Vernon County censor. [volume] (Viroqua, Wis.) 1865-1955, 1910-02-09
Continued.

uuudpplHesSs No, Su6 HAS HOL DSSA
home, she says, and signs uncon-
sciously as she adds, musingly:
81 wonder how Regis looks? How
long it seems since l saw the sea-"
.'Look!v says Clarence, with eager
ness, and he points to line Of light
which has suddenly become defined
in the distance.
What Is that?' asks Jeanne.
"The seal" he says, as pleased as
If it belonged to him.
Jeanne's face flushed.
'Really?'' she asks, GREATNESS with
delight. 81 did not know we were so
near
quite near" he says I'm al
most glad you didn't, or l should
have lost the pleasure OF showing
you. And | may show you, may I
not?'
Jeanne does not hear the question,
and he goes on:
81 generally run down before
breakfast There's a uear way through
the woods; you coGidnt find it alone.
May | show your"
Jeanne rouses, ard is about to say
Eyes with alacrity, as she would
have done in the old days, bat sud
denly remembers that she is no
longer Jeanne Bertram, but the
Marchioness of Ferndale.
Thanks" she says, Il need not
trouble you. dare say some OF
them win be going"
Clarences face falls.
"Ah, yes" he says, trying to SPEAK
cheerfully. Il thought you would
like to see it tomorrow morning, as
soon as possible
But Jeanne does not hear him; all
her eyes are for the line of simmer
ing. silver light.
Suddenly a sound makes her start.
II is Vanes voice.
She starts, she does more-she
recognizes the song.
Let us go back she says, in
low voice.
As they enter the drawing-room
there is a profound silence, and every
we - tNAAtu Ob tuEuts dAft
ing. almost lounglng against the pr.
ano, hears the rustic Of the dress and
looks. to, just as Clarence goes
down on one knee 10 pick up the
flower which she has dropped.
Jeanne stands upright as an arrow,
with a faint flush of color on her face.
and a sudden light in her eyes. But
they are not called there by the fact
that all eyes are turned on her and
Clarence, but by the sight of Lady
Lucille looking up with half-closed
eyes at Vane, as she plays for him
the accompaniment 10 the song,
which was the first she had hearu
him sing. He has not sung since her
marriage, and yet he sings for Lady
Lucille and chooses this song.
sudden pang shoots through
Jeanne's young heart. 1t is scarcely
jealousy-rather wounded love.
With sudden. swift smile that
sends the blood to Clarence's face. she
says:
May | change my mind? l would
like to so down to the beach tomor-
row, il you will show me the way"
Clarence inclines his head, scarcely
trusting himself to speak.
At what timer" he asks under
his mustache. is nine too early?"
'Nine!" says Jeanne, and she
moves away as Lady Lucille, the song
being ended. amid loud buzz of
eager admiration, comes up to her.
lis not the marquis good-natured,
Lady Ferndale? So soon after din.
ner! Do you know the song? 1t is a
great fayorite of mine--very great
favorite. We heard 1t when we were
at Naples-did we not, Lord Fern
dale?'
Jeanne, hiding the culver of her
sensitive lips behind her fan, smiles
serenely, but the words have struck
home to her innermost soul
The song which he had sung to her
In the old house. How often had he
sung 1t with this blue-eyed, golden.
haired woman, and why did she flaunt
it in his wife's eyes?
She is still asking the question
when vane comes up and leans over
her chair.
"Will you play, Jeanne2" he asks,
In the low constrained voice in which
he always addresses her. THE count
ess has sent me to ask you"
Pray excuse met" SAYS Jeanne,
and, with slight incline of his hand.
some head, as If he had received a
blow, he takes her refusal to the
countess.
CHAPTER XIII.
On the right a rising line of noun
tain-green. purple and crimson in
the rays of the setting sun; on the
left the fringe of pines, which stand
as outposts OF the deep. dark. shad-
owy wood Above. blue sky,
fiecked here and there with feeey
clouds; below. an undulating valley.
broken by rocky little ravines. through
which runs noisy, silvery stream.
Altogether. as sweet and romantic a
bit of scenery as painter ever tried
TO depict or poet to describe ana
failed. So quiet is this secluded spot
that one might fancy oneself in one
OF the valleys Of Herefordshire; but
this is not England---it is Germany:
the fringe Of frs in the beginning Of
the Black Forest, and the tiukle OF