Middletown transcript., 1903-11-14
GLADYS THE HEIRESS
TcoNTINUED FROM LAST WEEK
BY VILOT WHYTE

taken her hand from his, and he was
afraid to turn and look at her. He waf
horribly afraid, now that the truth hao
come out, to speak at all, lest Gladys
should make q scene. If che began tt
cry, what should he do? II she re-
preached him-and Heaven knew he de-
served it!-what would he say? Gerard
Fame wished devoutly that he had moi
broached the subject, but had quietly
gone away from Sandune, and left her e
understand tactily that their loye-maklnf
was ended. What an idiot he was, he
told himself, not to have done so! Ano
vet he could not bear the idea OF being
dishonest to Gladys-who was so good
and who made him better in spite o
himself.
However, the minutes wore on, ano
Gladys showed no signs Of making
scene. She sat quite still-so still that
Gerard began to move uneasily upon bis
slippery seat and to wish she would say
or do anything which would break the
horrible silence that had fallen upon
them. He looked round cautiously; but
GLADYS had turned her head away, SC
that he could not see her face, and the
large white umbrella effectually prevented
his getting any nearer to her.
I say, Gladys, he said humbly.
Gerard, she replied, without turning
her head.
Are you very angry with me? he asked.
A little disappointed, she said in 9
trembling voice, in which, despite the
tremor, there was ring Of scorn.
Wait till you hear all about it, he cried
eagerly; then perhaps you won't blame
me SO much, except that ought to have
gone away at once. But, oh, my darling,
l couldn't do it! I tried SO very hard;
but couldn't do it.
But you can do it now?-turning to
him at last, with tender smile upon her
face and in her violet eyes. She even
laid her hand in his again; and thus he
was emboldened to begin the story he
had to tell her.
Listen to my story first, he said. My
father had sister who married a man
called Hawthorndean.
Yes.
And after my father and mother died
which was when was quite little chap,
my uncle Hawthorndean, as | had been
taught to call him, took pity upon me
and brought me up. That is to say, he
sent me to Eton, and then into the army;
and he allowed me five hundred year
as long as he lived.
Well?
I was not the only child upon whom
he took pity. There was one nearer in
blood than / was, the only child OF his
brother, Bruce Huwthorndean; and this
child was called Gladys.
I see, the girl said quietly.
Gladys, like myself, was an orphan;
and my uncle brought her up in the same
liberal manner as myself. That is to say,
she was educated at an expensive school
in Paris, and, understood, introduced
into society as his heiress, and, l suppose,
courted accordingly. Well, a few months
ago my uncle Hawthorndean died, leav-
ing the most idiotic and extraordinary
will any man ever left; for it held forth
that, if his niece Gladys and made up
our minds to marry each other by Febru-
ary next, we were to have the whole OF
his property. II We declined, either Of
us, to do that, it all goes to charities.
Well? said Gladys calmly.
Well, don't you sea little fretfully-
that / am bound to marry Gladys Haw-
thorndean?
Suppose she won't have you?
Gerard laughed.
I don't suppose she is fool; and be-
sides, you know, Scotch people always
have keen eye to the main chance.
And you have never seen her? Gladys
asked.
Never.
How was that?
I had been in India nine years when
my uncle died; and he did not take up
Gladys until after / left England.
Then you don't know what she is like?
Not the least idea. A raw-boned
Scotchwoman, should think.
Pooh! Gladys laughed, holding out
slender wrist for his inspection. l am o,
Seotchwoman. Then how old is she?
Somewhere about twenty.
Oh, quite young!
Yes; good deal younger than | am.
And how much money has she?
My dearest child, We neither Of US have
a screw, he cried; and that is why we
must marry! The estate is worth about
seven thousand year.
Then you are going to marry her?
Gladys said, her eyes darkening-until
that moment she had not really believed
it.
| have told you SO, my child, hs re-
turned.
Then another silence fell upon them,
which lasted SO long that he wondered if
she was ever going to speak to him again.
How quietly and composedly she had
taken It'll He felt just trife piqued that
she had not seemed to feel it more. Was
it that she did not really believe it?
Gerard, she said suddenly, breaking in
upon his thoughts and speaking in soft
persuasive accents, would you not do
something for me?
Anything in my power, as you know,
he answered.
Give up this Gladys Hawthorndean,
she said, in coaxing tones. You don't
care for her; you may not like her at all;
you may find her ugly, disagreeable, bad
tempered, not willing to have you. By
the-bye, how is it you did not go to see
her as soon as you reached England?
She is abroad somewhere, and l was
not very anxious to fasten my letters |
sooner than necessary, he answered bit