The Story-Teller.

Ellesmere Guardian, Volume X, Issue 930, 29 July 1891, Page 4

The Story-Teller.

I v a ;bo crET y. i^o^H i^s^; . ;•-,.• /• •; Part J, \, /■■;" *m r.' j \'{Qdniii\^ed t ). . * Once or twice I had flung all the flood of my dfiepl?-arousfio]feeling9 against tim ...NJclc.of his .calm impenetrablpness, Imt wtth what results? Only tlVe' pairifu) aftor consciousness of having created a scene and woumlett mjteelf m ihe conflict; So'tlie'y'3ari» : /^ag._i6'd.'byi l ',ail i 4' I learnt to know and love one m whom I fancied I found perfect comprehension and true sympathy. The, struggle was long ; but m the end love, or what I mistook for lot*., triumphed oter duly, and 1 left my home and husband for one whom I fond ly imagine^ could recompense nic for both. It wns not long before I learnt mj mistake. The man for whom I had sacrificed so much was but of a weak and a shallow natur.*., ahd once the glam-? onr of forbidden love had fallen from our e>es, life been me a miserable burden. My husband had,.. of course, losfc no time m applying.- r or a divorce ; but even before bf. was -legally free of me J bad ; lee mt, what, folly and misery it. would W to link. my siif rto another. I resumed my; ii.wj/.lf n na,;ue, and returned to toy heai t- In ok«m mother, the widow of an Induin eiviliam No reproach* ever pas?ed ber lips, and* we lived* till* her death a year ago, m pcacefpl seclusidh. But Inr jenpion I'insed wjthd er-ilf-^ find I was* then thrown ones more upon the world. I lrad striven to drown thought m study and way thus less unfitted' for tiie profession 1 lrnveithostn tljatf the outside world would have imagined! Sorrow had strengthened my ch-ju-aoter, , cleared jny I lain, nnd scattered Me/childish foiHis* nl n y liapj/ier- sews. But strive as 1 may I cannot forget I cannot re-live roy 7'ast; and memory forbids my ever. 'ifi.U.t.-i my fate with that of another You see imd understand now yourself that what you asked is possible.' " AH that you have told me but makes me lo?e and honour you the more!" exelaime i Lord Dampr veiy fervently. ** You* are over-sensitive, believe me. Al)flov« is grea-t enough to drown all nierPor.es. Your husband was un (wdrtliy of the treasure which lie posses.9ed, t and whet wonder that what he held p«» lightly should be robbed from him? He did not defer ye— ' . * Not a word against my husband', inlerrupttd Mrs. Adair quickly, with flushed cheek and sparkling eye ; I will not hear it.' Asuddcn light broke m upon the young , nian, end bending impulsively forward, he ski I beiieati ui.s breath, ' You love him atiU/r The flush changed tv a deadly whiteness, the lips trembled the eyes wandered from his fixed gaze; and the hands lying clasped upon/her knee, tightened their grasp. ; * You need not answer,' Lord Darner continued,- with a little tremble m his boyish voice, 'your face tells me the truth. You are right : the past does divide ua. Had "your heart been free I would have won it ; ay, I am certain that I would ; but now' — his voice shook .and he paused for a moment ' Well, m spite of all, we must ever remain true friends, remember tbat, and if at any time I can help you m any way to happiness, yon know you may count on nit.' He laid his hand for a moment on her two clasped ones, then rose from his seat, and took his leave. And never again, by word or sign, did he refer to his disappointment. Part 11. The friendship between Lord Darner •*nd Mrs. Adair was strengthened rather than weakened by the little scene which had occurred, and the world never guessed that what it anticipated had already coma off, and the honour been offered arid refused about which speculations were so rife. But though Lord Darner said nothing more on the subject, he thought much. He studied Mrs. Adair closely, and tho more he studied her the more thoroughly and the more firmly he became convinced that her decision had been wise and right. The cloud that hung over her was too heavy for him to lift, the links of tbe past were too strong for him to break, and as time passed on, and their close intimacy continued, his feelings underwent a gradual change and the passionate boyish worship de ' veloped itself into the calm steadfast friendship of a chivalrous man. She must always hold her own place m his heart, but she was no longer the object of his ardent longings. They had already began to centre round another form, that of a young and radiant maiden, wbose merry laugh echoed his, and whose past was as free from regret as bis own. And to see himself perpetually mirrored m the blue depths of her innocent eyes seemed to him the acme of bliss. With all a man's crass imdifftrence to inflicting pain, he spokt honestly and freely of his maiden-lovo to the woman * for whose heart he had' so earnestly pleaded but a few short montha previously. And Mrs. Adair encouraged his confidence!, and forebore to point out how accurate had been her prophecies. Bnt to do his lordship jnstice, his friendship waa none tbe leas sincere became his lore had passed into another's keeping. (Gmtinued m e^r mxi \*m.)