The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1903-12-10

Hugh Lamontei But how changed! ne
disappeared in the entrance beneath. she
sprang to unclose the door Of the apart
ment. A familiar step was just without;
it paused, and as the door opened, Rose
behel1 him before her.
"lIy dear fatherv' she said, ioyfully,
as he clasped her silently in his arms.
''You are glad to see me, then, mig
nonneT
"Glad?-ah, yes! have waited till
was ready to cry, papa"
Holding him still by the hand, she led
him in. Rose saw, now, though she would
not seem to remark it, the reason Of his
altered appearance, which had at first
prevented her from recognizing him. For
now, instead of the coarse and humble
garb ordinary with him, he was clothed
in the attire of a gentleman, in garments
Of a fine yet plain material, suiting well
with the undeniably noble and striking
form and natural grace Of the wearer.
The profusion of hair, formerly roughen-
ing and Disgusting his features, had been
partially removed, and the effect was
no less agreeable than astonishing. NO
wonder that Rose had scarcely known
him. You would not have guessed that
this man had ever hewn wood In the
forest, and dwelt, a peasant laborer, IN
a peasants hut But Hugh, for reasons
of his own, had chosen to cast of the
character in which he had so long appear
ed in this visit to Rose. Perhaps he
had endeavored, by this change, to pre-
vent Rose from being obliged to contrast,
with feelings of pain, his apparent pow
erty with the luxury of her position AS
it was, she wondered silently at the
change, yet, much as she desired to in
quire into his circumstances, feeling
of restraint, or delicacy, prevented her
at first.
They sat there conversing for upward
of an hour, during which she informed
him of all that had lately taken place
with regard to herself; of the discovery
made touching the romance in which
Louis and herself had been concerned,
and Of her approaching marriage with
him. Hugh listened to her story, smiled
at the romantic part of it, and was grave
| again.
II knew, Rose" he said, "who Robin
was"
''You knew, papaT"
| Eyes. But | saw that the count was
| honorable and sincere in his affection for
you, and permitted him to think his dis
guise safe. | would not have allowed
you to marry peasant, Rose"
Father, why not?"
"You will know one day, my child"
She looked perplexed a moment; then
glancing up into her fathers face, said:
"You heard of my Imprisonment in the
cavern, fatherT'
"Yes. Jacques told me. All, my child,
how happy am that you escaped! What
do we not owe to the count and to our
faithful JacquesP"
what indeed?" echoed Rose, warmly.
"But," she resumed, "Gasparde was
killed, papa"
II knew of that, also. The wretch will
meet a just account"
"He said he was not my cousin. How
was that, papa?"
HE told the truth. He was no rela-
ton Of yours; only had known him
since he was an innocent or, at least, an
innocent-seeming boy, when you first saw
him in your infancy, and then, you know,
| bade you call each other cousin after
wards"
But how wicked he was--a brigand
chief Ah, If we had known it, papa
how much more dreadful he would have
seemed We should never have dared to
have him come into the cottage"
With abruptness Hugh turned the con-
yersation. 1t touched himself and his
affairs. Rose found that he was living
in quiet retirement in the old city Of Ly-
ons.
"And | am not poor Rose; do not let
that trouble you, for | know you will
think of it" he said. II am not poor.
have enough to support ME to the end of
my days In comfort and plenty.
"Oh, father, am SO glad" she return
ed, her eyes filling with tears. II am so
glad! You do not know how bitter has
, been the thought, sometimes, that was
about to marry wealthy and titled man,
and leave you, perhaps, in poverty and
I want. have a thousand times felt that
was committing a sin-that | would
rather come back to you and share your
lot, humble as it was, than wed in splen-
dor and magnifcence and leave you"
, said her father, gravely. Take the hap
: piness which is offered you, and in which
|, also, shall be happy. | should be i'll al
? ease, my child, if you were to descend tC
, your former rude station again. Think
Of me always, Rose as in good circum
: stances; do not compare your station and
mine, and make yourself unhappy be
cause | do not share the advantages you
enjoy. | dc not want them, Rose.
should spurn themp' He spoke excitedly
? and then, pressing his hand to his brow
sighed deeply. Then he continued: II be
A neve you win be happy with the count
4 your future husband. How soon are yot
to be marriedT
Il "In two or three months. papa" an
swered Rose, slightly blushing.
. let me congratulate you now upoI
the approaching event, if that be tn,
e case; for l shall not see you again proba
v bly, for some time"
a "Ah, why is that, papaT' said tn
II young girl, anxiously.
Il have business to which | must at
n tend, and which win occupy me closel,
"a for some months"
"And you will not even come to m,
A wedding?" Her tone was low and sol
i rowful.
e. 81 may not, dear child. But l shal
' pray for your happiness. oAe day,
4. shall come TO look upon the old place
A, Till then, my home is in Lyo7s. An
le now. must bid you adieu" And b
rose.
IL "Dear father, why viii you go so soon
h The mIrquis viii be disappointed at nc
r seeing you; and Louis"
ID Il cannot stay, Rose; do not ask m'
re Believe me, 1t is best so. And now tha
r l have seen you this once, it must col
l. tent US both for a long time"
Of 81 may come and see you, father"
ID II think It better not; for | am yer
It. often away, and you might not find M
I'd Now. my little Rose, adieu!'