FIRST BOOK

## CHAPTER I.

"The place is silent, rarely sound
Is heard those ancient walls around."
Moultrie.

The day was drawing to its close, the
setting sun was gradually sinking out of
sight behind a cluster of grand old trees,
which held their heads up proudly in the
wind and sent a friendly shadow towards the
Castle of the O'Donovan's.

One could easily see, though the moss
and lichen had grown grey upon parts of its
ruins, there were still traces of its fallen
grandeur, for it had gradually and slowly
fallen away. At a little distance a beautiful
river flowed. Sunshine and shadow were pur-
suing each other over its surface where the
golden fades into the grey, and as each wave
washes nearer to the shore, it is ever chang-
ing its hue from gloom to brightness, until
it breaks upon the rock and is no more. So
had once Harold R--------'s life been -
first, golden hours of youth and manhood;
then the gloomy and sadder ones of life.
Finally, "the grey curtain of time drops down
over his head" shutting him out of sight for-
ever.

Ernest, the elder of the brothers, rather
wild and gay in his youth, had preferred
travelling to the quieter life at home, and
his father had consented to his doing so.

A year passed. Harold and his feeble
old father had lived peacefully at the
castle, when a dispute arose between father
and son, for Harold had fallen in love with
a plebeian lady of lovely character and very
beautiful. Baron -------- was inclined

(2)

to be tyrannical, and when he heard of his
son's conduct, overwhelmed him with abuse;
swore he would have nothing to do with him,
would disinherit him if he married below his
rank. All ties should be severed. He was
infuriated and excitedly paced up and down
the room.

Harold, during his father's rage had
stood with folded arms, proudly and defiantly,
and his laconic answer "Willing or not willing,
I am determined I shall marry her", made the
cunning old man try another way. Mitigating
his anger, in a less boisterous manner, he
tried to touch his pride, and advised him to
abandon his silly fancy, - to marry a lady
of rank, and not to make his ancestors turn
over in their graves at the disgrace he was
about to bring on an old and honored name.
But his son maintained his point, and "malgré
des objections" they were soon after married.

V--------- W---------, the lady love of
Harold R---------, had been adopted by
Countess von Germaine, for V's parents were
dead, and Countess von Germaine at her mar-
riage had given her away.

It was a cold night, the ground was
covered with snow, and a lake near by reflected
in its leaden colored waters nothing but the
points of the bleak scenery. True, every-
thing looked dark and gloomy. The wind
groaned and moaned through the trees. A
pale and cold moon emerged now and then
through the mist of clouds. The woods cast
a "gulf of shadows" around, forming all kinds
of ghastly shapes. There was a dim light
burning inside the Castle. The curtain was
drawn aside and an old man with grey hair
looked out into the dark, but nothing was
to be seen..

Suddenly a sleigh drove through the
arch and a man sprang up the marble steps

(3)

of the Castle R--------, and rushed precip-
itately into the house. But he was detained,
the hand of the faithful old servant was
laid upon his arm, and his voice, stifled
with grief, answered Harold's questioning
look "Too late, Herr R--------, too late."

As both Baron R--------'s sons were away
from him, he continued to live alone in the
Castle, seldom going out and receiving few
visitors. He had often heard from Ernest
telling him about his travels, but soon all
letters ceased, and for a year he had heard
nothing from his son. He grew older and
weaker, and the faithful old servant seeing
that his master would soon die, sent word
to Harold telling him about his father, and
Harold putting aside the wrong done to him
hastened his journey by travelling night and
day, and now had arrived -- too late! The
servant gave him a piece of paper he had
found in the Baron's hand the day he died.
It was underlined in ink, and it was impossible
to read it intelligibly - it was crushed and
the perspiration from the old man's hand had
mingled the ink into the words. This he
made out: his brother's name, and the name
of a ship that was wrecked and all on board
lost. And now he was the next heir, but he
had lost father and brother, and he had loved
them though he had been separated from them
for one he loved better. After this sad
shock, Harold removed his wife and child to
his old home.

But to return to the first page of our
story. This castle, the sole property and
only care of a delicate young widow who is
dying in the same room where twelve years
ago Old Baron von R-------- died, and later
her husband. The room was lighted only by
the golden blaze of the setting sun, whose
fading brightness gilds faintly the remotest
corner of the room. On the pillow, the

(4)

delicate face lay, in a frame of wonder-
fully beautiful brown hair. The tired
brown eyes, subdued and mournful, gazed
from one object to another, and suddenly
lighted up with love as they rested on
the rosy face of her little child who at
that moment eagerly entered the room,
holding forward in her dimpled fingers
a daintily tinted flower, while she cried:
"Look, Mama! Is it not a lovely Indian
pipe, so white and pure," and she placed
it carefully in her mother's hand, and
pressed her rosy little lips to her mother's
colorless ones.

---------- von R---------- beckoned
to an elderly nurse who approached.
"Katherine, Countess von Germaine surely
could not have received my letter, else
she would have been here ere this."
Motioning the nurse nearer, she whispered
with a troubled and trembling voice:
"Katherine, take my child to her, and
give her this letter. "Countess von
Germaine is to receive my Vizlete,
educate and bring her up as her own
child until she is of age. Give this
picture to Vizlete. My likeness is
on one side, and her uncle's on the other."
She took her little child's hand and
clasped it tight between her own. She
could say no more, still the little flower
lay in her hand. Could you picture a
lovelier or sadder scene? The beautiful
face - her child calling upon her mother
to speak to her, Vizlete, - the faithful
Katherine at prayer by her side, while
the curiosity of the sun prying everywhere,
spreading its shadows of gold, darts through
the snowy curtains, lingering a few moments
upon the face of the dead, and lighting up
her beauty with softened radiance, then
sinks its head behind the rounded hills
leaving all in darkness, but---

(5)

"from night sunshine and day arose to
laugh aside the cloud with playful scorn"
So can the soul sink on the pillow of
death to rise to God's golden throne -
"At Rest."

## Chapter II.

"Oh! how impatience gains upon the soul
When the long-promis'd hour of joy
draws near."
Mrs. Tighe's Psyche.

"When will they come? I declare it
is enough to break one's patience. All
Richard's note said was that he would be
home the first of the week, and here it
is Saturday. As if it was not lonely
enough here."

The sounds were quickly and fret-
fully uttered. The speaker half reclined
upon a sofa, one tiny foot rested upon the
lounge and the other impatiently tapped a
pretty embroidered stool which was placed
by her side. In a white jewelled hand she
held a novel which did not seem to interest
her, for only occasionally would she turn
one of its pages.

Mena von Germaine, for that was the
young lady's name, was a belle. She was
very pretty and of medium size. Her light
hair was gracefully coiled around her head,
and her complexion was fair. There was an
expression around the mouth that did not
suit such a pretty face. It was cold and
peevish, and the thin lips were tightly
compressed over her teeth. Mena was very
young - a spoiled and capricious beauty -
petted and spoiled by a brother whom she was
very much attached to and loved very dearly.
He it was whom she expected, and had been
looking forward to his return with a friend
who was to spend several weeks with him.
Just as she finished speaking she heard the

(6)

sound of sleigh bells, and with a quick
spring she ran towards the window to see
if it was Richard. But no: How provoking!
Only the butcher, or baker, or somebody
else had come for orders - she did not
know which. Then with a pout upon her
lips, she turned from the window which
looked out upon the clear, frosty snow to
a bright wood fire which burned brightly
in the old-fashioned hearth. Mena's rich
dress was very becoming as suitable to the
cold weather-- a dark blue velvet under-
skirt, with a long cashmere over-dress to
match, with deep blue twisted fringe, very
tastfully fastened at the side.

"When do you think Richard will come,
Mamma?"

Countess von Germaine's answer did not seem
to satisfy her, so the spoiled beauty
returned once more to the cosy little corner
rather impatiently to fondle her lap dog.

Countess von Germaine was quietly
sewing near the fire. How unlike were
mother and daughter! The Countess's hair
which had been black, but time had changed
to grey, was carefully arranged in three
puffs on each side of her face, the back
twisted in a coil, a lace cap placed neatly
on top. A heavy black silk with delicate
lace that fell softly around her neck and
hands. Her expression was kind and gentle
Near her on the great fur rug little Viz-
lete sat. Close to her side was curled
the big black Newfoundland dog, his head
resting on her lap, occasionally he would
awake to turn around and kiss her hand to
show his affection, and then quietly fall
asleep again. Anto had found a true friend
in Vizlete. She did not tease him or torment
him as other children would have done, but
always gave him a gentle pat and would romp
with him, but romping was never permitted

(7)

when Mena was near, for she would always
speak sharply to her and give her one of
her sternest looks with her cold blue eyes,
for she detested the orphan child that had
been so unexpectedly brought to her home,
and besides a noise always made her head
ache, and Vizlete would go quietly to her
favorite place on the rug, often tears
would spring to her eyes and she would bend
over Anto to hide them. Countess von
Germaine was always good and kind and
motherly, but still not a mother, and Viz-
lete missed her mother so and her dear old
home, and often "Mother" would burst from
her lips and hot scalding tears would flow
almost every time she looked at her black
dress.

She had been at ---------- a year.
How different Vizlete looked from the rosy,
dimpled child at R----------castle. Now
her cheeks were pale and thin and hardly
like the mischievous little girl that she
once was. Being so thin made her features
seem sharp, and the bright little mischiev-
ous twinkle in her deep hazel eyes was
almost subdued or melancholy. Still at
times she would look beautiful as she bends
over to softly stroke Anto's woolly head,
the bright rays from the fire striking her
curly golden brown hair with here and there
streaks of gold.

Vizlete dearly loved Countess von Germaïne
"Aunty" she had learned to call her, but why
Mena was so cold towards her she did not know.
Vizlete naturally quick and impulsive at home
had been every one's pet, everyone loved her.
But here, Countess von Germaine and faithful
old Anto, Richard's dog, alone loved her.
Mena's brother was expected every moment.
Would he be kind to her, or would he too be
like the sister, cold and supercilious,
considering her a nuisance, and a hindrance
to their happiness?

(8)

Half past eight had struck and still
Richard von Germaine had not returned.
Countess von Germaine was now anxious and
troubled. Could anything have happened to
her son? Mena, her face pressed closely
against the window, peeped out into the night.
The library lights had not yet been lighted,
and excepting the bixxxy golden blaze from
the old grate fire, whose brightest shadows
gild the remotest corner of the room extending
over the furniture that any connoisseur might
have been pleased had he been called upon to
name the intrinsic value of, those old and
ancient treasures that belonged to their
ancestors. Mena, at last hearing the tinkle
of the sleigh bells, uttered an exclamation
of delight, sprang to the window, called to
her mother that they had come, and then made
her way to the hall to receive her brother
and his friend, leaving her mother to follow
at a slower pace.

The heir was joyfully received, and
congratulations, embraces, questions and
answers were duly reciprocated. Vizlete,
who had fallen asleep on Anto's soft neck
for a pillow, was forgotten and left alone.
Now all thought was of Baron von Germaine.
Lights brilliantly illuminated the elegant
parlor, all gaily laughing and talking had
gathered there. The fire had already incin-
erated leaving the library dark except when
the moon had stolen in, giving everything
a ghostly appearance. But Vizlete was not
to be left to doze quietly. Anto, hearing
greater noise than usual outside, sprang
up and commenced scratching desperately at
the door trying to escape so as to ascertain
the cause of the confusion. Vizlete, so
suddenly awakened, felt a little intimidated
at being left alone in the great dark room,
and hastily groped her way towards the door.
Anto gave a loud bark, and the door was
opened. On seeing a stranger, but recognizing
his master, he jumped upon him, wagged his tail,
and made more noise about his return than
anyone else had done.

(9)

Vizlete had already reached the door and dazzled by the glaring light, looked paler than ever in her black dress. Richard had been occupied caressing his dog, but did not until that moment perceive her half emerging from the moonlit room. He uttered an exclamation of surprise "But I thought you a small ghost" and he was about to approach her when Vizlete who had so suddenly appeared, as suddenly disappeared. When she reached the short flight of stairs, she stopped on the first turn out of sight to take breath and heard his merry laugh and a clear distinct voice say: "Well, Anto, old fellow, the ghost knows how to vanish. I do not see where she has gone" And then other voices mingled with his, and Vizlete, who stood in awe of ghosts, and had always imagined them white, and her dress was black enough so why had he called her a ghost, startled at the idea of resembling one, fled to her own room.

## CHAPTER III.

On the following morning Vizlete awoke bright and early, and gazed around her room wondering with that sleepy feeling where she was. Tired the night before, she had cried herself to sleep on the unhappy thought of her being a ghost. Suddenly remembering that if she did not dress quickly, she would lose her morning romp with Anto, and springing lightly from her bed, hastily dressing she soon found herself in the cosy library. Already the fire had been lighted and Anto quietly lay upon the rug quietly awaiting his usual romp. At the sound of Vizlete's footsteps, he bounced to her side looking up into her face with his great thoughtful eyes. And Vizlete throwing her arms around his neck fondly caressing him, joyfully exclaimed,

"Now, old fellow, for our romp,"

(10)

and taking his head between her hands, she led him towards the sofa, hid his head under the cushions, and gently patting him told him to be quiet. Then fled to the other end of the room, "frolicsome and with all the mischief of a child" she nestled behind one of the old arm chairs. Peeping from her hiding place, she softly called "Anto" Anto, who was almost suffocated under the cushion, gladly obeyed Vizlete's call, and rushed around the room several times, then spying her, bounded back to the sofa, while Vizlete followed him, her merry little voice ringing out clear and joyfully as she caressed him, and calling him "a naughty dog for finding her so soon". "Oh Anto, supposing Mena von Germaine should open the door and see us romping in this style, wouldn't she scold? She would look haughtier and colder than ever with her big agate eyes. And, Anto, I have seen her brother at last. I think it was he, and I doubt if I will like him either. He is nothing like his sister, tall dark and handsome, but really he called me a ghost last night, and Anto, do you know what a ghost is - a big, bony, white - oh'. horrible looking, like I don't know what! Tell me, Anto, do I look like one? and Vizlete's beautiful hazel eyes rested on Anto's in earnest expectation, as if he would answer. -- But, look Anto, old fellow, it is quite late. They will be down presently." And poking poor Anto's head under the cushions, she gazed around her a few minutes to see where to hide.

The bow window was shaded by satin and lace curtains gracefully looped back, and behind the curtain Vizlete thought would do. Lightly bounding forward, she was about to enter, when she started back in terror, and in so doing backed against the table. A sudden crash followed. Trembling she turned. A beautiful vase of M.V.G's that had stood upon the table lay in broken fragments at her feet. She pressed her tiny

(11)

hands over her mouth to repress the cry
that would force its way to her lips.
The cause of Vizlete's first terror emerged
from behind the curtain. Richard von G.
in the habit of rising early, had taken a
short walk around his beautiful place and
had come in from the clear cold air to enjoy
the fire in the library. He had remained
standing, his head resting upon his hand,
in the recess of the window until Vizlete
had entered. She had not noticed him being
so interested in her game with Anto. He
had recognized the child of the previous
evening, but had turned to reintegrate his
thoughts. But now his reveries were
suddenly by the fall of the
vase. He uttered a short exclamation of
surprise and then half knelt to gather the
fragments. Vizlete stood silently watching
the expression of his manly face. She had
expected him to break out into a passion of
rage at her carelessness. He had hardly
spoken, and as he knelt, in her impulsive
way she suddenly threw both arms around his
neck, while her golden brown curls rested
on his shoulder.

For a few minutes her sobs prevented
her from speaking. Suppressing them, however,
she looked up into his face. Her voice
trembled as she cried:

"Oh! please forgive me, I was so--so--"

"I frightened you. So" he interrupted,
"you see it was not altogether your fault.
Come, tell me at which you were the most
frightened -- at the broken vase, or at
me? It was wrong of me to hide in that
way. Forgive you! Certainly I forgive
you. It was my fault more than it was
yours, and I do not think Mena will be
hard on us."

While he was speaking he had arisen, and
now gently drew her hand in his, and with
the other he stroked her curls.

(12)

Vizlete now remembered the words she had
spoken. Could he have heard them? She
quietly drew her hand from his. She had
spoken ill of him and his sister. Oh!
if she had only -- A rustle of a
dress -- the sound of footsteps -- made
them quickly turn around. M.v.G. and
Sir --- Linderwallen, Richard's friend,
had heard the crash and had entered, but
had waited at the door. Neither Vizlete
nor the Baron had heard them. Mena stepped
forward with a grace peculiar to her. She
had heard and had witnessed the whole
circumstance.

"Oh, my pretty vase!" she exclaimed,
"I am so sorry it is broken. It is
the one you gave me. Do not mind,
Richard. Do not worry yourself."

As she passed Vizlete, a slight frown
contracted her smooth brow. She bent her
eyes brimming with meaning, colder and
haughtier than ever, on Vizlete. They
seemed to annihilate her. Vizlete's eyes
drooped as those of Mena rested on her,
but she raised them quickly, her cheeks
flushed, her eyes flashed as she met Mena's
and with a defiant air she said:

"It was an accident. I am sorry your
vase is broken, but I could not help it."

Mena's manner seemed to change. Sir L---
was watching them. Could he have noticed
her manner? She blushed slightly, turned
with a quiet smile, but in a tantalizing
voice, answered:

"Of course, you could not help it,
child. L---, you were speaking
of your new neighbors. Surely the
K---'s have not sold their castle-
the Square Old Towers. No, not that."

Sir L--- answered carelessly:

"The family have just returned from
abroad. They have deserted the old
Square Towers for over fifteen years."

(13)

"Do you know any of the family?"

"The Baron" was Sir L---'s laconic answer.

"Sir L----, if you are going to answer me in monosyllables, I shall go and talk to Richard." Mena said with pique.

Sir L--- did not seem to hear her. He leaned against the mantle in thoughtful silence. Mena pronounced him stupid and joined Richard who was sitting on the sofa. Vizlete had not moved, she seemed perfectly unconscious of Anto's repeated kisses upon her hand. Discouraged, Anto walked over to his master to be petted. Vizlete started as Anto retreated toward Richard and her eyes reproachfully followed him. She looked around her, and met Sir L----'s earnest gaze. She attempted to pass him, but he caught her hand so as to detain her and said pleasantly:

"Vizlete - is not that your name? - Yes, I thought so. I see Anto has become quite fond of you. You ought to consider yourself very fortunate. Mena v.G. has quite given up the idea of being friends with him. He may be jealous of her----" as he said this he cast a contemptuous look at the wooly little poodle by her side on the sofa. "And after all my entreaties and pats, he looks savage at me out of one eye."

"Anto's affection is returned. We have been real friends, ever since the evening I came. I believe he took compassion on my loneliness and indeed he has been a good companion."

Vizlete smiled, nodded and passed on to her accustomed place on the rug near the hearth.

(13a)

## CHAPTER IV

Vizlete sat by the fire, watching the logs burn and crackle, imagining a castles and forms of the half burnt wood and ashes. Near her on the sofa, Mena and Richard sat conversing in low tones. She did not seem to hear them, so occupied was she with her own thoughts. Her own name spoken in contemptuous tones made her pay full attention. She could not help playing eavesdropper. She waited patiently for the coming words. She could not hear every word that was uttered. The first were however:

"We might contrive to send her to a boarding school. I cannot bear her, contemptuous little nuisance. I felt like tearing her from you this morning. I could not bear to see her sly, cunning motions, trying to make you love her. I hate her. She is forever romping. If mother would only consent ---"

Vizlete lost her next words, but she heard Richard's reply:

"Oh, well! If mother loves the child, what does it matter? You need not let her annoy you."

"Oh, no, of course not. Just because the child is pretty, and has pretty curls and pretty cunning ways, you think that she does not annoy me, but she does, Richard."

Here Mena threw her arms about his neck and looked up beseechingly into his face.

"You will talk to mother about it?"

(14)

Richard bent down and kissed her half pouting lips, but the conversation was interrupted by Anto's quietly walking towards Vizlete. Richard whistled. Anto turned his head half round but made a step further towards Vizlete.

"Come here, sir. Dare you disobey me?"

Richard's voice was so stern that it made Vizlete start. Anto looked at Richard's frowning face, then at Vizlete's large wistful eyes pleading more for her than Richard's stern command. Vizlete smiled as he looked and held out her hand towards him.

At that moment Sir L------ came up. All were eagerly watching to see who Anto would favour. Mena bent forward and sarcastically whispered to Richard:

"Maybe you will believe me now. She will win your faithful dog's love that no one could win from you before. Surely affairs are terminating most satisfactorily. Take care, Richard, you will frighten the dear little girl with those beautiful hazel eyes, if you speak so sternly."

Vizlete raised her eyes from Anto to Richard's face. He was evidently very irritated. His dark eyes flashed. He bit his lip with vexation as he met Vizlete's eyes. He had spoken so kindly to her this morning. Should she by rising and walking away so that Anto could show no partiality, retain his love, or even good will? She loved Anto so dearly, and it seemed as if he would favour her. But then, no matter what she should do, Mena would contrive some way or other to make him hate her. She stole a rapid glance at Mena. A satisfied smile played around her mouth contradicting a slight frown which showed she was disappointed. Mena's secret thoughts were:

'Richard will hate her if Anto, after loving him so, turns to Vizlete, but I will gain

(15)

my end and it will be better for me that he should dislike her, hateful little thing. But then I do not want Anto to favor Vizlete. If I dared, I would throw my arms around Anto's neck and prevent him from going to either. But then he would growl, and perhaps bite me. He always does when I approach him.

That smile disturbed all Vizlete's good resolutions. She should see to whom he would go. In a low pleading voice she cried "Anto, An------" but a look at Richard's face made her stop, while he reiterated his command. Anto shook his woolly head, turned around and around, and seemed greatly disturbed. but his master's commands were very stern, and with eyes still riveted on Vizlete, he moved towards him.

"Well, old fellow, you are quite a little while making up your mind" said Sir L------ laughingly.

Vizlete's heart sank. Every one seemed deserting her, even Anto who had loved her so much. Her heart was very lonely. Then it seemed as if indeed she was alone in the "Wide, Wide World". Her sobs nearly choked her, and in despair she pressed her hands over her eyes, but instantly withdrew them. Vizlete's pale coaxing face was too much even for Anto's dog heart. He gave a loud bark at Richard. A cry of joy escaped from Vizlete's pale lips, for Anto was bounding towards her.

A slight moan followed. Sir L------ was the first to recover his presence of mind, and stooping he raised Vizlete's unconscious form in his arms and carried her to the sofa. Vizlete had half risen as Anto bounded upon her. She had lost her balance and fallen on the sharp end of the andirons, and struck her head with such force that she had fainted. They sent for Countess von Germaine, and her

(16)

gentle administering care soon brought
the unconscious child to. All were bending
over her in silent anxiety. Even M. Ger-
maine's face expressed unfeigned sympathy,
for all knew that she was suffering, for
she had received a deep cut in the side of
her head.

## CHAPTER V.

Several months after we find Vizlete
entirely recovered from her fall sitting by
the wide open window which commanded a fine
view of the lawn, enjoying the fresh breeze.
The sun forces its way through the fleecy
clouds making all objects look joyous with
its bright beams; waking the little violets
clustered together in their mossy beds, and
"the birds whose pinions court the sunbeam's
fire" utter forth their sweet notes, and flit
from tree to tree rocking the highest boughs
to and fro, and adding new life and song to
the scene. The blades of grass in their
excess to pass their fellowand yet they are
kept in equal height.

A book lies idly in her hand,- a book
of brave heroes, knights, poets, and she
stops to think and imagine how their lives
like the bright drops from the fountain in
front "A spark which upwards tends by nat-
ure's force"to live in the vivid sun's
more splendid rays, "some striving to reach
the higher point, but all after its short
twilight hour falls to earth and is buried
in its grassy couch, but like the pure drop
of water man's soul on earth is an "immortal
quest" - both at last drawn up to heaven.

### THE XIXTH CENTURY

The sound of horses feet attracted
Vizlete, and looking towards the bridle path,
she saw two gentlemen. One she recognized
as the Count de ________. She had often
seen him at the house. He came to see Mena,
and it was known that a rich young nobleman

loved Mena, and although he had not told
her his story of true love, still he be-
lieved that "they do not love who do not
tell their love". But whether his love was
returned or not, it would have been diffi-
cult to decide. Mena received his attentions
with bewitching archness. She may have
thought that "they love least that let men
know their love". Maidens are not uncon-
scious of their charms, and Mena knew how to
use her beauty and to weave a spell around a
good natured heart.

The other, Vizlete did not know. He
was an elderly man. His form was manly.

(17)

(18)

By this time they had descended from
their horses and were about to enter the
library door. Vizlete, not wishing to meet
them rose from her seat thinking it would
be pleasanter out on the cliffs. She quickly
opened another door leading through the
passage to the back door. She did not see
Baron von Germaine who had entered from the
opposite one, and in her hurry she ran
suddenly against him. He looked so stern
and angry that for a moment she stood still
and embarrassed.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?"
he asked in such a stern voice that it
frightened Vizlete, and without answering
she ran towards the door. But he caught her
by the arm, and held her so tightly that she
could not get away.

"Where are you going?" He reiterated.

"I am going out, Baron Germaine."

"Out upon the cliffs. I suspected
as much. Did I not forbid you
going there alone? The cliffs are
dangerous, and no place for a child.
You will return."

The tone of his voice thoroughly
angered her; breaking away from his hold,
she ran with all her might down the path
leading to the cliffs. But Richard soon
overtook her, and without saying a word,
he lifted her in his strong arms and held
her so tightly that it was impossible to
struggle. They reached the stairs; he
ascended, and he did not put her down until
they came to her own room. Then he merely
said:

"Promise me never to go near the
cliffs again."

"No, I will not promise. Auntie
never forbad me going to the cliffs,
and I will ---"

(19)

"Very well," he interrupted decidedly,
and bent his eyes on Vizlete so coldly that
she buried her face in her hands.

"I have a letter from Mother for you"
KMXEXXMXEXXEXXXEXXEXXMXEXX he continued,
"but you have behaved so naughtily
that I cannot give it to you."

"Oh, Baron von Germaine" (placing her
tiny white hand upon his arm and
looking so beseechingly up to his
face) "I will be good, only give me
Auntie's letter."

"You will promise me then?"

"Oh, I can't about the cliffs." Then
changing her tone--

"You have no right to keep my letter
from me."

He held it in his hand. She grasped
it and ran to the end of the room. Richard's
eyes flashed, his face flushed.

"How dare you little------"

What is a child's feeble touch to a
strong man's grasp? The letter was soon his,
and turning he took the key from the inside
and placed it on the outside and locked it.

Vizlete waited until the last sound
of his footsteps died away, and then throwing
herself upon the bed, burst into tears.

"Oh, dear! I

Oh, how I wish Auntie was at home!"

It was true Countess von Germaine
was away. She had received a letter from
her sister saying she was very ill, and that
if it was possible for her to come to her
immediately, and so it happened the Countess

(20)

was away. She had left Vizlete in the
care of Richard, knowing how Mena dis-
liked the child. Countess von Germaine
had been there but a week when her sister
died. Vizlete was so anxious to take the
letter from Richard knowing she would
write when she would be home and by what
steamer, and he would not give her the
letter. The thought roused her temper.
There were two doors in Vizlete's room,
one leading into the hall and the other
into the spare chamber. He had forgotten
to lock the other door.

Vizlete's face lighted up with joy.
Now she could escape. She was seldom
allowed to go into the spare chamber. She
slowly opened the door and peeped all
around, softly crossed the floor, and opened
the door that led into the entry and noise-
lessly went down stairs. Hurrah! she had
escaped!

The great hall door was open and
Richard was walking up and down the lawn
with the strange gentleman. Now for some
fun! Richard would never dare to lecture
her before his friend. She would run
down the other side of the lawn just so he
could see her. Her plans were interrupted
and partly accomplished by Richard's turning
and coming toward the castle. Of course he
saw her. At the same time Mena came out
upon the piazza followed by the officious
Count, a bouquet in his button hole and
twisting his moustache. He bowed to Vizlete
and said "Good Morning". Mena condescended
to say, "Vizlete, there is a letter for you
on the library table from Mother."
Maybe she thought that was a good way to
rid herself of that troublesome child, and
Mena with the assistance of the Count
stepped down the marble steps to meet her
brother.

(21)

Vizlete found the letter on the
library table. The contents were eagerly
read, and when she finished her face
changed into a happy look. Her Aunt
would sail on the steamer "Ad______"
and in a week she would be home again.
She would not be lonely then.

Just as she finished reading the
letter, the servant came to announce dinner.
Vizlete ran to her room to arrange her hair,
for it was in a very fussy condition, and
by the time she came downstairs they were
already seated. She was obliged to enter
alone. She felt the blood steal into her
cheeks as she quietly took her place beside
Richard, for she knew how he hated to have
her come in late.

As she looked up, she caught the
kind look in the old eye of the one who
sat opposite her, and answered it with a smile.
Mena looked very pretty in her light summer
dress as she entertained with becoming grace-
fulness her end of the table, Sir Linder-
walder on one side and the Count on the other
who was all politeness, all attention,
flattering her at every opportunity, and
Vizlete heard Mena say in a laughing voice
in answer to some flattering remark of his,
"Ah, Count, you would not flatter me so if
you knew the tragical fate of a flatterer."

"Ah, who could help but praise your
beauty, admire your loveliness.
Do not call it flattery."

But Mena answered:

"You cannot escape me by calling it
praise. You know what Butler said
about praise that's due, - 'does
give no more to worth than what it
had before'

The Count laughed, but he was too accustomed
to flatter, not to have a reply:

(22)

"Yet sure whene'er the praise is just
One may commend without distrust."

The conversation was here interrupted
by Vizlete's giving a little scream, and
jumping from her seat, as she did so, her
hand struck the vinegar bottle, and its
contents flowed into Richard's plate. Poor
Vizlete! forever getting into trouble!
Men's poodle had been comfortably sleeping
under the table. Vizlete had moved her
foot. It hit him and the spiteful little
poodle, thus awakened from his nap, snapped
at her foot and tried to bite her. The
adding of the vinegar had not sweetened
Richard's anger any more than it had his
food. He was the first to speak, and when
he did, it was in a stern and angry voice,

"Vizlete, you may leave the room."

Vizlete felt some one take her hand.
She knew it was Sir Linderwalder.

"Richard," he said, "it was but an
accident. Allow her to remain."

"She must leave the room," was his
only reply.

Vizlete only raised her eyes to
Sir Linderwalder to thank him, then quietly
left the room. She felt too mortified and
angry to speak, so without hat or sunshade
she fled towards the cliffs, never caring
whether she disobeyed or not. At the door
she found Anto, he followed her, and they
carefully descended the steep rocks, and
then under the shade of a large tree, she
threw herself, putting her arm around Anto's
neck.

down

The roaring fall of the water and
the deep dark pool beneath, then rushing
and xurgking foaming over and through the

(23†)

moss grown rocks; while here and there,
the delicate ferns peeping from some
crevice in the rocks, - all helped to
soothe her feelings and turn her thoughts
into a happy flow. A willow on the other
side of the brook droops its lower branches
trying to moisten its velvet leaves, and
like Tantalus, about to sip the refreshing
water, the awaying wind holds it back.
Even that morning Aeolus dried its dewy
tears, and now although it does not weep,
still its branches droop. And the wind
sweeps up towards the cliffs where the
tall pine stands. Aeolus can show his power
by waving its more slender branches but not
bending them beneath his strokes. It might
pine but never weep like the willow. Its
nature is too strong, too proud. No flinch-
ing about the pine. Let the storm break
over its head. Let the gale whirl above.
There it stood, its fine, dark robe looking
darker against the pale blue summer sky,
and the sun sparkling upon its top like a
jewelled crown.

Vizlete's head gradually sank upon
Anto's soft neck. The sun played his
shining rays in her golden hair. The soft
summer wind passed to and fro over her face,
and the long, dark lashes quietly rested on
her cheeks, for

"Sleep at length, pain's balm & care's sweet
quiet,
O'er her closed eyes displayed his brooding
wings.

Seals with oplate rod the many springs
Of thought, and in serene oblivion steeps
Her sense of grief."

(24)

## BOOK TWO

### CHAPTER 6

All boarding school girls know what a boarding school room is -- generally small, old-fashioned furniture, and although every room may be furnished alike, every room has an entirely different appearance. There is something in the arrangement of articles that characterizes the occupant; something even in the position of the chairs, but I think the bureau is the tell tale. Is the owner tasty? - it can be seen most plainly here! Also in the manner in which flowers, books or pretty fancy work brought from home or ornaments are arranged. If the owner is painfully neat, everything seems to have that straight, precise appearance, even the pin in the cushion seems to be standing erect, not one bent or leaning. Fate save me from such a woman! If jovial and careless, there is something that indicates it, - a comical picture perhaps in the frame of the looking-glass, one under the cushion. All this we observe from outward appearances. We must dive into the top drawer if we would discover the deeper feeling. You say you would be shocked. Never mind, be bold. Now find the treasure box. Every girl has a treasure box. Why do you look disappointed? Does not that torn motto, that romantic picture, such as Romeo and Juliette, Goethe's Spring Song, or the Huguenot lovers and the faded flowers suggest anything? If not, you must have been one of those painfully neat girls who would disdain to have her drawer filled with such foolish mementoes, or else some person too practical to have much imagination. It is seldom if ever you find a man or woman who has a true love of the beautiful, both in nature

(25)

and art, that has a cruel heart.

Reader, see if you can imagine the appearance of the room of the two occupants I am about to describe.

Alice, a fair-haired girl, was slender and graceful, of medium size, but at times she appeared taller than she really was, from the dignified manner of holding herself erect, accompanied by a haughty expression around the lips. This manner did not seem natural to her. She was so only before strangers, or when angry, consequently she was often thought proud and cold. She was naturally lovely. Her eyes were hazel, large with a merry twinkle in them. Her expressions mirrored her every thought. She was very thoughtful and therefore mature in her ideas. She had read a great deal, and loved study. She was only a favorite with those who knew her well. She was beautiful, not pretty. Her friend was her opposite in nearly everything: a pretty brunette, small and almost infantile in her lightness. She always wore a merry expression, was affectionate, and impulsive in her way of showing it, and a general favorite. She wore her hat turned up on one side, and had a coquish way of looking from under her hat. She had two large dimples, and this alone might have showed she was good natured, for what ill natured woman has dimples?

The clock on the landing on Madame Fabert's stairs had struck ten, and Alice and Edith, robed in white, sat on their beds dangling their slippered feet over the edge.

"I wish the girls would hurry" Edith said. "I will see if they are coming."

"Open the door carefully, Edith." her friend said.

( 26 )

But before she had reached the door a
voice answered:

"Quick, let us in! Oh! such an escape
as I have had." the girl exclaimed

"What happened, Katie?" both girls
asked.

"Oh! wait until I get breath." And
threw herself full length upon the bed.
"I had reached the bottom of the landing
when I heard a noise; I took a sly peep
over the balustrade, and who should be
coming slowly upstairs but Madame!
Oh! wasn't I frightened" she added
with true girlish emphasis."

"What did you do?" Alice asked, her
face lighting up with interest.

"Why, I slid into the pantry. I was
all doubled up, for I was afraid to
go upstairs again, they squeeked so
dreadfully. We had better be pretty
quiet to-night, girls, for Madame
has one of her bad headaches, and it isn't
likely she will sleep soundly, poor
thing."

"Let me in, it's cold," came from the
outside.

The door was opened again, and
three girls in white, muffled in shawls,
entered, prepared for the night jubilee.

"Only think! Two more weeks, and
then we will go home for the holidays!
And I suppose Alice will return with
her head full of nonsense, love, and
perhaps a diamond ring. You all know
she expects to spend her two weeks
with me, and I do not doubt she will
captivate all my beaux" Edith said,
casting a mischievous glance at Alice.

(27)

"For shame, Edith. I thought you
knew my motto."

"Your motto? Let me think."

"A speech! A speech! before we begin
our novel to-night." the girls
cried.

Alice was forced to stand in the middle of
the room.

"No, no," she said. "Let us finish
our novel tonight."

But they all persisted, and Alice began in
a semi-theatrical voice:

"Friends, Companions and Schoolgirls!
lend me your ears!
I stand here to try and convince you
That to be a 'batchozolette' is a wise
motto.
You all know "with the hour of
marriage ends the female reign"
and peace
That "love is to woman what ambition
is to man" proves
That woman must love more than man.
And is it well, gentle friends, that
Woman should love more than man?
The evil that men do can be as easily
seen in their lives as after them.
They acknowledge that they are ambitious
And if it is so, it is a grievous fault,
And grievously have men proved it.
Here under leave of you all,
(and you are honorable school girls)
I stand to try and convince you.."

"Down, Traitor, down." Edith cried.

"Back, Edith," Katie said with a
solemn face, and waving her hand in
majestic style, "methinks there is
much reason in these sayings."

Alice continued:

(28)

Alice continued:

"If you consider the right of the matter-----"

"Hush" interrupted Katie, "I hear Madame. What will we do if she finds us out?"

"Under the bed, girls. Under the bed, quick!" Alice exclaimed as she leaped to the floor, grabbed an umbrella from the closet and went flying around the room, pounding the floor in one place, and then another.

"Alice, are you crazy?" Edith whispered in a despairing voice. "Oh! what shall we do? We will certainly be discovered, you are making such a noise."

"We were discovered before I made a noise. Hurry, Katie, do you hear? You are a mouse." and she assisted her under the bed with a poke of her umbrella, perfectly undaunted at this new turn of affairs, while poor Edith stood trembling against the bed post.

"I hear and feel too." Katie replied and she disappeared under the bed.

A knock was now heard at the door.

"Take care, Edith" and without heeding the knock, Alice gave three or more taps to the floor. The knock was repeated a little louder.

"In one moment, Madame," one more tap with the umbrella, and then she carefully opened the door, leaned against the wall as if exhausted, the umbrella under her arm.

(29)

"Young ladies", Madame said sternly, "What does all this noise"mean? Why Alice, what is the matter?" she asked as she caught sight of the umbrella.

"A mouse -- I have been --- chasing -- a mouse." and Alice leaned back as if exhausted.

Madame F---- was just slipping into the room, but on hearing that a mouse was in the room, quickly drew back. Some women are very much afraid of mice, and Madame was a timid creature, and looked upon a mouse with as much horror as she would on a snake.

"I think you had better go to bed now. I am afraid this noise may awaken the other young ladies, and tomorrow I will put a trap in your room. Now go to sleep." and Madame added kindly "Good Night!"

"Good Night Madame, I do not think you will be disturbed again,"

"Alice, you are a darling." Katie said, the first to crawl from under the bed. "What would we have done but for your ingenuity? I cannot bear to think of it, but I did want to laugh, although I was dreadfully frightened. You looked so comical. Really you would make a splendid actress."

"Nonsense! But it was a shame to deceive poor Madame."

"It would have been a shame, if we had been caught."

The girls, after having a hearty laugh, over Alice and the mouse parted, leaving their novel until some other meeting.

(30)

CHAPTER VII

The girls had all gathered in the
schoolroom laughing and talking gaily
over the coming vacation. Only two more
days and they would return to their homes.

Alice and Edith were somewhat apart
from the others, sitting by their desks.
Edith was talking of her home, and giving
a description of the place, Interlaken.
Alice had been very quiet all that day,
and Edith fearing she might be ill, said:

"Why are you so quiet? You must be
ill, you have scarcely spoken today,
and you are always the one to lead
the fun."

"It makes me sad to hear you all
talking of those you love, of home,
of things I have longed for yet
never have had. I know so well what
it is to be without a home. Today
is the anniversary of my mother's
death, five years ago today, - I was
then thirteen. I was sent to a
French convent school, and you know
how that terminated, how dreadfully
I was treated the three years I
remained there, and how in despair
I left and came here, a year ago to-
day, and how kind Madame has been to
me. Is it strange, Edith, that I am
quiet and sad at times?"

Edith leaned over and kissed her.

"You must have had friends, Alice."

"Friends!" she said, "I scarcely know
the meaning of the word. While I
was at school the girls disliked me.

(31)

I was thus left to myself, and all
my time I spent in studying. I
disdained to push myself into their
fun, and I was not invited because
I was poor. We have to experience
things to know what they are. I
have never experienced that feeling.
but once since I have been old enough
to appreciate the tie of friendship,
and then it was for such a short
time --"

She left the sentence unfinished, rose,
tossed her head back haughtily, and stood
thinking a moment with her hand upon the
chair.

"I begin to think there is not such
a thing as true love in this world."

Edith had stood with wide open
eyes. She had never heard her friend talk
in such a strange way. She drew Alice's
hand within her own.

"I do not like to hear you talk so,
Alice. I love you. Do you not
believe me when I say so?"

"Yes, I believe you," Alice said,
pressing her hand.

"Sometime, Alice, will you tell me
of your past life? I have to have
some one to tell my joys and sorrows
to, some one to sympathize with me."

"That is the difference between having
friends and not having friends. But
never ask me to speak of my past life.
It is very painful to me." and Alice
abruptly left Edith's side and walked
towards the window.

(32)

The servant entered the room and informed Madame that a peddler was outside with some very pretty articles. He wanted to know if the young ladies wished any.

"No", Madame F--- replied. "I think not."

"Oh! Madame," they all exclaimed. "It is so near vacation. Please indulge us this once." And so the peddler was ushered in.

He was a young man, dressed more neatly than the ordinary run of peddlers. He wore glasses and might have been considered good looking, if it was not for his fiery red hair and moustache, for his features were well-formed. His goods were not numerous, and the girls were busy examining and buying them.

"Will the lady please accept this?" he said very politely, handing Madame a pretty little needle-case. Madame at first did not like to take the gift, but was at last persuaded, and from that time Madame had a better opinion of peddlers.

"I thank you all very much, young ladies. But I wonder if that young lady by the window would not like something."

He walked up to where Alice was standing. The young ladies had all gathered around Madame examining their purchases, so that Edith, Alice and the peddler were alone. He took from his pocket a pretty painted ribbon bookmark.

"I do not care for anything." Alice said without looking at him.

"You will not take this?"

(33)

She started at the sound of his voice, and looking inquiringly into his face, was apparently reassured by his appearance. He did not speak again.

"Yes, I will take it." She put her hand in her pocket for her purse, but before she had time to find the right change, he had gone. She ran to the door, but on reaching it, heard the front door shut.

"How strange!" she said. "Edith, will you put this bookmark with yours?"

"How nearly they are alike." and she put them in her pocket. "Come Alice, do not stand there, come up to our room."

"I will be up presently." Edith left her.

It cannot be, she soliloquized, it cannot be. But then that voice! Oh! what a day this has been for me. It has brought the dreary past so keenly before me, and that voice - it haunts me, and she pressed her aching head against the cold window pane; but I must think no more. I will go to Edith.

Edith was busy examining the bookmarks as Alice entered.

"See, how nicely they are painted, Alice," and a piece of white paper fell to the floor from the folds of the bookmark.

"Yes" Alice said indifferently, picking up the paper. "You dropped this." and she handed it to Edith.

Edith sat so long with the paper in her hand thinking, that Alice asked:

"What is it, Edith?"

(34)

Edith went to the bed where Alice
was half reclining, and put her arm gently
around her.

"this is not for me," she said, "It
is for you, but I did not know it
at first, it must have fallen from
between the folds of your bookmark
which I mistook for mine. That
man today was in disguise. I
watched him closely and your starting
when he spoke to you, and this letter
is all very mysterious to me. Oh!
Alice, why will you not confide in
me? You do not trust me. I love
you."

"And I love you, Edith, but you can-
not understand why I hate to speak
of the past, or you would not force
me, but rather help me to forget it."

Katie's voice was now heard.

"Alice and Edith, come downstairs.
You are missing some fun."

Edith left the room.

Alice held the note in one hand,
trying to read by the fading light. She
had recognized the handwriting. It ran
as follows:

"At last. I must see you. Do not
let your pride again stand between
us. You know what I have reference
to. Direct to the Post Office."

"At last". Yes, at last he has
found me, and for what good? I will not
see him, and yet -- if I refuse, he will
go to Madame F..., and that will never
do, - never! He knows I will give him
the same answer. A friend I will always

(35)

consider him, and he has been a good
friend to me, but to love him-- I could
not--

She hesitated a moment. I will see
him, but it will only be to tell him why
we must no longer see each other. But I
must write, and where shall I see him?
Ah! I have a plan. We leave on Thursday
morning on the eight o'clock train. I
will be left and take the nine. It is a
bold undertaking for a girl, but I must.
She then wrote:

"I will see you as you wish, but
if I say it must be the last time,
believe me it is not because I
would not have you for my friend,
but for other reasons which you know.
Enough now. I will see you and
explain all. Meet me at the station
Thursday morning. I am going east
on the nine o'clock train."

That is rather a cold letter to send
to a friend, but it is better so, she
thought as she folded the letter. I wish
this had not happened. What must Edith
think? I cannot tell her the truth. I
am at a loss what to do.

That night Alice said:

"Edith, you may think it strange
if I do not explain the mystery
of that letter. It was from the
son of a lady I spent many of my
holidays with while at school in
France. I liked him for he was
lively and kind to me. He thinks
I am now without friends, but it
will be best for him not to con-
tinue to be my friend. I must
subside into a quiet school teacher,
he will be a man of wealth and
position. As a child, his mother

(36)

liked me, as a woman in my position she
would pass me without recognizing me,
especially as she knows her son's feeling
towards me. She is a proud and jealous
woman. But it is late. We must go to
sleep. Good Night!"

"Good night, Alice."

But Edith did not go to sleep. She
heard the great clock on the stairs strike
the hours until morning, before she could
go to sleep.

## CHAPTER VIII
### THE HOLIDAYS.

The hoped for day had come at last.
Alice, Edith and Madame F.(who is going
to accompany the girls and remain several
days at the Square Towers) are waiting on
the platform. The train has arrived, and
as they are seating themselves, Alice ex-
claimed:

"Oh! I have left my little satchel
in the depot. I must get it."

"You will be left, Alice," Edith
said, following her to the door
and trying to detain her, "you
will be left."

"I must get my satchel" Alice said.

The train had started.

"Oh! Madame, what will Alice do?"

"I think she will come on the next
train with Rosa" (Rosa was the
servant) "That would be the only
thing for her to do now. The dear

(37)

child is so impulsive."

When the next train from the West
arrived, Alice with a quiet light-
haired German girl was stepping into
a car, when a gentleman came forward
to assist her, and lifted his hat as
he did so. It was Count -----
It happened they were the only ones in
the compartment. Alice and the Count
took the end seats, while Rosa seated
herself ahead.

"At last I have found you. I
thought I never would, and now
that I have, I do not intend to ----"

"I wish you would speak in French.
Rosa is German, Count Gaignoux."

"Count Gaignoux!" he said contemp-
uously, "so the happy days gone by
are to be forgotten, and I am to
be formally Count Gaignoux."

She saw he did not like it, that
his feelings were hurt. They had al-
ways called each other by their Christian
names."

"I will call you Harry if you would
like, only you forget that the older we
grow, the distance between us must-----"

He imagined what she was going to
say and interrupted smilingly:

"The distance is not great at present.
Nevertheless, I cannot see through
that hideous blue veil. Take it
off."

She took it off, the color coming
into her face as she felt his steady gaze.

"By Jove! you are prettier than ever."

(38)

and I love that face even better than
the girlish one," he said, lowering
his voice.

"Harry" she said earnestly, provoked by
the turn the conversation had taken,
"Is this the way to show me you are
my friend? I will not allow it. I
will leave you if you continue."

"I cannot help it - I cannot! I always
did love you. Now, there it is out
again. But I do wish you to let me be
your friend."

"You must not speak to me as you are
doing. This must be the last time
we can meet. When I tell you why I
granted this interview, you will under-
stand better why this must be our last
meeting. I trust you for you have al-
ways been kind to me and have been
worthy of my trust. I have much to
tell you, for a great deal has happened
since I last saw you, but what I have
done, I did for the best. You remember
when I was at Madame Fourneau's school
I told you I would not stay there much
longer, - she was hateful to me. I
heard of Madame and determined
to finish my last two years with her,
and then I knew I would have to earn
my own living after that, and I did
not wish to do so in the city where
all my school acquaintances lived and
they would say:
"Poor child! that is Baron-

So I left friends (as they called
themselves) and name."

(39)

"Name, Vizlete!" he said, "What do you
mean?

"Hush! I go by that name no longer. I
am Alice - now, and by such will I
teach. That is why I have seen you
today, for I was afraid you would go
to school and ask for me by that name.
I know your perseverance. But do not
look so astonished. It was all I could
do. It was best."

"Best! You did very wrong to change
your name. But it is too late to re-
medy that." He added thoughtfully:
"That accounts for my not finding you
at your school. I asked for Vizlete
- and was answered there was no one there
by that name. I had seen you the day
before in the window."

"And that is why you came disguised as
a peddler?" she asked.

After half an hour's talk, they came to - - - - -

"You must leave me at the next station."
she said, "for I do not wish you to be
with me when I meet my friends. And
you must promise never to visit me."

"Why should I leave you at the next
station?" he said, throwing himself
back in his seat, and looking provokingly
at her. Then changing his tone and
position, and looking at her with an
expression of admiration, he said:

"I will do what you wish, if you will
allow me to see you often, and give me
your promise now that when you finish
school, instead of throwing yourself
on the world, you will give me the
privilege of providing for you and
loving you. Dear Vizlete," he added
tenderly, "I love you as dearly as ever

(40)

in the days when you trusted me. You
liked me then, Vizlete. Your actions
told me so."

"Harry," she interrupted, "I cannot
allow you to continue. You know you
pain me as well as yourself by oblig-
ing me to say I love you only as a
friend, and it is impossible for me
to give you anything better."

She hastened to change the subject, but
he would not be silenced.

"By heavens!" he said. "Do you think
I love like a school boy? And that
you can silence me by changing the
subject?"

An expression of will came into his face.
The expression of a man determined to get
what he wished whether by fair means or
foul. He grasped her small hands which
were lying in her lap so tightly that it
gave her pain. She drew back from him
frightened. She had never seen such an
expression on his face before. He noted
her expression and laughed, but it was a
forced laugh. He then lessened the hold
of her hand, and leaning forward whispered:

"Don't scream, Vizlete. You are in
my power, and you shall marry me."

Alice, for so we must call her,
had forgotten herself only for a time.
Now she drew herself up haughtily and said
in a low voice:

"Harry, you forget yourself. Let my
hands go."

He let them go. But instead of
drawing them away as he expected, she
placed one gently on his, and continued:

(41)

"Such actions are unworthy of you,
and I could not forgive you did I
not know your heart, and that your
passion too often masters it and
your actions."

His face relaxed instantaneously.
An expression of sadness took its place.

"You are right. You are right. My
passion does master me. I ask your
pardon for my conduct. I am a brute.
I acknowledge it, and I thank you
for your generosity. Any other
woman would have screamed, raised a
confounded scene."

He took her hand, held it gently
a moment, then released it, threw himself
back and did not speak until they were
nearing the station. Then Alice said
gently:

"Harry, you leave me here."

"Yes, but you will tell me the name
of your friend."

"Edith ------" Vizlete said.

"Edith ------!" he said, surprised.
"I knew her. She lives at the
Square Towers. It is the next
place to that of a friend of mine,
Ralph ------, I can see you
there once?"

She hesitated a moment. Would
it be wise to see him again? His actions
today had not been gentlemanly, but then
she had forgiven that, for she knew it
had arisen from his temper. She believed
he would soon recover from his love -
most men did. And he had always been so
kind to her that she did not like to part

(42)

from him as she was doing. She turned
her face towards him as he was watching
her anxiously.

"Yes," she said. "You may once."

"Thank you" He still kept his eyes
on her. The train had stopped, and without
another word he left her.

## CHAPTER IX

It was a lovely summer morning,
and Alice and Edith were seated on the
piazza. A month had passed rapidly, for
they had enjoyed themselves, and happi-
ness was pictured on both faces. Edith
was busily working on some fancy work.
Alice had been reading, but dropped her
book to watch the varied beauty of the
scenery. The Lake lay before them, the
breeze adding to its calm beauty by
hurrying its ripples to the shore. The
tops of the trees on the surrounding
mountains stood out in bold relief against
the blue sky, and the clouds floating by
left their momentary shadows on the
sloping side. As distance throws a veil
over colors, the far away mountains seemed
but ridges of rising clouds. And all was
bathed in sunshine.

This is "a breath of God's calm" in
my life, thought Alice, as she returned to
her book. She did not utter her thoughts.
She knew Edith was no ardent admirer of
Nature, consequently she did not express
what she felt, or if she did, Edith would
playfully shake her head, or busy with her
own thoughts, she would half unconsciously
say:

> "Yes, very pretty."