Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1907-11-02

not to tell my poor little story to any
ones
ooh, no. mol" said Sybil, hlushing at
the very idea of betraying a confidence.
Very real tears We're in the young bar
oness' eyes as she explained. Sybil felt
sob in her throat at first.
you must know, dear, that my Cousin
Hugh and ! were engaged until two
years ago. and very dearly we loved each
other. Life was golden dream to both
of us. The engagement was not talked
about, for Hugh had no immediate pros
poets, and you know in our rank of life
long engagements are not the fashion.
Suddenly the baron's father died-he
was Mr.. Palliser then, dear-and he
asked my father for my hand. My
father was delighted and insisted on my
breaking off my childish engagement to
Hugh pleaded. but in vain; my father
was obdurate He is poor for a peer of
the realm, and Baron Palliser by double
death was millionaire"
Sybil was silent Somehow she could
rot imagine Lord Fairbank in the char
acter of remorseless tyrant who would
blight two young lives. 1t only showed
how mistaken one can be when one is
She had been mistaken in thinking that
Hugh cared for her and wanted her to
know it.
Diana read SYPHILIS face like an open
book. Now was the time to mention the
little girl" he had kissed, now was the
time to make that girl turn from the
thought of him for ever.
you can imagin> dear Sybil how
dreary my life is. Would it not have
been better to have died2 | thinl. of
Tennyson's passionate cry
Better thou and were lying, hidden from
the hearts disgrace,
Rolled In one another's arms and silent in
a last embrace"
"Oh," thought Sybil passionate1y, s'she
does not know how she hurts mellow
can she?" The girl believed every word
she heard, for it was very evident that
Diana really still cared for her cousin
She did not try to disguise it.
II see, dear, / have your sympathy;
knew | should You understand now
why / am sad sometimes Two short
years ago Hugh told me everything, ev-
cry little detail of his life To give you
an example, a trivial one, he took a lit
tie girl, child of the people, down to
| the boat-Tace"
Sybil started perceptibly.
"Poor little thing, she had never seen
cne and he took pity on her! | don't
know where he picked her up, forgot
to ask him. Well, coming back he kissed
her. She scolded him we'll to his great
surprise He was very much amused, for
naturally he thought she was used to
kisses"
How did you know she was a child of
the peolie?" asked Syhil coldly.
| MA cherie, celia va sans dire. Girls in
our rank of life, yours or mine, don't go
to boat-races with gentlemen without a
chapercn. Well, dear, as / said, he used
to tell me everything, everything, even
! little things like that. And now, how
| different. | receive him tomorrow, as
my guest, Int there is a great gulf fixed
| between as. He is desperate He feels it
terribly, terribly. Oh, my life is unbear-
able!"
SYPHILIS heart was so filed with anger
against Hugh's 'baseness," as she
thought it, in speaking of her so lightly
end telling about those kisses, that She
really had no room for any feeling Of
pity for the beautiful young baroness,
who now rose to 90.
She kissed the girl lightly on both
cheeks, and went away, congratulating
herself that there would be very little
intercourse in the future between the
man she loved so passionately and this
giil he was growing to care for so much.
/ She knew what she had said would make
the girl turn away from him.
Sybil, left alone turned the big wood
on key in the lock of the heavy oaken
door and drew the bolt.
Then she threw herself on the bed in
passion of angry tears. Surely never,
during the three centuries that had
passed since the room was Quilt, had
! its walls seen more passionate grief.
Long, long. she wept- There was no
| Hugh A Hugh who could speak Of her
so, a Hugh without chivalrous honor,
was for her nonresident If it had only
been his hopeless love for his cousin Of
which she had heard tonight, hopeless
because Of Lord Fairbanks cruel decree.
| her heart would have been filed with
pity for lovers so ruthlessly torn asunder
The summer dawn peeped in at the
window before she closed hers eyes, and,
| in consequence, she slept late next morn
| ing, so late that Clarke tapped at the
/ door to waken her, for she was an early
riser, and Miss Ashworth was anxious.
But Sybil pleaded a headache, and
after taking the cup of tea the maid
brought she turned her eyes from the
| light and went to sleep again. This time
she did not awake until after luncheon.