Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1907-03-22
OHAPTER Xv.-(Continued.)

rooms which opened to each other. One
of the girls sat down to the piano, the
others gathered round it. Sir Everard
strolled toward the other room. Mary
sat on a sofa, apparently lost in thought,
and Charles Baumgarten stood under
meath the chandelier, with an open book.
Sir Everard sat down by Mary.
1T has been long separation, Mary"
he whispered. "Did you think was new
er coming?"
Yes, it has been long" she family said.
Her hands were trembling, her heart was
beating; she spoke-and looked-as if
she were frightened.
but from no fault of mine," he re-
turned. Had you permitted a regular
correspondence, you would have known
this"
A hasty glance had shown him that
no one was looking. Charles Baumgar-
ten, buried in his book, stood with his
back toward them; the rest we're round
the piano, singing. He bent his face
down to Mary's and his lips touched her
cheek.
"0h, don't don't !" she shrinkingly ut
tered.
Nay, my dearest, would you deny it
TO met 1t is a reward long waited for"
She gasped for breath as she stood up
and caught the corner of the mantelpiece.
Her face had turned painfully white
again.
The song over, the conversation became
general, and presently Sir Everard rose
to leave.
''Will you tell Lady Grace, with my
kind regards, that anticipate the pleas
ure of seeing her tomorrow" said Sir
Everard to Charles, as he held out his
hand.
Charles did not choose to see the hand,
and he replied, coldly and stifiy: II do
not reside with Lady Grace, and shall
not be likely to meet her tonight or to-
morrow"
HE has his mothers PRIDE" thought
Sir EveFard. But Sir Everard was mis-
taken.
Mary slipped out of the room after.
ward, and she had not returned to 1t
when Charles said goodnight.
As he passed a small parlor, on his way
out, usually devoted to the studies and
pursuits of the young ladies, Charles ear
caught the sound Of something very like
sob. He halted and looked in. There
were no candles in the room, but the fire
was blazing away and in its light stood
Mary. He went in and shut the door be-
hind him. She smoothed the traces of
tears from her face, but could not hide
its CHASTITY look Charles turned white
also, and confronted her upon the old,
worn hearthrug
"The time for concealment has passed,
Mary as Il seems to me, he began. 1--WE
have gone on. like two children, making
believe to hide things from one another.
This is the awaking What Is to be
done2 You cannot act lie, and marry
that man |"
"Oh, Charles, what are you saying?"
she uttered, in a wailing tone. II would
rather dep
''Yes for you love me-nay, don't
tell you the time for concealment Is
over, and this night is the awakening?
You love me-and oh, my darling how
love you cannot stay now to tell. Nor
need /, for you have known 1t without my
telling you"
II am terrified" she whispered. II
am nearly terrified to death at the thought
of what is before me. Think of the wrong
/ have done to him y
And l think Of my position, my pow
erty," returned Charles Baumgarten. IF
spoke to your father he would turn me
out Of the house and keep me out of 1t.
We have just gone on, living in fools
paradise, Mary, shutting our eyes to the
future"
'Not a word must be breathed to my
father" she whispered eagerly.
'Would you marry Everard Wilmot"
sharply cried Charles Baumgarten. "But
that forced control upon myself with
an iron will, should have struck him
when he kissed you tonight"
She cried out with pain. "You saw 1t,
thenT
i saw 1t? felt 1t. Felt It IS II 1t had
been a sharp steel, piercing my heart. Oh,
the curse of poverty seem to be help
less in the matter. Mary, can only
trust in you"
"a dim idea came over me, while /
sat with him on the sofa, of speaking to
him." she said, in a tone of abstraction.
"But / don't know how / could do it.
He Is so good man. so honorable, so
kindly; one of those men you may trust.
wish he had never taken it in his head
to ask me to marry him wish l had
followed my own impulse at the time
and declined him."
I'VE have nearly our whole lives be-
fore us, Mary, and they must not be sac
rifced to misery" he urged. "NIary, you
must wait for me; know l shall get
on"
leave me to think 1t over for to-
night" she answered. 81 must try and
see what ought to be done-and do it,"
He put his arm around her to kiss
her; but she started away. CHARLES.
at present, remember l am engaged to
him."
1t was Of no use. II must take away
the one that he left" whispered Baumgar-
ten.
CHAPTER XVI.
Mary DynevOr lay awake the whole
night, thinking over what she ought to do.
To her father she could not speak; his
temper was too fiery, his authority abso-
lutte, she was utterly In awe of him. She
could only see one way out of the diem
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