Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 6, Number 35, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 26 February 1876 — Page 2

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THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

TEKRB HA DTE, FEB. 26, 1870.

THE FIRST GRAY HAUL

*Monx tho gleaming lock* of yellow. Brushed back from thy regal brow, Tber»' iiiu conic to dw«*ll a *t ranger..

To all a utrnnger until now TtSHUlIVHjOI#liViTClt«r, Willi ititllmm"r there and luiro.

There and here.

'Mid the wave* of golden Rlory Which the noble head Worn This pale xtrunger se«m« intruding,

Is intruding, wad, forloi fK Tiny tre-n of nliver hair. With It* KlimnxT iiere and there, *),, Here and there.

For thv year* are not yet many, And'thy life is still too young For a silver utrand to venture,

Venture hhinliiK

KOW

Rinon*.

Yet the atrnnu, without a Inr, Cast* ItH ulliumer there and here, There and h*re.~»

But the year will aometlme reach thee Whrii the (trn.v will crown ihy browA And the Rold will be a stranger,

Stranger than the silver now, Yellow tress will ncareely daw Glimmer here and glimmer there,

Here and there.

*®03P

Klizabeth.

1

t*

BY J. (i. v\

I.

What a singular thing is one's associations with certain places—rooms—old bits of furniture placed here and there the sweep of souio woman's drapery —an a-titude—the look of animate and inanimate rbiects alike. Wo sit in a certain room on a certain day—commonplace events ceuring, familiar voices falling upon our ears—and unconsciously the scone, tbo people, tho day and

a

hour, slip into fixed places in our moin-

Some such idea was in Dick Kendal mind when hecAmebaek to Mrs. Rogers' drawing rH)m overlooking Madison souaro, after four vears' absence. He sat in one of tho half shabby, comfortk ble chairs, trying to realize the lapse of time. It was on just such a spring evening as this he had come to say good-by. The look of tho green square and the .big white hotel beyond was the same the lace curtains swayed a little in the wind large stands of flowers were in the windows (indeed, I think it was the odor of violets this evening which suddenly revived the other.) Mrs. Rogers, stout and placid as ever, sat facing him just as she had done that evening four years ago. Tho only difference on this occasion was Elizabeth's absence. On that former evening Elizabeth had been seated in one corner of the sofa near them a slim girl of sixteen, in a white dress, with a" soft, undeveloped lace, which might turn out for good or ill looks big gray eyes with all the questicwilng sweetness of childhood in them: black lashes and delicate brows, and a profusion of reddish brown hair which she wore in those days coiled carelessly, high upon her pretty head, bound with

a pa'e yellowish ribbon. Ho remembored hut the effect she made in the shadowy corner—the whito dress, the slim ttgure, the blooming young face, and the bit of yellow in her hair. While Mrs. Rogers was talking hi? mind went back over the scene.

So you only prrived yesterday, the lady was saving in her pleasant voice. •'How good of yon to come to us at

Rut who else should I think of, Mrs. Rogers?" said Kendal with a smile. They had been his best friends always— in sadder days, when he was poor and almost alone.

That la quite true," said Mrs. Rogers, and something like a shade crossed her face. "It does not seem four years, does it? How much has happened, to bo sure 1" "Not much to me," said Kendall, half sadly. "I've wandered about the earth and come back tired of vagabondizing, ready to settle down on the old place for a while.':

Thore was a moment's pause befo«o Mrs. Rogers said, "But you do not ask for Elizabeth."

I was thinking of her," responded \the voung man quickly. "How have the tour years changed her "Not much in some ways. She is verv much of a child yet. Some people in New York call her flippant and somewhat of a flirt. She is an odd girl. Sometimes I don't know whether even I understand her rightly. With all her money and her independence, she baa beeo a great responsibility." Mrs. Rogers paused drawing a heavy breath: "She was my dearest brother's only child," she said In a moment. "I feel as If I were her mother. But Elisabeth haa not developed yet. Her engage-

D1"lHer

engagement I" echoed Kendal

almost harshly. Mrs. Rogers coughed as Don't yon remember Eugene Adnanoe?" she said. "You know BJlzabeth i»nd he have been friends from chlldhood. It is so easy to fall in lovo w!Ith "Elizabeth." she added, smiling, and

Eujrene did It three years ago but she only accepted him last year. There wu dead silence between them. Kendal be»n to realise the stretch of tlmo sinc^lbat other June. he expected to And nn his return? The ihousW Klliaboth Holland .11Ktged had never crowed his inirtd. What had he been thinking of? He was a eomewhat slow bnt very »rn««t nature. Had ho been In memory of a little girl all tlw«e years, and not recognized the, Mrs. Rogers watched him with some perplexity. He was a hamlsomemanof nearly thirty tall, broadly built wi stiS short cropped, light brown hair, kindiT sp blue eves, and a firm hand»ome moutn mod chin. His beard, tbowtk light in oilor, gave him an older, somewhat *raver air that he had when he went -.s| Sway, but In other respects he seemed to

Mm! Rostra quite unchanged.

"And

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who is Adrtance T* be said, with

a smile. .. He Is a rising roung man," site ana wered—"a jotim *ist—a

Aod then the door epeaed and Miss

Holland came Into the room. It was lit light enough for them to see each Sher clearly. iCe«dhl «*ood up, but re. Sained silent, anxlooa to take in what. J?erchange Ume mighthaTewrought to Eli*ab«th betorehe i^e. "JT tali voting womanln a wfrlts aies* w»w r»»l2ck lace aoarf about her Mok aod «m^pri£8owt»In hidn was the Wr

hoodWl T»nUb«l. J****1'** g*" this was a beauU fa ty, half spoiled child.. Mrs. Rwjljd do time to speak befcw KtWwca came forward quickly with outstretched band.

and said, still smiling, "Mr. Kendal should sav. I am so glad to see you. Whv did you alter the name? said Kendaf, taking her band cordially. "It sounded so like *auld langsyne.

Elizabeth stood still, looking up at him with welcoming eyea. "How good it seems to see you Then she gave her pretty., laugh again "Just think how you driltted out of

evorybod's knowledge all this time! We have been dead and buried—— She was going on, biit a queer look in bis face stopped her. He was thinking of other deaths and burials—this sing lar young man who had played fast and loose with what he thought hla fate.

be

Rut anyway you are going to married," iie -aid smiling. Yes," she answered softly, and very happy light came into her and then she added, "Yon have back now, end we'll forglvo you your neglect, sir."

They were at dessert when the bell rang, and in a moment a tallyountj man came into tliM dining room. Kendal saw by the quick sniilo in Miss Holland's eyesthat it was Adriance. He was a handsome man such a one as would please almost any woman from the outset with a dark, expressive face, clearly cut features, and a long brown mustache, lie paused a moment, seeing Kendai, but Mrs. Rogers hastened to make the Introduction and ho was presently seatod at Kendal's side.

And where have you been, sir? demanded Elizabeth, with a pretty little imperlousness. Adriance laughed.

I've been outwf town," ho said, care-

*e,t Since yesterday!" she said reproachfully. "I thought you were lost. And where did you go?"

Where did I go?" he said, laughing. "Mrs. Rogers, isn't this tyranny? To Ex ford, on business."

I'll 'book it,'" said Elizabeth laugh intr Then sho turned to Kendal to ex plain the allusion to a character in a popular play. Adriance began to talk of European theatres to Ivendal. The conversation was continued pleasantly when the all went up into the drawing room. Miss Holland's uncle came in, but there was no break in the pleasant chat which made them nil seem harmonious and friendly at once. It was so natural and yet so strango to Kendal. Elizabeth went and sat down in the same shadowy corner of the sofa, and it seemed to him as if the four yeare must have been a dream. Rut Adriance was a now element, and might bo discordant. Kendal was forced to own him an agreeable cultivated young man, and there was no doubt it was a love match but he could not help feeling a

strange sense

of regret in tho whole affair. Do you sing now said Kendal to Elizibcth. "You used to have a sweet voice as a little girl."

Indeed she sings," said old Mr. IIol land fondly. "Elizabeth has turned into a nightingale, Kendal."

Have you any ff your little old German songs?"said Dick. Yes," said Elizabeth, standing up irresoluto a moment. She took a wax light from the mantel and went over, placing it on the piano.

What shall I sing?" she said, sitting down with her hands idly folded on her white dress. Kendal looked at her with a sudden thrill of pain, of regret she mado a protty picture, »rved against the shadows at the end of the room. Her young lace, with the light falling tenderly upon it, was flushed faintly. Adrianco was watching her with an abstracted air. No one spoke, and Elizabeth began one of Schubert's melodies. It was a strange, sad song of parting, broken vows, a desolate but quiet heart. There was Just that pathetic cadence in the girl's voice which was needed to give tho words all their antbor's subtle, tender meaning. Mr. Holland spoke of her as a nightingale. Kedal could think of no comparison. Her voioe seemed the only sound which oould have carried the words into his heart. It bad affected Adriance strangely. Ho rose ana walked over to the window, where he stood looking out. When she bad tinished singing, Elisabeth seemed quite to forget them all but Adrlanoe. She rose and w*nt over to her lover.

What is the mstter, Eugene?" she said, quietly putting her hand upon his arm. He lookod down at her with a faint smile.

I do not think I like that song, my dear," be said gentlv. "It is very prettv, von know, but I don't think it suits oie."

Then I will never s'.ng it attain," said Elizabeth, with sweet look In her uplifted eyes. "But do you know.lt was from my very heart depths tonight."

Adriance smiled carelessly, as If to dismiss the subject and they joined the circle sgain. No one had heard their conversation. Kendal and Adriance fell Into an easy talk about French matters, and Dick felt himself strangely interested in the young man. There was a AwcJnation about him not without Its effect even upon a man of Kendal's experience a magetic power which went quite beyond his youtnfhl good looks in attraction, but withal just a touch of weakness, which might be the affectation of youth and easily outgrown.

Elicabeth sat down again upon the an ft joining gayly, brtgntly In the conr«r5$ono?l£J«kt. Kendal thought he watched her tie oould understand How stranger* mistook her manners for fllDoancy. her little ah- of loftiness for

which made tor »U woifift happiness henbjr divine' yffrjjfg doubted the exlafpoe of evif becawe she had never wywteaeed Jt^ of troubles, lismi—a ska had known of

"pwunfly Kendal slood np toleav^ •orry to diofwl the pleasant influence of tfceenretrioft.

You muit

OMDO

smiling half to knew her." I think sometimes slje. -w woman to live," said Adriame iiiipulsively. "I don't quite understand her though myself, I an* ***3? to*

a

face come

And then the dinner was announced, and Kendal went in with the two ladies to tho pretty dining room ho knew so well. Mrs. Rogers and her niece lived quite alone here, except for the occasional visits of friends or relatives, the elder ladv beini? a widow and Miss Holland an* heiress and an orphan. Her guardian was a good natured, somewhat indolent, old uncle, who loft her to her own devices. She was in a fair way being spoiled, having had her will ua disputed all her life, and there was jet little air of superiority about her wnion Kendall fancied ho remomtered in the old Elizabeth. Fie was greatly interested In watching fof changes or developments in her. She had not very much to say at dinner, but she gave him the impression of radiant, hopeful youth and conscious hxppinefes. first warmth of her greeting^ subsided she relapsed into a quiet but interested manner, asking questions about his travels, smiling soitly when he spoke ol her own fortunes, and now and then giving him society news, showing him how much interest she took in the life of gayety and fashion she lod.

her fandes tiiotit life and things in gen-

t- II. What were Elizabeth's fiinoies? She was supremely, radiantly happy. She and Eugene had known each other always, and after a round ot fashionable gayeties she had wisoly accented his love and givon him her whole heart. She could not have given you any reason for her happiness, buoyancy in thopo days. Kendal used to wonder if it was all her youth, her natnr,?. She affected him like the first sweet breath of spring. The scent of early violets— the faintest touch of summer on tbe land. Her life was a busy, idle one To her it was sometimes, very rarely, a little unsatisfactory, but there was the wide, boundless future stretehlng out betore here. Why look for nioro than the joy of the present Kendal used to go to tho old fashioned house on Madison square at all hours of the day and evening. Gradually he and Elizabeth fell into tho old confidential strain which had made him know her so well as a child. It seemed to him as if the girl, knowing littlo of life, know also little of herself. To Adrianco she seemed to turn an anchorage, guide, Instructor. She gave Kendal her confidence, and he returned her his quiet, half unspoken sympathy and comprehension. Date as it was in the season, there were certain pleasures to b« taken out of the city life before they left town. Kontlal would go'on a morning and find Miss Holland in her riding dress waiting far Adrianco to go to the park. In the evenings they made gay parties hero and tljore, listened to Beethoven or .Strauss at Thomas's, called upon friends, or entertained at home. Mrs. Rogers had lunch parties, yachting excursions— somfthinar always on hand. Kendal made quite a sensation among Elizabeth's young lady friends, with his fine eyes and magnificent demeanor but I think 1)0 liked boat tho hours when he found only Adriance or a certain Miss Rogers, a cousin of the family, with Elizabeth.

One morning he found them all prac

It is very pretty, and suits my voice exactly," said Adriance, carelessly laying down the music. "Then I will sing a solo, Miss Rogers, will you play 'M' Appari?"' "Quand on a vingt ans," said Elizabeth when the song was ended. "Is it not true—the age for everything—love, happiness, sunshine."

Ad nance's good humor was restored completely. "You have it all, Elizabeth," lie said smiling and then for some strange reason he moved away as ho met Kendal's quiet glance.

The rooms were crowded when Mrs. Rogers's party appeared at Mrs. St. John's. It was an oddly designed house. There was a wide staircase and broad corridor leading to tho drawing rooms, and there were little ante chambers off the larger rooms, with colored draperies the swing of a yellow curtain in one gave a pretty tinge of color to the old dark furniture. There wore easels throughout the rooms, liero and there, signs of Mrs. St. John's profession as an artist. Elizabeth tried to escapo from the circle of her admirers to show Kendal some of the art treasures tho bouse contained. She took his arm presently, and they went away into a side room where somo new pictures were b.ng. Elizabeth felt herself in a strango, uncertain sort of mood. She sat down somewhat wearily in one of the deep blue chairs which gave such pretty effect to tho room. What was in her mind She felt as if the easy current of life had been some way troubledbroken In upon. Kendal had moved aside a curtain and disclosed a picture on an easel which riveted his attention.

What is that?" said Elizabeth, moving forward. It must be Romola," he answered. "Yes, yes of course it is."

She was represented sitting in her tether's library. The quaint dark furni ture which the artist nad included in the scene formed a beautiful background for her figure in Its soft gray dress. Her hand* were clasped listlessly her hair, strangely like Elizabeth's in tint, was flowing carelessly upon her shoulders. Her eyes, full of a pathetic hopelessness, were turned upon the op«n window. Without was a bit of blue sky and some soft green foliage.

I could imagine," said Kendal, as Elizabeth stood gazing upon the picture, "that some day If you had much trouble and great disappointment, vou know,your fac*,Elizabeth, would lie like this Romola's. There is the same intensity in your expression, undeveloped as yet. "I hope," he added smiling, "it may always remain so."

Elizabeth turnod her eyes upon him as he spoke, and Kendal fancied he Raw tears rising to them.

Romola is one of my beloved once," she said softly. "I don know why it is, but this picture afftcts me strangelv. I feel as if I were looking at a scone in tnv own future."

MI

to us to-morrow,

Jl BBsabeOi tbey said good-by. «H Ml are only to be In town tort night, we moat make the meat of jron.

AdHance want awav with him, and Che two mea inlM clown to the Osntory, Kendal's old dob. *•&» that is KKmbetiij^ Kendal said.

the

TERKK HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL-

"I soaroely

of

don't believe I am to have any log. ...

of that day, audit always suggested lllao blossoms and their delioate perfume.

Life comes in chances,'1 Kendal said, stopping in his walk to lean over a high back chair in front of Elisabeth, "and It seems to me what constitutes our misery is that we let those chances go by— sometimes blindly, sometimes foolishly. The weakness in human nature is a hard thing to contemplate yet we often call it strength."

To E Izabeth his careless eloquence seemed a fascination too powerful to re sist Sho sat still, listening with hereyes full of interest and light.

Ro-nola believed In Tito. She gave him all the trust and love or h»r nature," he went on. "That was blind, perhaps, but out of it grew tl»e strength, the perfection of her nature. Disappointment, you see, is such a powerful developer of greatness, or of weakness either."

Hut might not her nature have been perfected without disappointment?' said Elizabeth timidly. She was half afraid of her own voice. She liked best to hear Kandal talk. She was beginning to think vaguely her own life might have developed bettor her aims, aspirations, been lifted with a loftier

P°,rffTi*to

had been different," he said,

smiliH?. "Such a nature as Romola's needed^ a strong anchorage He jailed her Sho was one who could not put out her hand twice. She was forced to be sustained afterward by tho strength of her own nature."

They wen* silent a moment, LnconsciouBly Kendal's last words were becoming indelibly impressed upon Elizabeth's mind. "She was. not one who could put out her fcand twice. She was forced to be sustained afterward ,by the strength of her own nature." What was strength? Weakness. Had her life been purposeless? Elizabeth sat quite still a moment, full of perplexing thoughts. Then, as she was about to speak, tho sound of a clear woman voico reached them from the inner room. Somo one was singing the sounds floated out to them like a myste rious unknown voice. Tho song was ho one Elizabeth had sttng the night of Kendal's return. The voico was a sweet ore more cultivated, richer than Elizabeth's, bnt Kendal thought it unequal to hers. They listened, and as it ended

une luunmiK iwuuw vnv,... «*4. tisinir in a littlo room devoted to music. Elizabeth snitieu. He heard the voices and went in unan- I am glad Eugene did not hear it,nounced. Miss Rogers was playing, she said, "Let us go in and ..i oin»'mr* iaointvin Adriance and Elizabeth wero singing

A l'age do vingtans!" That was the refrain it was a pretty song. Adrianco had a clear, self-satisfied sort of voi e. "L'age do l'amour—l'age de vingt ana," he was singinir as Kendal came in. Suddenly Elizabeth moved away.

is singing." The singer was yet- at tho piano, and both Kendal and Elizabeth were surprised they had not noticed her before. She was a girl of about twenty, with a very singular face. It was not beautiful, yet it possessed a fascination peculiarly its own, quite apart from features or coloring. Sho was rather pale the outline of her face delicate its expression wistful or absorbed. The eyes

What is the matter?' said Adriance, verv much annoyed. "Don't you know?" cried Elizabeth, with an appealing look at Kendal. I feiriike somereai inusic to-day. That were a deep, changeful blue, and to liiiinoiMoiin iiiisnt,isf'ar torv." them little air is so unsatisfactory.

them and certain sweet curves of the mouth and chin the face seemed to owe its charm. The hair was pale goldm, and worn in a loose coil low upon her well-shaped bead. The girl was very simply dressed in some gauzy black materia1, with some scarlet llowers in her dress and ft touch ol tho same in her

ba"She

They were to go that afternoon to a TheV were to BO mat aiteruwuM va a reception in an old house a littlo out of the infectious. n«uence of I^beth

town. When Kendal called he found Mrs. Rogers and her nieces lamenting Adriance's absence. IIo had written a line to say he would meet them after Mrs. St. John's reception. It was all he csuld do.

is Mrs. Phillips's governess,"

whispered Mrs. St. John when Eliza-bf-th asked to be introduced-"a young Russian girl, Mile. Cravorme."

Elizabeth found her a very pleasant companion. Tbo wilfulness in her face died away as sho talked. I think it was

own bright, girlish manner. Miss Holland found herself suddenly drawn to this lonelv voung stranger. There seemed an odd bond of sympathy bo tween them. Adriance, she thought, would have laughed at it for one of her impulsive fancies. She was delighted to hear she was living at Milton-on theHudson, where Mrs. Rogers passed her summers, and promised when they went up there to go and see lier.

Do not forget," said Mile. Cravorme, fixing her dark eyes upon Elizabeth's careless young lace. "I have so few friends."

When they were coming away the depression which bad wearied her earlier In tho day returned to Elizabeth. What was coming over her? sho thought, as they rode home in the spring twilight. Mrs. Rogers chatted away with Kendal and her niece Fanny about the reception, the odd young Russian girl. "Her eyes startled me," sho said with a shiver. "Perhaps she is is a runaway countess."

Countesses arc not compelled to live at home," said Fanny Rogers. It was dusk when they reached Madison square. Adriance was standing in the drawing room window waiting fer them a little impatiently. Elizabeth hurried in, aud preceded them all up the staircase, her pale silk gleaming in the dusk—her face, perplexed, anxious. "Oh, Eugeno!" she said, coming In with something like a suppressed sob, •'I am so glad to see you. I felt horribly to-day."

She was certainly unnerved. She turned aside and tried to bide her tearp. What is the matter, Elizabeth?" said Adriance wonderiugly, and putting his arm about her waist. "Are you ill? You are so unlike yourself."

I don't know what it is," said Elizabeth, smiling through her tears. "Do vou know, dear, I nad queer presentiments to-dajf." She put her hands upon his shoulders and looked earnestly into his face. "I was tired, perhaps, but I began to have mid fkncles. I—"

You should not let your mind go on in that way," he said gravely. "What did you think could happen ?-1

Iong afterward the day and hour were to return to Adriance the long pretty room with whose objects he had become so pleasantly familiar the open doorwavs, the poplo coming lolsurely op the staircase, talking and laughing brightly the ftlut odor of violets ID Elizabeth's dress. Elizabeth trembled a little as he held her in his arms. Kendal bad talked of fate, ol destiny, of life coming to us all In chances. What had he done—taken bis fate Into bis own hands wisely or foolishly

Kendal shook his head. "No, no," he said quickly "let us hope not you are a A a E a a paused a moment, wnlle Elizabeth sat with a suille. down again with her eyes still upon the Jor oleture. "life holds a great deal for u» slowly. I have to go to ,J all," be went on. "I think a great deal morrow on busln^lor The^n.^^t of what we call fate Is In our own hands To Mexico! we In a measure arbitrate our destinies wore all In the room by tbteUme. She and we are bound to d« our best. We looked around to them appeal!ngly ^y thai we are fated, but It seems to me It will only be fo.^two month,'f ..here It Is not our own doing, It Is all a wont on. J^end^ FU look tcjpou to matter of apidal Providence?" L«ke can of Klixabetb," he added *mU-

It is all right," said Elizsbeth, moving away. "I think I most be a great little goooe," abe added, looking at him

more—destiny," said Elisabeth with a Elisabeth used later to tbink of tbat smile. "Everything haa come so far as evening In a a matter of course. I say everything, When hSn

rlence I have had. Some jpeople seem to live In to-morrow, to-day."

I mm* ooijtb. WU. btoofwp. life

My flfe

Pto

Ik.,

all of Sowing more real? lesaw imaginative dream of happiness? Could aoe tell?

Kendal had risen, and wm walking upj Hbe mt down for some time Intbe win* and down tbe room slowly. Through dow. It

open windows came the spring aim and sunshine, full of the scent of lilacs, earn* out In fttll clear view. To EllziSorite people were laughing and talking both they mvtvlri tb* taniens. A thrill *f sum- monies, new hopea, asfrfratiom. Some mer&ne and gladness «*m«d in the dtaoord seemed to have Ikllen upon her 3r SSarwanl Ellmbeth used to think life, bat bettor Instincts In her nature

seemed aroused, nefr aims born of tbem. The divine radiance of the heavens seemed to fill her heart and 'aonl. Had it been her talk with Kendal Had be anything to do with it? I think abe realized nothing clearly In tboae days but the existence of something new and strange in her lifo'a meaning. Dividing lines seemed to be drawn—the horizon wider, yet more clearly discernible. She was beginning intshgibly to feel that she bad a higher nature, and to analyse its possibilities—and bow would it end

in.

There was a pretty sitting room in Mrs. Rogers' house at Milton devoted almost exclusively to Miss Holland. One day early iu July she showed its many points of interest to Kendal. "You turn into a Lady Bountiful up here," he said smiling, as ho caught sight of her account books. "Where did you learn vour usefulness and charity, EHzabeth "It is very recent," said Elisabeth with a blush. "I have had an unprofitable life I fear" And then an interruption came In the shape of Miss Cravorme. She was at liberty to come at once to Miss Holland's little room. Elizabeth was beginning to know her well, and had decided to tell her of her engagement, which was kept a secret from the gossip-loving Milton folk. While Miss Craverme was laying aside her things, and talking to Mrs. Rogors, Elizabeth turned to Kendal. "I heard from Eugene to-day," she whispered, "lie will be home nextwoek."

How is it that impressions reach us? that conjecture is suddenly a certainty? Elizabeth was standing in tho deep embrasure of the window, her head partially downbent, thagreen vines outside flecked with sunshine, a background for her wavy hair, her pretty girlish fig ure, and Kendal looking at ner, knew in that moment he must come to her no more.

Mr. Kendal, Miss Cravorme. I believe you know Mr. Kendal?" said Mrs. Rogers. Mr. Kendal bowed absently, and Miss Cravormo gave bim a friendly greeting.

It is coming on rain," ho said, holding out his hand to Mrs. Rogers, must bo off." Then ho turned to Elizabeth, aud tbey two were a moment apart from tbe others.

I have, something to say to you," he said in a low hard voice. "Do not think it strange, Elizabeth, if you do not see me often. I have many occupations. If you need me in any way, send to me God bless you

He put out his hand, and she laid hers wonderinjrly within it. Was she to lose siuhtofhim in this way—her best friend? A sharp pang shot through tbe girl's heart. He wrung her hand and was gone before she could speak. "Of course you must stay," said Elizabeth to Mile.'Cravorme. "This is a wild storm." The two girls were in a room prepared for the guest. Elizabeth had ordered a lire kindlsd. Tbe storm had brought a chill in tbe air. Mile. Cravorme turned aside from tho window somewhat wearily.

My de8r," said Elizabeth, putting her ann suddonly about tho girl's waist, "do vou know, for some time I hav thought you had a trouble on your mind?N If it would do you any good, will you tell me about it?"

Marie Cravorme drew back a little, startled. What was there in Miss Holland's gentle voice, in the tenderness of her eves? The other woman could not resist it. She looked at her a moment, and then sat down and burst into tears.

Yes," she said, as Elizabeth knelt beside her. "I will tell you. I feel so sad, so alone here! It comes back to mo sometimes. Miss Holland, do we women ever forget if we have loved!" Elizabeth looked up with surprise. "It is a strango story," said the young Russian bitterly. They sat silently a moment, then she continued: "It was a year ago. I had just arrived in this country. I was teaching in a family In Exford. The house was full of company. Among the rest came a young man, friend of the son of my employers. How can I tell you, mademoiselle? It was not because of my youth. I am older, wiser now, yet it is the same. We loved each other." She paused a moment, locking lior hands together. "When I think of that time, its sweetness, I fee', as if I could live out an eternity on the recollection. The night before he left he oonfessed his love. How well I remember it." She smiled sadly. "I had been singing a little song of Schubert's —a farewell. My very heart was on my lips. He could not resist speaking. For one brief hour wo were kappv. Then hesaid good-by for ever."

Elizabeth had moved away a little. She sat in the dull glow of the fire. Marie continued:

He oould not marry me. He was bound to another woman—who she was he forbade me to ask. Sometimes," the girl added in a dull voice, "I have felt as If in that hour my heart broke. What does a broken beart moan, mademoiselle Is it not when life ceases to bold any happiness for ua? The heart beats, it exists, but it does not live." "And you have never seen him since?" said Elicabeth, gently. "Once," said Marie wearily. "He came to Exford In tbe spring justbefore I left. He Is far enough away now," she added s#nl!instly—"in Mexico

Mexico 1" said Elizabeth. She stood up and leaned heavily against the mantel the other's face was downbent, ab­

Who was he?" said Elizabeth in a low voice. Mademoiselle Cravorme spoke as from a revelry. "His name is Adriance." she said slowly—"Eugene Adriance.'

To Elizabeth it seemed as if a wild dro.tm was upon her. She stood still her whole frame deadened, numbed by the words to which she had just listened. Afterward she thought that time might have been measured best by hours Instead of momenta. What could she do what could she say? The dull red of tho fire showed her Marie's face, cold and passionless days' scene* In the old happy time seemod to rush back. She seemed to feel Eugene standing beside her, speaking to her.

He will be married soon," said Marie, not moving ber eyes from the Are. "Then—oh, what am I to do? Listen to me, mademoiselle. I have thought of the day when my love for him. or bis for me, might be a sin. Sometimes I think of ber. She has so much I bad nothing In all the wide world but his love!"

I have seen Mr. Adriance in society, mid Kllxtbeth, forcing herself to be calm. "I have alao seen the yonng lady to whom he la—waa engaged.

Have you seen her cried Marie. "What fa she like? I hear tbatsheis very beautiful, rich, and sorrouuded by admiran—aomuehha told^me.

Tea." said Elisabeth, with a melancholy imlle. "She is very rich, and tbe bm hid nuMi* lonm but I do no* think you would envy her if you knew her

There was a moment's silence between them. Gradually the port was taking shape In Elisabeth's mind. ^Yahould like to see her," aaid Marie loftljr. ••She must be a very happy wo-

m"8he

seems wrecked," said Elizabeth absently. "But let me tell you one thing, my dear, she will never marry Mr. Adrfance." She gave an odd jarring little laugh. "People in New York have called her a flirt. Perhaps thoy are right, for I am sure, very sure, she means to break her engagement. Good night, mademoiselle."

Is it true?" cried Marie, catching her arms passionately. Tbey looked at each other silently an instant. "You do not know what this is to me!" Marie went' on hurriedly, "Oh, if I could only know her, see her, and tell her what Ills love had been to me."

The strangeness of the scene came over Elizabeth even then. She felt as it sho would see Marie Cravorme no more. She put her hand gently on her arm: "f am sure it will be "all right, my dear," she said quietly. "Let me give you one word of council. It Adri- 3 ance returns to you, never talk to hint —of her."

Absorbed in the dim prospect of happiness, Marie turned suddenly away and went over to the window, where she stood motionless. Elizabeth, with a cold smile, watched her a moment in silence. Then she went away slowly to her own room. Sho sat down to try and resolve upon some course to pursue. Suddenly all youth, all childishness seemed to have lelt her she wondered at her own calm—never had sho been so cold, so* still. She went back slowly over the days of her engagement, and gradually as the hours wont on she saw where she had Idealized the love Adriance had offered her. She had believed in him so utterly! And he seemed So true! She pu- her face down into her hands, not weeping, but trembling with a sort of horror of his deception—her blindness! What had he meant? what had he believed ber nature? A storm of indignation at one moment rose up within her, but grief, heart-sickness, was predominant. After what fashion bad he dono those other lovo scenes! Good, heavens, that she should have lavished the tenderness of her nature upon a man who spoko of lovo to another woman, calling himself wretched because he as bound to her! She was thankful for the still hours of the nig.it to think it over. What had sho done to be so deceived? Should she go into tho next room, tell Mario tho whole story, and give her back her lover? And then came tho remembrance of tho girl's white, sad face, the pathos in her voice, the despair with which she told her simplestory. Had Kendal guessed it? Why had ho offered ber advice, help?

It was after daybreak when Miss Holland sat down writing a few lines in a steady hand:

I will come in town, Eugene, to meet you. Will you call at Madison square as soon as you arrive? I send this to jour club. E. H." sW

IV.

It was lato on a July afternoon when Mr. Adrianco found himself in tho drawing room at Madison square. Tho dreariness of the day and the long silent room oppressed him. Why should Elizabeth keep him so long waiting? Did she not remember punctuality was He was in the midst of these reflections when the door at tho lower end of tho room, opened slowly, and he saw Miss Holland advancing. Adrianco's instincts were not over quick, but ho detected a change in tho girl at ouco. He had been, used to her joyful, eager greeting. Was, this pale, cold looking woman tho Elizabeth of those spring days? He moved forward oxtonding both his hands. "So you are at home again," sho said slowlv, not noticing his gesture.

Elizabeth," he exclaimed reproachfully. They wero silent for a moment. Elizabeth sat down, resting her head upon her hand. Suddenly she turned her eyes upon him. "I have been in Milton,' sho said, all the light ring gone from her voice. "I. have just left Marie Cravorme!" Ho mado a sudden movement forward—an attempt to speak. The effort failed, and Elizabeth went on coldly

I know all the story of your Exford days. Sho told It to 'me. I wonder," she added, with a cold little smile, "why I was so blind." Shu paused, turning hereyes sadly away from him. Ilo was looking at her aumb with amazement. Suddenly he seemed so ftr removed from her—from her and from her life— and yet, as they thus faced each other, Elizabeth seom'ed to gain an impression of all those days of transient happiness, of love the very words he used to uso^ to her came back all seemed te stretch out, filling her heart with a strango yearning from across tho gulf fate had. made between them. She realized even. then, though vaguely, that her ideal lover had been a different being from the man before her. Her dream had been beautiful. Beautiful? God knew how she bad cherished it but it was gone forever. And then the sharpness of her suffering rose again and seemed to smite her with a sudden pain.

Eugene!" she cried out passionately, "why were vou so cruel? Why did you not tell me Why did you ever try to win my love? It is all gone now, but you have taken from me what I can never have again!"

Elizabeth I" be said, and even in her misery she saw that be waa struggling with emotion. "Elizabeth, when I asked you to marry me I thought I loved you. When I mot Marie——"

He paused. The wave of excltementf bad passed. Miss Holland was calm and cold again.

Why had you not the courage to tell me?" she said wearily. "Did you think I would be happier never knowing it It is the difference between man and woman?" She folt herself strangely and for the first time immeasurably above him in strength, in earnestness. A pltv for his weakness which she was only now realizfng made her tako the nnal words of parting upon herself. Sho sto»d up, holding out her hand.

Good by, Eugene," she said slowly.^ "You will be happy enough, doubtless, but one thing, do not tell your wife of—*r

m&e°8tod

MV

Is a woman who* happlncm

a moment Irresolute. With

the contradictoriness of his nature, ho felt that he could not let her go. In Home way he began to understand the depth and strength of her nature and what he had flung away out of his life. She had never seemed to him so womanly, so tender. Come what would^ he would carrv away a lifelong memory of her silent figure, her beautiful face, with the light of some new grace, some womanly development touching it gently.

::t

"Elizabeth!" he cried earnestly, puH ting out his hands. "Are we to say good' bye in thla fashion?" She was still looking at him, and h« now saw that tei*rs ware running down h6r chock*. "Yes," she said slowly. "We aw to-

good by now and for ever.'' He took ner hand, and In a blind Impulse raised it to hla llpa» than, without another word, turned and left the room.

Elisabeth Holland aat down before the vacant flreplace, calm and atlll. Would life ever change for ber? Would she ever grow into forgetfulneaa? As she sat there a man beneath the window began to play slowly, "Robert-Robert! tot que J'alme!" I think it was a blessed interruption. Elizabetn threw ber[Cbndudcd ou Third Page.] i,»