The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1909-04-15

| have robbed q far more inveterate
smoker of any desire for the weed.
"Oh, no., Miss Decies," Michael an
swered; Il don't want to smoke a
| bit"
The old lady bowed and led the way
from the little dining room into the
hall. When they were all in the GEN.
ter, she turned to Grant and the duch-
ess. you will excuse me, Beatrice,
| am sure" she said, with a certain
point and manne in her voice, "if /
go upstairs to my own rooms for an
hour. | have no doubt that you and
Mr.. Grant will have much to say to
each other"
With that she gathered up her train
and assembled the broad staircase with
a crackle and rustic of silk and a
rigid back.
The duchess and Grant went on
into the little blue drawing room.
Grant closed the door. The duchess
sank upon a long white and purple
Chesterfield which stood at right an
giles to the fireplace. She sighed
deeply.
Poor Aunt Augusta" she said.
"You and she don't seem to hit 1t off
at all, Michael, do your"
That doesn't matter a bit" Grant
answered. Tell me what you want
to ask me about tonight. Is it about
the poor little chap upstairs?"
Poor little chap" she said, hur-
riedly; why do you say that, Mi
chael? Why poor little chap?'"
"Oh, Beatrice, | didn't mean to put
1t like that. But when | think of the
dear little fellow. so happy and so
tiny, and all he has got to go through,
1t make me a little sad sometimes"
The duchess rose. Michael" she
said, ut can't make you as unhappy
as it makes me-his mother. | peal
this weight upon me, and nobody
knows what a weight It is. 1t is so
difficult to be great, Michael! But
little Fitzroy's part will be even hard
er than mine has been"
Don't you sometimes wish you
were back at MINIS Godscroft?"
Il wish a thousand times" she be-
gan, impetuously, and then something
in his face gave her pause. I'VE
weren't to talk In that way" she
said, In a low voice-a voice which
trembled. You mustn't put it in that
way to me. Michael"
No" he answered, slowly, II sup
pose | mustn't. | know | mustn't, Be-
atrice. But why Is it that two people
like you and | should have to remem-
Der the barrier SO often? You know
what IL means to my life"
Il know, Michael" she answered,
her lovely head dropping, her eyes
yelled with their long lashes, and a
deep sadness In her voice. 81 know
quite well. But God has put us both
in the places where we are, and We
must try and make the best of it as
humbly and as happily as possible"
Il don't see it," he answered, a
deeper note coming into his voice. 81
can't see it. Beatrice, | am not a
weak man. but my nights and DAYS
have been n long struggle to keep
silence. Yet you know-oh, yes, you
know very well-what is the one hope
and motive Of my life"
Il know" she whispered, 81 know."l
"And you?" he said. his voice gath,
ering sonance and power, and the I'M
comfortable passion within him over.
whelming all his resolutions. and
you, what Of you, Beatrice? TIL, tell
me now. tell me once and for all.
Though you may never come to me,
and | in all my life may be far away
from you-a servant. just a man who
loves you and whose whole life is
lived to do your bidding. Oh, | can't
go on. Tell mel"
She turned from him and took sew.
eral steps away, her tall and beautiful
figure walking from him-coming no
nearer, going away in wonderful re-
nunciation.
To Be Continued.