The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1904-03-24

| one. For love had awakened, a love
that would never sleep again.
Il see," she said, slowly unfurlug
her fan, your emotion is due mercy
to gratitude. MI Ralston, how long
have you been away from England?"
The change Of tone and subject was
not lost upon Ralston. They had been
treading on delicate ground, ami,
! thankful for the deviation, he replied
Two years this month, but it seems
like four-I have seen and done SO
much in the time"
Turning to the girl beside him he
noted the shade of bitterness that had
crept over her face, and somehow as
| he looked he knew that she was not
| happy in her engagement. A wave Of
pity for Sir Hervey welled up in his
heart, for the baronet idolized his
! young betrothed.
Sir Hervey Ralston, honorable and
! clear-souled himself, incapable of sub
| terfuge or pretense, was never ready
to imagine evil of any shape in others.
And if during the weeks that followed
| it seemed to him that Adelaide grew
more and more impressive, while a
spirit of unrest had seized upon his
nephew, he strove to see no manner
of connection.
And what about Hugh?
At one and the same time had the
gates of heaven and hell been opened
to him, and he reveled in his bliss,
only to writhe in the agony involved
1 No words on the subject had he and
/ Adelaide exchanged, thus far they had
been loyal to Sir Hervey. But Hugh
| smiled bitterly as he acknowledged 10
himself the limitations of that loyalty.
! None knew better than he the sub
tlety of loves confessions.
On the evening of the last day in
March he waited nervously for his I'M
cle'S approach to the smoking-room
which had been the scene of many a
confidential talk before his voyage TO
New Zealand. Sir Herveys step
seemed to have lost its lightness, or so
it seemed to Hugh, as he listened to
its drawing near. He was later, too,
in joining him than was his wont.
Had any suspicion crossed his mind?
Were his thoughts of next weeks hap
piness unalloyed, or were they shad-
owed by vague yet unmistakable
cloud?
Hugh Ralston wondered, but said
nothing as his uncle entered the room.
The latter, with his usual precision
| and lit ri him
self, and was soon engrossed in the
pages of the evening paper.
Thankful to escape the customary
evening chat, Hugh paced monotonous-
| ly up and down the room, with tenn
pies throbbing and the blood surging
through his veins. How could he
breach the subject that tonight must
be faced once and for all?
MY dear boy" said Sir Hervey at
length, glancing over the top of his pa
per, could you not sit down? You
seem restless tonight"
Hugh dropped into the nearest chair.
Silence reigned for full five minutes,
a silence that Ralston broke by saying,
with the composure born of despair:
81 cannot stand England after all, I'm
Gle Hervey. | am off again next Sat
urday. You can do without me on the
sixth, can you not?' He laughed a lit
| tie curiously as he added: Il am hard
ly a necessary part of the play"
Sir Hervey folded his newspaper,
laid it on the table and deliberately
adjusted his glasses before looking in
his nephew's direction. DO | under
stand you Alright? You prefer not to
be with me on the day of my mar
riage?"
Hugh Ralston bowed his head.
Sir Hervey rose from his chair and
instinctiyely the younger man did the
same, a movement that brought them
face to face as the words: you dare
not be with mel" broke from the bar
onet's lips
The eyes of the two men met, and the
soul of each was read. Then as Hugh
leaned on the mantelpiece, burying his
face on his arms, with a groan, it was
the elder man who proved the strong
er, who first brought light into the
darkness that had descended
Hugh was conscious at last of the
! pressure of a hand upon his shoulder,
and as through a vast space and time
he heard the voice of Sir Hervey say
ing: at is well, my boy | am not
worthy of her, and might not-and
should not-have made her happy.
You must not blame yourself; far
from it. l am going now to Lady
| Wolverton's and-will-release her"
The last words were wrung from lips
that were growing pale. Sir Hervey
walked slowly to the door Hugh had
never moved.
Turning round as his fingers closed
over the handle, the uncle said, inn
ploringly: Don't, my lad! Don t
take it so to heart. I shall get over
it, and you-you will be happy, as you
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