The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1903-10-30

moon shining at night to cast lights
| and shadows over everything, and
make the world glorious would be an
! ideal dream if Val was there.
Val and himself, wandering through
the old Italian towns, or going to the
| opera in Paris, or crossing the ocean,
or even strolling out to sit on the rocks
of the breakwater and watch the play
of the moonbeams on the water!
oval and himself! 1t would be
Heaven!" Harold thought.
Then an immense WEAKNESS seized
him at the recollection of the writer
of that letter who was waiting for
him in Paris, and whose elaborate
trousseau would soon be completed.
The plan sketched out, he remem-
bered, was a brilliant wedding in the
fashionable Protestant church in Paris,
then winter in New York, then-she
declared she would map out their lives;
he need not undertake the task.
Harold again smiled grimly, and
wondered how it had happened, by
what awful catastrophe had he ever
believed himself in love with Frances
Cameron!
Cold as an iceberg, and some thought
beautiful, obstinate, and Harold felt
very sure also vindictive and cruel.
How was it he had let himself fall into
the tolls?
1t occurred to him, and a flush
mounted to his face at the thought,
hof Oh, hoI ,1,; 1oI
What now? She was waiting for
him, the wedding was to take place
shortly, and-her trousseau was nearly
ready.
Harold threw aside his cigarette and
sat modify looking out at the sea,
and determination grew up within
him which made his pulses beat.
AS plain matter of honesty he
would tell her the truth. Far more
honest not to marry woman while
every thought and heartbeat is for
another than to hold to an engagement
because the day for the marriage Is
set and the brides trousseau made.
He would not write, but he would
take the next steamer and run over
and tell her. She would release him.
Then later Val would listen to him
Val, who was the embodiment of all
that was lovely and perfect on earth!
81 kept you waiting an abominally
long time; do excuse me. 1 had let
ter to write. But we have time enough
for last stroll on the beach," Val
said, coming up to him, while twisting
some f1imsy lace around her throat and
over her magnificent hair
Red? 1t was the most beautiful hair
Harold had ever seen.
ITO whom were you writing?" he
asked gayly. at must have been
volume. I've been waiting for you two
hours at least"
Harold fingered while helping her to
bring the folds of the fiimsy sweet
scented gauze closer around throat
and shoulders of rarest perfection.
'Who?" Val said, with a slight pause
and embarrassed laugh. why, to
James Atherton, of course. You know
or perhaps you don't know-that I
am engaged to him. He's coming down
shortly, and 1 am to leave aunt this
fall. What a pity you are going
abroad! l would love to have you stay.
Jim would like you so much, l know.
But of course Miss Cameron is dying
to see you.
Come. Let us have one more pleas
ant chat and stroll by the sad sea
waves before you go. What an ex-
quisite night! And how quickly the
summer has flown! Do you know,
Harold, you have made it very, very
delightful for me-"
Val turned, and looking at Harold a
LITTLE wistfully out of her big honest
gray eyes, placed her hand in his.
Slowly Harold raised it to his lips.
The last days of summer sometimes
hold shattered hopes and broken hearts
as well as scattered and dying rose
leayes.-N. o. Times-Democrat.