Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 34, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 January 1902 — CHAPTER XX. [ARTICLE]

CHAPTER XX.

The" soft gray haze of twilight was creeping slowly upward, veiling sea and sky, and through it the Tights upon the pier at Worthing shone dim and blurred; while now and then the flash from the distant lighthouse pierced the mist, and then seemed, to die out suddenly, as if its strength had been exhausted by that effort. With the faint gray mingling of sea and sky before them, the. long chain of lights>upon the shore behind, and gay life and idleness about then?, the groups lingered—talking, reading or thinking, upon the West Pier at Brighton. Tho bandsmen were silent just now in their little raised pavilion, and the great waste of chairs "arbuntTthemwas almost unoccupied, yet there was a goodly crowd of figures moving to and fro in this evening hour. Near the pier-head, where the gloom, so subtly creeping from the water, seemed to pause, as if the light and gayety beyond had stayed it on its way inland, two little groups had met and joined, while many pairs of idle eyes rested upon them. Leaning back on her seat, facing the people, not the sea, Genevieve Foster sat, ■with a novel id her hands"; but her eyes though fixed upon its pages, had a sullen expression in them for which the novel could not be to blame. Near her, sitting sideways, ■with one elbow on the back of the seat, was Willoughby; his usually merry eyes full of perplexity, and his words breaking off every now and then in real and uncharacteristic embarrassment, as he sought to win his sister's whole attention. A few yards away, Mrs. Pennington walked slowly to and fro, leaning upon her husband’s arm, and following them came Mrs. Foster and Celia, talking cheerfully together. Will’s cycswent a little further still, to whore. Nora stood very still against the outer edge of the pier, looking out across the dusky sea with lovely, dreaming eyes. He saw that others wat.ched her, too, and he smiled a little, knowing how unconscious she was of any admiring glances; but the smile was very short-lived, and swiftly his gaze grew anxious again, and returned to his sister's face.

“You don’t help me at all, Gena,” he fretted. “I certainly expected you would feel for mother, if not for me—and yourself, and suggest some way of breaking it to her.” "If it is quite impossible for you to discuss Victoria’s prospects except in such a provokingiy funeral tone,” observed Genevieve, “pray don't discuss them at all with anybody.” “But if you tell mother without preparation ” “How terrible it would be!” put in Miss Foster, with her supercilious smile. “Victoria has chosen her own husband and married him without bridesmaids or cake! Oh, poor Willoughby, to have to break this terrible, overwhelming news to his poor mother!” “You put it kindly, I must say!” Will answered, angrily. "No wonder I dread your telling mother, if that is how you look at it.” ’ “Then how do you look at it?” she asked, in a scoffing tone; but her face grew a trifle paler as she spoke... “How do I look at it?” echoed Will, indignantly. “Why, as anyone who has a grain of feeling in him, or of honor, must look at it. She knew right from wrong, and truth from falsehood. If she didn't at first know a gentleman from a sneak, she must now have known one from an unbeliever and a liar. And if she did not know how to act as a lady, she might at any rate have behaved with ordinary womanly reserve. To think that my father’s daughter- should have joined that villain aud married him. _kt> twin's; what she must have known!” “If it has been an unwise stop,” observed Miss Foster, icily, "she will suf. fer, not you.” “I declare,” said Will, his subdued voice full of rage, “I'm tempted to think you have no heart at all. For pity’s sake leave it to me to tell my mother this miserable news! I detained you here to beg for your help and advice. I don’t want cither now.”

"Then I have done you good,” smiled Gena. "It you considered that you needed help in disclosing the fact of your sister's marriage to Dr. Armstrong, you must have been rather weak or out of sorts. lam glad you feel no longer so." “If Dr. Armstrong had courted her openly and honorably, and she had chosen to be such ail idiot as to accept him, even knowing all I know now,” fumed Will, "I would not have made any troublt for her by putting difficulties in the way. But to do as she has done; to let him show himself as the liar he is, to accept the burned-out ashes of his regard; to fly at his call; to marry him in secret, and voluntarily share his shameful and degraded reputation! Genevieve, how can you know it all, and yes be so unmoved ?” "I see it a little differently,’’ she answered, with slow distinctness. "Tory had allowed Dr. Armstrong to win her affection, even while, perhaps, he was tempted to pay court to Nora St. George’s fortune. And, now that the law has made good use of a peculiar phase of hia belief, and meanly turned it to account against him, she give* him the regard he has successfully sought, and fulfills an old.promise to marry him." "Genevieve," whispered her brother, in real surprise, and even pain, "can you really look at this disgrace as you are pretending to do? Or do you say this only in your pride? Do not fear. I am not going to seek pity from anyone. And I’m aure, if you are afraid of Norn’s fancying you are humiliated " "What has Nora to do with me at'alll" cried Miss Foster, rising quickly, with a cold, unmirthful smile. "Don't drag her name so constantly into your conversation. please. You have no idea bow wearying It is. But Ido not ask so impossible a favor as you think, so don’t look crestfallen. 1 am going away In a day or two. I am going to Parts, to an old school friend of mine, and I shall not hufc-y back. You shall take your turn now as the recipient of mauaii'a advice nmJ axmpathy, and—and senseless praise of other girls. FSy give her plenty of k Nora's- society, ft th ! Celia Pennington's,

•nd she will be content, and not at *ll sorry for my absence.” “Oh, Gena, how unjnst yon are!” cried Will; but she was strolling on now, and by a sign she bid him leave her. “How miserable It is!” he mused, as. he slowly turned, “But —yes, I dare say she will be different when she comes back from Paris. Poor mother!” With the utterance of -his mother’s name ip his thoughts came the remembrance of what only he must tell her; and with a sigh he went on to seek her—slowly, very slowly, while he wondered how he could lighten tie blow for her. His eyes wandered longingly to Nora, where she still stood looking far away, so absently and dreamily. The yoyng figure seemed very, tall and slight in its morning dress, but the short, pretty face was no longer white as the white fur that muffled it, but had regained a little of its old, soft .rose tint. (To be continued.)