The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1903-06-19

sire for a renewal of their acquaint-
ance, Hyde was sure his heart would
have instantly responded. AS it was,
they had met and parted in moment,
and every circumstance had been
against him. For it was the most
natural thing in life, that he should,
after his cousins interview with
Washington, stoop to her words with
delight and interest; and it was
equally natural for Cornelia to put the
construction on his attentions which
every one else did.
Hyde wandered through the parlors
| speaking to one and another but ever
on the watch for Cornelia. He saw
her no more that night. She had
withdrawn as soon as possible after
meeting Hyde, and he was so miser-
ably disappointed, so angry at the I'M
propitious circumstances which had
dominated their casual meeting,
that he hardly spoke to any one as
they returned home.
The next day Annie asked: do
you remember the Rev. Mr.. Damer,
rector of Downhill Market?"
VERY well. He preached very tire
some sermons"
His daughter Mary was at the
ball last night"
What is Mary Damer doing in
American"
"She is on a visit to her cousin,
| who is married to the Governor Of
| Massachusetts. He is here on some
| state matter, and as Miss Damer also
wished to see Washington, he brought
her with him."
Il was mere lad when saw her
last. Is she passable?"
"She is extremely handsome. My
aunt heard that she is to marry a
Boston gentleman of good promise
and estate. l dare say it is true"
1t was so true that even while they
writing these words to her betrothed:
Yesterday l met the Hydes. The
young lord got out of my way. Did he
imagine l had designs on him?
look for better man. | may see a
great deal Of them in the coming
summer, and then may find out At
present | will dismiss the Hydes.
have met pleasanter company"
Annie dismissed the subject with
the same sort of Impotence. 1t seem.
ed to no one a matter of any import
ance.
Hyde was shaken, confused, lifted
of his feet, as it were; but after an
other day had passed, he had come to
one steady resolution-he would
speak to Cornelia when he next met
her, no matter where it was, or who
was with her.
For nearly a week he kept con-
scious, constant watch. Its insisting
sorrowful longing was like a cry from
Loves watch towers, but it did not
reach the beloved one, or else she
ing he resolved to walk through the
great dry goods stores, where the beau
ties of the gay Quakers" bought their
choicest fabrics in foreign chintzes,
lawns and Indian muslins. He was
getting impatient of the hustle and
pushing, when he saw Anthony ely
mer approaching him. The young
man was driving new and very spir-
tied team, and as he with some diff
Guilty held them, he called to Hyde to
come and drive with him. After an
hours driving they came to a fomous
hostelry, and Clymer said, Let us give
ourselves lunch, and the horses bait
and a rest, then we will make them
show their mettle home again."
The young men had luxurious
meal and more good wine than they
ought to have taken.
The champ and gallop of the horses
and Clymer's vociferous enjoyment of
his own wit, blended, and for a mo-
ment or two Hyde was under a physi-
cal exhilaration as intoxicating as the
foam of the champagne they had been
drinking. In the height of this mere
tricious gaiety, carriage, driving at a
rather rapid rate turned into the
road; and Cornelia suddenly raised
her eyes to the festive young men,
and then dropped them with an
abrupt, even angry expression.
Hyde became silent and speeches.,
and Clymer was quickly infected by
the very force and potency of his COM
panion's agitation and distressed sur
prise. Both were glad to escape the
others company, and Hyde fled to the
privacy of his own room, that he
might hide there the almost unbear-
able chagrin and misery this unfor-
tunate meeting had caused him.
Where shall l run to avoid my
self" he cried, as he paced the floor
in an agony of shame "She will new
er respect me again. She ought not.
am the most wretched of lovers"
For some days sorrow and confus-
ion and distraction bound his senses;
he refused all company, would neither
eat, nor sleep, nor talk, and he looked |
as white and wan as a spectre. A |
stupid weight, a dismal sullen still |
ness succeeded the storm of shame |
and grief; and he felt himself to be |
the most forlorn of human beings. At |
length, however the first misery of |