him JOY OF Miss
Hawthorndean. He would 20 up to the