Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1903-12-17

[coNT1NuED.1


feel the touch of her foil. She did not
know that her eyes were getting
through his guard. that her dinples
were stabbing his heart to its middle.
"You have other advantages" he re-
Piled. (which far overbalance my
greater stature and stronger muscles"
Then after Il pause lie added. after all
girl must be !: girl
Something in his face. something in
her heart. startled her so that she made
q quick little move like that of Il rest
less bird.
You are beautiful, and that makes
my eyes and my hand uncertain" he
went on. Were l fencing with q
man there would be no glamour
he spoke in English. which he did
not often do in conversation With her.
1t was a sign that he was somewhat
wrought upon. She followed his rapid
words with difficulty, but she caught
from them Il new note of feeling. He
saw little pale flare shoot across her
face and thought she was angry
''You should not use your dimples to
distract my vision" he quickly added,
with a light laugh. 1T would be no
worse for me to throw my hat in your
face"
His attempt ut levity was obviously
weak. She looked straight into his
eyes with the steady gaze Of Il simple,
earnest nature shocked by current
quite strange to it. She did not un-
derstand him, and she did. Her fine
intuition gathered swiftly together a
hundred shreds Of impression received
from him during their recent growing
intimacy. He was patrician, as she
vaguely made him out, a man Of
wealth, whose family was great. He
belonged among people of gentle birth
and high attachments. She magniied
him so that he was diffused in her inn
agination, as difficult to comprehend
as a mist in the morning air-and as
beautiful.
you make fun OF me- she said very
deliberately. letting her eyes droop.
Then she looked up again suddenly
and continued. With certain naive ex-
preston Of disappointment gathering
in her face: II have been too free with
you. Father Beret told me not to for
get my dignity when in Your company.
He told me YOU might misunderstood
me. l don't care. shall not fence
with you again She laughed. but
there was no joyous freedom in the
sound.
"Why. Alice-my dear Miss Roussil-
Ion. YOU do HE a wrong beg Il thou
sand pardons if I've hurt YOU" he
cried. stepping nearer to her. and
can never forgive myself. You have
somehow misunderstood me- know
You have!.'
On his part it was eNaggorating Il
mere contact of mutual feelings into
dangerous collision. He was as much
self deceived as was she. and he made
more noise about it.
ut is YOU who have misunderstood
me-" she replied. smiling brightly now.
but with just faint. pitiful touch of
regret or self blame lingering in her
voice. Father Beret said You would.
/ did not believe him, but
"And you shall not believe him. said
Beverley. II have not misunderstood
you. There has been nothing. You
have treated me kindly and with beau
tiful friendliness. You have not done
or said thing that Father Beret or
anybody else could critcise. and if
have said or done the least thing to
trouble you repudiate i'll did not
mean it. Now you believe me. don't
you, Miss Roussillon:''
He seemed to be falling into the hab-
it Of speaking to her in English. She
understood it somewhat imperfectly, es-
pecially when in an earnest moment he
rushed his words together as if they
had been soldiers he was leading at the
charge step against an enemy. His
manner convinced her even though his
diction fell short.
'sThen we'll talk about something
else" she said. laughing naturally now
and retreating to chair by the hearth
side. Il want YOU to tell me all about
yourself and your family. your home
and everything"
K&AC SSdlc0 ASIStll Will an ulT u
sc1ous aplomb and motioned him to
take distant stool.
There was great heap Of dry logs in
the fireplace. with pointed flames shoot
ing out of its crevices and leaping into
the gloomy, cavelike throat Of the flue.
Outside wind passed heavily across
the roof and beloved in the chimney
top.
Beverley drew the stool near Alice.
who with charred stick used as a
poker was thrusting at the glowing
crevices and sending showers of sparks
aloft
"Why, there wouldn't be much to
ten" he said. glad to feel secure again.
"Our home is big old mansion named
Beverley Hall. on a hill among trees
and half surrounded with slave cabins.
It overlooks the plantation in the val
ley where a little river goes wandering
on its way" He was speaking French,
and abe followed him easily now, her
eyes beginning to ding ont again their
natusal sunny beams Of interest ~
MnD bern there tWo1tyAtx yoaxs ago