The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1903-12-03
CHAPTER XIV.

uOOFt gave Wuy 10 tue phshlOuhte lONhAbs
born of a dire suspicion, which had beer
ranking in her breast for hours. The
interview between her father and Rose In
the morning, the hint at confession, the
thousand slight yet convincing tokens ol
feeling witnessed that afternoon ana
evening in her close yet silent and
stealthy watch over actions and words
something peculiar In the manner OF the
marquis, and the occasional gay yet mys'
terious jests of the Count de Clairville-
all combined to awaken within her the
bitterest and most tormenting dlstrust
and suspicion.
II will know-I will knoww she said
to herself. A little while she waited till
she was able to assume a manner OF per
feet composure, and then, lifting an ala
baster lamp from the toilet, she crossed
the gallery and entered the apartment op-
posite.
Rose had dismissed her maid and was
brushing out her hair. whose rich folds,
falling around her light shape, almost
concealed it with their shining veil. She
turned from the mirror IS Mademoiselle
Montauban entered. and lovely smile
frightened over her sweet face.
"Ah, am so glad you have come,
Helenp she said, running to her and
throwing those fair, snowy arms about
her In an innocent, loving and happy en-
brace.
And Helen Montauban, bending her
beautiful head, calmly and with seeming
kindness and affection, kissed Rose on her
forehead The girl shuddered
How cold you are, Helenl Are you
Ill? Your lips are like iceV'
mo, am not Ill, dear child, and
think It must be because you are so
warm, so excited, so happy, that you i'm
agine me to be cold. | have come to cit
with you little while before retire."
You were kind to come. wanted to
see you; | was waiting for you" She
sat down by the side of MademoiSelle
Montauban and put her arms about her
again.
We'll, you wished to see me-is that
allT' asked Helen, attempting something
like playfulness in her manner
Il wished toto tell you something,
and now have not the courage" Rose
bid her face on her companions breast
again. Helen, it was about-LOuis."
Those sweet eyes were hidden; it was
well; they could not see the stony fierce
ness Of that wild, white face above, that
grew wilder and winter as the girlish,
timid confession was made.
Helen Montauban, crushing with calm
and terrible force the thousand mad emo
tions in her breast, that struggled to have
way, compelled herself to utter, softly:
go on, Rose; l am interested-I am
listening; go on!'
And Rose told her all-all, from begin
ming to end, with her fair head lying on
that stormy heart, whose gathering fires
her innocent, whispered, bashful words
fed with a fearful sustenance. Helen
Montauban listened. She heard all this
every word, every syllable Of this con-
fession, and each word, each syllable,
struck her with a deadly blow. The de-
liberate stab of the midnight murderer
tells with no deeper power Yet she list
ened, and stirred not; she spoke some
times, made some remark or comment
and then listened again. There was
kind of savage agony within, that dwelt
upon that simple love story In its every
detail, and comprehended 1t with sharp
and greedy eagerness; but at the close, all
memory Of those details departed. All
that was left of that story, gathered into
three words-three single words, that
Rose, with bashful joy, whispered as she
finished; HE loves me-Louis loves met
And Helen Montauban said to herself,
Ia h.. ! l.
The words were branded into her heart;
they were written there In characters of
fire; they were ineffaceable.
"You are not going yet? do not 20 yet,
dear Helen! murmured Rose. stay
with me a little longer"
Her soft eyes, raised 50 tenderly, so
pleadingy, to that face, shone with
divine beauty. The gold-tinged tresses,
flowing about her graceful head, were
like the glory that surrounds the brow Of
a saint. Thus seemed this young girl as
she stood before the dark, stately Helen,
whose proud face was calm and quiet,
whose splendid eyes shot forth no shaft
of the smOthered fire within
But Helen Montauban uttered some
gentle words and turned away. She bade
Rose a pleasant good night before she
went out, and then, taking her by the
hand, bent down once more and kissed
her With that kiss she swore hatred
undying, eternal; revenge, speedy and
sure, to the one who had robbed her Of
his love. And Rose sought her pillow to
dream such dreams as youth and joy
may bring, even while hate and revenge,
with sleepless eyes, watched over her.
Helen Montauban secured herself in the
privacy and stiffness Of her chamber, and
putting her lamp on her own dressing
table, threw herself upon the couch, not
to sleep. The spirit of rest fed from
those eyes, that gloomed upon vacancy.
There was no peace for that heart, beat
ing with hard, fierce, heavy throbs be-
meath its silken vesture. Still those words
burned upon it their scorching characters
-"he loves anotherg'
She had sworn revenge. The dream
Of her whole life had been broken now.
1t was as If a single thread of shining
silver had run its glittering line through
her life-woof, and those slender fingers.
so lately pressed upon her own. had
ruthlessly snapped 1t asunder. Rose
might be innocent of intention to wrong
her-nay, she knew her to be so. AMI
yet she hated her-hated the beautiful
face, the sweet voice, that had won him
to love them. She shuddered as she
seemed to feel once again the pressure
Of that young head upon her bosom. Ii
ppressed-suffocated her; she could not
breathe. The very air Of the room was
sitting. She flung open easement with
trembling hands and leaned far out TO
drink the cool and dewy air Of the dark
midnight
This was all she thought of-that ven.
geance must be had. How Il was TO
work. or when, was unknown. Its very
shape was yet underlined; but some shape
or other 1t must take soon. At present
a vague idea only hoated before her. 1t
was sweet, in her bitterness Of soul, to
contemplate It. She would lay her plan
carefully. 1t should be matured to the
rarest perfection, before the period for
sctiou came, that there might be no fail
ure. She said to herself. Il will never
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