The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1903-12-04

fact OF my being your promised wife
gives you no right to command me;
since you seem to think it does, the
sooner we sever the relations existing
between us the better; for, Heaven for.
bid, that l should ever be the wife OF
any man who dare dictate to me before
he has legal right to do so! Here is
your ring, Mr.. Raymond; oblige me
by taking it'-drawing from her finger
as she spoke superb diamond.
Douglas Raymond's face as he lis.
tened to Maud's words had been q
study. First anger, then pity, sor.
row, and last, love, unutterable love
shone in his large, dark eyes, and
lighted up every lineament of his noble,
handsome face. As she ceased speak.
ing he took one step toward her but
she motioned him back with naughty
gesture.
"Maud! Maud, my darling!' be cried
"you surely do not mean what you say
| did not mean to be harsh with you.
Tell me, darling, you do not intend to
break my heart by driving me from
YOU"
II do mean that our engagement is
at an end" she e1nphatically replied.
Until you can unsay what you have
said to me, never speak to me again;
here is your ring, and now go!'
Douglas Raymond took the ring.
looked in her face for one moment,
with all his heart in his eyes, then
turning, walked rapidly away.
Maud watched him out of sight,
then slowly went back to the hotel and
up to her room. He would come back
to her, she felt sure he would. So after
making an exquisite toilet, which set
off to advantage her brilliant blonde
beauty, she descended to the ballroom.
Colonel Darlingford met her at the
foot of the stairs and escorted her to a
seat with his usual gallantry.
All the evening Maud's eyes kept
wandering to the door, as if expecting
some one, but she looked in vain.
The next morning her uncle's greet
ing was:
"Where did Raymond 60, and when
will he be back?'
Maud turned deathly pale, and
clung to the table for support; recov-
ering herself, she said, very quietly:
II did not know he had gone away,
uncle?"
"The deuce you did not? Well, he
left, bag and baggage, on the up-train
last night, and-why, what does this
mean? Here's his name in the late list
of passengers on the Cynthia, which
sailed for Liverpool this morning,
Maud, do you hear?'
No; Maud did not hear, for she had
tainted.
X X x
A glorious August sunset tinged
earth and sky. The great ocean lay
calm and unruffled, receiving placidly
the evening kisses of the god of day.
The beach, white and glistening, was
flecked here and there by the suns
last rays, which beamed softly on the
bowed head of lady standing on the
veranda of the great white hotel.
She was a very beautiful woman,
some years past her first youth, tall
and beautifully formed, her every mo-
tion grace; magnificent eyes, dark as
midnight, and masses of hair which
the CLINT of the sun turned to burn
ished gold.
She leaned listlessly against pillar,
her eyes wandering wearily over the
scene before her. There were signs of
sorrow in her face, beautiful though it
was, and in her dark, dreamy eyes was
a far-away look, as if ever watching
for some one.
There was sound OF girlish laugh
ter, the rustic of dress, and then
voice from the window said:
ooh, Miss Darlington, do, please,
come in and sing for us. l have some
new music would like you to try for
me-do come!'
"With pleasure, Ella" said the lady,
smiling, as she turned to go in.
She seated herself at the piano and
sang song after song. Her voice was
grand one-a deep, rich contralto,
just suited to herself.
Several gentlemen, attracted by the
music, sauntered toward the windows
of the parlor. One, tall, handsome,
dark faced man, drew near and leaned
near the railing Of the veranda. He
could not see the singer from where be
stood, but as the rich, full tones rose
and fell on the air, his face became
study.