The Story-Teller.

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 8, 29 December 1869, Page 7

The Story-Teller.

THE SISTERS. ( Continued.) JANE'P'ftrouml her hod into the road, paused a second, and then tore open the note Her eye ran hastily over the contents, and she re jdAJ° the end, but the first words “ pisie, dear Elsie,” it ran, “ forgive mo if I offend by thus addressing you, but I 7 hardly know what I write. I can bear this no-longer. I love you, deeply, truly, and had (jine day thought to call you my wife j but t cannot understand the change that has come over you dunng the last three weeks. Have I offended you in any way ? . May I plead my own cause this evening ? I hjve ventured to send you some flowers, though the last were so lightly esteemed, ft Bring them, if I may hope j but at all B. events give mo the first valso to hear my I sentence from your own lips.—Ever yours, B Edmund Roscoe. And this was to Elsie ! Then this even ing would see her the affianced bride of Edmund Roscoe, the future mistress of the Elms, and the wife of the richest baronet in the county. Never, never! Janet tore the note to pieces, and turned to go homo Elsie met her as she crossed the hall, and her eye fell on the flowers with 1 a sharp heart-pang. “ From Mr Roscoe,” said Janet, coolly, answering her gaze, “ for the ball to-night, but I shan’t take them. They are a great, trouble, and far too good to wither in that hot room. I’ll give him an extra danco to make up for it,” she said, and passed on to her room. The ball had not begun when they entered the fast filling room, and all eyes ! turned on Janet, as in her queenly heanty she moved up the room, A bright flush • was on her cheek, and her large dark eyes {were unusually brilliant; but Edmund P Roscoe saw it not. His eye was on the p Je, quiet face of her younger sister, and his heart sank within him ns he saw that his flowers were not in her hand. A wild hitter pang ran through him, and unable to control his feelings, ho hastily left ! the room. Passing quickly into the large, dimlylighted conservatory, Edmund Roscoethrew himself on a seat, and buried his face in his r J|hnds. Was it all true that Janet had 11 hinted ? Did Elsie love another ? When I) he recalled the frank, happy glances she Bjn id given him before this miserable change, Kim groaned aloud. ■ “ Pool that I was,” said he, “ not to see [ that she did not love mo. But who could help loving that sweet childish face and gmitle manner ? I will at least hear from her own lips that it is hopeless.” H« waited to regain his composure, and re-entered the ball-room. The dancing 1 Wn l begun, but, as it was only a quadrille, hi net and Elsie were neither of them dancing: they were standing surrounded by g-nllemen, who were writing their engagem mts on their cards as they made them. Pale and grave, Mr Roscoe approached | them, and gaining Elsie’s side, said, in a j Jmv, quick voice, “ May I have the first valse, Miss Fraser ?” His voice was cold and hard, for, with all his efforts, he could not mako it otherwise, and Elsie’s was equally so, as she replied, all unconsciously, “ I am soiry I am cni gaged, Mr Roscoe.” ! He merely bowed, and Elsie’s beating } heart sank as lie turned away in silence, asking for none other, little knowing the agony of disappointed love and wounded ~ pride that he suffered at her words. Janet tapped him lightly with her fan, as he passed her. “ Mr Roscoe,” she exclaimed gaily, “ are | you deserting all your old friends ? I have 1 saved some dances for you. Which will you have ?” He took her card, and ran his eye down it, and marking his name in two or three places, returned it without a word ; but Janet knew too well what was passing in | his mind to be surprised at that. He was H once more leaving the room, when Lady Roscoe laid her hand on his arm. “ My dear Edmund,” she exclaimed, “.why are you net dancing? There is |||Lady Chester sitting down, and Lady Brar ,'vjtherston. Pray go and ask them.” fcp He turned with an impatient exclamation, ||and approached Lady Chester ; but after ppihat he did not seek to desert the hall, with one, and then with another, never still, never pausing to think, but talking, laughing, and dancing, with a dreamy, unJ| Veal sense ot some great trouble upon him. r Now and then he caught sight of that pale, sweet face, a slight flush tinging the delicate B dieek, asj she floated past—gentle, quiet, grave 1 , though more sought after than ever she lad been before. “ She does not care,” he thought, as he watched her smiling at some speech of her partner’s, little guessing the bliss she had just missed. “She will deceive other men with that sweet voice and innocent smile, and then throw them aside as she has mo ; . but I’ll show her I’m not broken-hearted.” He talked and laughed again, and bent I over his partner, as though no happier man L existed. With Janet he danced again and again, till even he felt the powerful fascina- , f..,ier loveliness, and found it perfectly say soft nothings with those lus-

trons eyes lifted to his, and that beautiful mouth wearing its sweetest smile. He sal by her in the conservatory, on the very seat that had seen his first agony of disappointment, and heated with excitement, and the freely-flowing champagne, his eye rested with undisguised admiration on the perfect figure, the well-formed features, and the soft, dark eyes of the lovely girl before him. Her heart boat high as she saw the look, and a glow of triumph pervaded her system. “ What a happy man you must be, Mr Roscoe 1” she said, softly, her voice hearing the slightest touch of sadness ; “ young, rich, and beloved, heir to this beautiful place, and free to chose a wife from all around you.” lie started, and a hot flush mounted to his brow, as he exclaimed, bitterly, “Not quite that, Miss Fraser. There are two sides to that question.” Janet bout her head over her hand as she played with the fastenings of her gloves, and, with downcast eye and heightened colour, murmured softly, “Oh no, Mr Roscoo. I cannot but believe that you can win any heart you tried—sometimes, alas ! those that you neither tried nor cared for and her voice trembled and sank. Edmund Roscoe looked at her in surprise. He was no fop, and did not understand the drift of her speech ; but he saw that she seemed very much agitated. “ What do you mean ?” he asked, quickly. “ When have I done so ?” Janet turned her face away, and shook her head. “ I cannot tell yon. I have said too much already,” -she exclaimed, hurriedlv ; then turning to him, and lifting her eyes pleadingly to his face, she added, “ Oh, Mr Roscoe, pray forget what I have said. Do not despise me for having betrayed rny feelings ; say you do not, or I shall hate myself.” lie paused in surprise and bewilderment, for her real meaning flashed across him. “ Miss Fraser,” he said, and the words came out with a sharp, hasty jerk, “do you mean you —you love me.” Janet covered her face with her hands, while a deep crimson mounted to the very roots of her hair, and spread even over her neck. Mr Roscoo remained silent. He did not understand his own feelings. Surprise both at the fact and the avowal completely bewildered him ; but he pitied her confusion, though he know not how to relieve it. To see that proud girl bowing her head with humiliation at having confessed a love for him he had neither sought nor dreamed of. gave a strange satisfaction, and flattered the proud heart that was even yet writhing under the cold, scornful refusal of her younger sister. Yes, he would show Elsie that he could win a fairer bride than herself, and return scorn for scorn. He spoke, quietly and firmly, though every nerve in his body was quivering. “ Janet, will yon be my wife ?” he said. She raised her head, a bright gleam of joy beaming in every feature, and enhancing her loveliness, as she answered, “ Oh, Edmund ! arc you in earnest ? Do you really wish it ?”

He took her two hands in his, and gently kissing her hot brow, said kindly, “ Yes, I do wisli it. I will try to be a good husband to you.” Janet could not answer, for voices were heard, and Elsie and a young officer came into the conservatory. She did not see them at first, for her sweet childish face was lifted to the young man, listening to what he was saying ; but as her eye fell on them, a warm flush rose to her check, and it seemed to Edmund Roscoo that she gave him a sad, wistful, reproachful gaze as she passed them in silence He rose quickly, and leading Janet back to the ball-room, joined the dance once more, striving to forget everything in wild excitement. Gradually the room thinned of its occupants, and Edmund Roscoe was busy in escorting people to their carriages, finding cloaks, and adjusting hoods. He led Janet to hers, for they refused to stay and sleep, and she felt that though she had gained her object, and was Edmund Roscoe’s affianced wife, her happiness was not complete, as he hastily shook hands with her, and rushed back to lead Elsie down. Yes, for the first time since her refusal to dance with him, he approached her and offered her his arm. She took it, wondering at his pale face and glittering eye, and prepared to follow her mother, but he held her back. “ Stop a moment, Elsie,” he. whispered, hoarsely. “ I wsh you to hear it from myself first. I have asked your sister to bo my vyife, Elsie, and she has consented. I now ask yon, as a last favour, never to divulge what has passed between us ; and may Heaven forgive you for your treatment of me, as I do. He hurried forward, and Elsie, faint, giddy, and bewildered, walked by his side jn silence. When ho placed her in the carriage, he pressed her hand till she nearly cried aloud with pain, but she said nothing; and as the lamp-light fell on that still, pale face, every feature revealing the intense inward agony she suffered, a wild conviction shot through Edmund Roscoe’s heart that, in spite of everything, she loved him as truly as ho loved her. He longed to rush after her, to force her to tell him whether he might hope 5 he determined to go the next day and insist on seeing her, and hear from her own Ups the explanation "f her strange conduct ; but, with a bitter, sickening rush of despair, he felt that it wp,s

too late ! Ho was bound to another ami in such a tumult of agony and despair as few men suffer, ho sprang up the steps, and hurried to his room. Hour after hour ho paced the room from wall to wall with rapid, uneven footsteps. Past, present, and future were alike maddening to look upon : the past, where Elsie had pervaded every thought and ae tion, how thoroughly ho never know till now : tho present, where, laving her devotedly, madly, as he did, ho was bound hopelessly bound—to her sister : and the future ah, how terrible a future year after year, and yet never to hope to gain her, seeing her constantly, perhaps watching another win her, and yet never daro by word or deed to reveal the love he felt nothing could ever destroy—nay more, to shew that love which he could not feel to her sister, his promised wife ! It was no wonder his mother remarked his haggard looks when ha entered,tho breakfast room late on the following morning, after such a night of agony ; but the struggle was over. He was calm and collected, and his voice, though a trifle lower than usual, was steady and firm as ho told his father that ho had asked Janet Fraser to bo his wife. Sir Henry drew a long breath, and laid down his newspaper. “ What, the older one !” ho exclaimed ; “ you sly young dog! ’ Why, 1 always thought yon liked that gentle little Elsie best. But there, you are free to please yourself, my boy. Bring home whom you phase as your wife, and she’ll get a hearty welcome from me. Certainly you’ve got j tho finest girl in the county, and she comes of a good old family • and I hope she’ll make you happy ” “ Thank you, sir,” replied his son. “ I am glad you are satisfied with my choice,” as he absently toyed with the ears of tbe great St. Bernard dog. Lady Roscoe kissed her son fondly, but there was a slight touch of disappointment in her tone, as she said, “ You know bow earnestly I wish you happiness, dear Edmund. She is very beautiful, and I dare say very lovable. Still I own I thought, like your father, that you preferred dear little Elsie ; but you are quite right to please yourself.”- . Poor fellow ! another blow to his aching heart. But ho bore it silently, and rising, left tho room. His mind was made up, and come what might, he would not swerve from the course which ho had laid down for himself. His own happiness was wrecked —that he only knew too well—but he would not cause another the pain that iic himself was suffering. Janet had owned that she loved him, and Janet should bo his wife j and the longer he thought it over, tho more convinced was he that Elsie did not care for him. Had she loved him, whatever might be the cause of her cold behaviour lately, it was utterly impossible that she si ion hi behave as she had, after such a letter as ho bad sent her. She had been shocked at bis engaging himself to her sister a few hours after avowing his love for herself ; but that was all, and he would show her that ho could rise above such a scornful refusal as hers had been.

Tims argued Edmund Roscoo as lie rode rapidly towards Agra Lodge, as the old General called his house ; and oh, if that fiery chesnut ho bestrode had never stopped on his voad the day before, how different would his feelings have been ! But Pate works darkly, and he hastened on, all unconscious of the dark deceit which had been practised on him. [7\> he concluded In our next. ]