The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser., 1910-11-18

|
content when know she is with you.
Heaven bless you, dear, and grant
| your life may be happier one than
| mine. Enid, l sometimes think I am
| being punished now for my idolatry.
1 loved her more than my life-ay, 1
| fear more than my God, and now"
They clasped hands silently; Ends
| lovely eyes were wet with tears, and
! then he went, and she stood watching
his young figure, stamped with such
woe and agony as rarely come to
man, pass from her sight.
| That night she knelt down and
prayed for him, and for Dorothy, too.
She dared not let herself think of her
cousin. The naughty, beautiful face,
with it's cold, steel-gray eyes, its
| laughing mouth and ivory teeth,
would rise out of the past to mock
| her; and then once again she would
| hear the coarse screams and words
and realize with shiver that this
was proud Dorothy's end.
|
July was drawing to a close. Lady
| Derriman, now convalescent, was
thinking of migrating to her Scottish
home for change of air, and Enid was
only too glad to go.
Every now and then Gervais had
been up to see his mother, but no
word of Dorothy passed his lips to
them or between themselves when
alone.
Lady Derriman kept the bitter dis
| appointment and pain that had fol-
| lowed on her sons marriage to her.
| self, and Enid was thankful, for
what could she say now with this
awful knowledge ever before her
eyes?
One late night, so hot that the
muslin curtains did not move in the
breeze, cab ratified up to the door
and man entered the house hur-
ried1y.
Lady Derriman had gone to bed,
and Enid was alone in the drawing
room. dreaming by the open window
She started up as Gervais came in;
| he was dusty and worD, his face was
| lined and furrowed, his eyes sunk and
| weary.
| Enid" he said, with broken sob,
tit is ended; she is dead! Oh,
Dorothy, my lost wife! Ny lost
darling!"
| He staggered to chair, buried his
face in his hands and burst into
food of passionate tears. 1t was of
his fair young bride he thought then!
The agony, the horror, the misery
were gone, and yet he mourned her,
for he had loved her with love pass
ing words. Enid rose and put one
trembling hand on his bent head,
then went slowly away and left him
with his sorrow alone.
CHAPTER XXI.
Six Years After.
| what is it, Parsons?"
Lady Derriman looked up from her
| book.
"Please. my lady, I'm lookin' for
Miss Enid. Mr.. Simmonds have
walked over from Sir George Kneb-
wells and wishes to see her"
you will find her in the studio, I
fancy"
And in few moments Enid came
in. Six years had made of her very
beautiful woman; she carried herself
with rare, proud grace; the old mod
esty was there, but the shy, shrinking
timidity was gone.
Mother, what do you Think" she
laughed. kneeling down beside the
older woman, her great sapphire
eyes glistening and sparkling. Sim.
monds has just been here to tell me
he is going to be married-to Mrs.
Cullam, too"
81 heard it an hour ago from
Briggs, who, am bound to confess,
was not very complimentary to
them"
They are two dear old creatures,
and like them both.'
Enid planted her chin in her hand
and gazed into the fire, for it was
winter time once more. 81 must run
over and see Cullam some time dur
ing the day.
Il expect we shall have Lady Kneb-
we'll here to tea with Mildred; you
might drive back with them," Lady
Derriman said, fondly
The Inhabitants of Knebwell Hall
and Bromley Hall were on terms of
warm friendship. It had come as a
| surprise not unmingled with pain and
sorrow to Sir George Knebwell when
he found that his poor young cousin,
who died so prematurely, had be-
queathed her fortune and estates to
him. He never knew and never
would know that it was Gervais' do
ings, and that Dorothy had always
hated him; but the earl had guarded
her memory so carefully that only a
remote few we're aware Of her terrible
end, and those were stanch to him
and kept his secret we'll.
The story was so painful, so hor-
rible altogether, that Gervais could
not bear to think that he might be
brought in contact with any portion
of it again, and Immediately follow
ing the quiet funeral he went abroad,
as the world thought truly, "to help
distract his mind from his over
whelming grief"
Enid and Lady Derriman had lived
for year and a half in London and
Scotland, and then, yielding to the
earnest entreaties of the county, they
came back to the Manor and made it
their home.
Enid could scarcely have described
what constituted her happiness in the
five peaceful years that followed, but
that she was happy none could doubt;
all loved her, and to Lady Derrimar
hr 7, oh Il
During those long years Gervais, Ear
of Derriman, never returned to Eng
land once; but, though absent, he
was well acquainted with all thai
went on at home, for his mother
wrote regularly and cheerfully-
more cheerfully, indeed, than hel
heart prompted. but she was MOI
selfish in her love.
Dare Broughton had been down
covapa1 tipoac n