Buell Hampton. Emerson Willis George

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СКАЧАТЬ to believe that you would remember me, but you cannot. Not only is your destiny marked out for you, but even your friends have been chosen for you, and I am not on the list. No difference what your personal wishes may be at this time, you will soon forget me.”

      There was an earnestness approaching sternness in his voice.

      “You are very cross to-day,” said Ethel, sadly, “very cross, indeed. I could not forget you, even if I were to try, and I do not think it kind of you to say so.”

      “Are you quite sure?” inquired Jack, half rapturously.

      She raised her eyes to his, and after a moment said, “I am sure. But what difference can it make to you? I shall never see you again.”

      Jack could not reply at once. He turned partly away and looked out across the waters. As Ethel glanced at him she saw that his face was ashen. She feared that he was vexed and would again say something cross to her. She remembered the feeling that had come over her once before when she was with him. At the sight of his sad face her thoughts became those of pity; and she fell to wondering why friends have to part. She came close to his side, and, laying a hand on his arm, said, pleadingly, “You must not be angry with me to-day; indeed you must not. Why, your arm is shaking as if you were cold.”

      “Yes,” replied Jack, in a low, trembling voice. “Oh, Ethel, Ethel, can you not see – can you not understand that I love you? My heart is beating for you with fierce hammer strokes through every fibre of my being. I have no words to express myself, but I know, yes, before God, I know that I love you better than my own life.”

      Tears stood in Ethel’s eyes, and in their startled surprise Jack read that his impassioned declaration had been too sudden.

      “Oh,” sobbed Ethel, as she bowed her head to hide her tears, “if daddy were only here.”

      “Forgive me – forgive me for speaking, if I have offended you, but the thought of your going away from me, perhaps forever, quite unmanned me.” Lifting one of her trembling hands, he kissed it passionately. “Forget me, Ethel, forget me to-morrow, if you will, but only tell me before we part that I am forgiven.”

      “No, no,” said Ethel, between her sobs, “I am sure there is nothing to forgive. Oh, I cannot understand this strange feeling that has taken possession of me. If daddy were only here so I could talk to him. I am afraid to speak to mamma.”

      “Well, do not speak to her,” said Jack, soothingly, “but when you reach your home tell your father, if you will, and, if you can give me your love, write me and I will come to you at once.”

      “It is good of you to say that,” said Ethel, still sobbing, “I really believe I love you now.”

      Jack was about to throw to the winds all his good resolution of giving her time to decide, and he would have taken her in his arms then and there, and claimed her for his own forever, had not a colored boy from the hotel interrupted them.

      “Beg your pardon, miss,” said he, “but Mrs. J. Bruce-Horton wished me to say would you please come to her.”

      Jack dropped a piece of silver in the boy’s hand, and said, “Please say to Mrs. Horton that Miss Ethel will come very soon.”

      They turned and walked slowly, side by side, along the path, in the now uncertain light, toward the hotel, enjoying love’s first awakening. Presently Jack spoke.

      “You will not forget me, Ethel, but you will write for me to come, will you not?” The soft pressure of the girl’s small hand, which was resting contentedly in his, and her sweet, low words of assurance made Jack happy, and yet he was conscious of the sadness of parting. As they neared the hotel he lifted her hand to his lips again and murmured, “Good-bye, Ethel, God bless you.”

      “Good-bye,” she whispered; and her eyes were brimming with tears. “I shall not forget my promise, and I am sure daddy will be on our side.”

      Jack hurried down the walk, and Ethel stood on the veranda, looking after his retreating figure. A soft mist of awakened love overflowed her young heart and enveloped her.

      She turned and went into the hotel – a woman; her girlhood had vanished with the awakening.

      CHAPTER IV. – THE DEPARTURE

      WHEN Mrs. Horton and Mrs. Osborn learned from the messenger boy that Ethel was with Doctor Redfield their agitation became apparent. They agreed that the best thing to be done was to hasten their departure from Lake Geneva. They wisely decided not to mention the affair to Ethel; but they determined to be more careful and observant of her in the future. Before retiring, they determined to start for the Southwest on the following day.

      Lady Avondale was blandly polite, and she assured Mrs. Horton that already she had learned to love Ethel, the dear child, as if she were her own daughter. “Lenox,” she said, assuringly, “is taken with her, really he is quite attentive; have n’t you noticed it, Mrs. Osborn?”

      “I must admit,” replied the intriguing Mrs. Osborn, “that he has expressed his admiration for her quite freely, while the dear boy’s eyes betray an eloquence of feeling that cannot be doubted.”

      Had Mrs. Horton tried to give an explanation why she desired such an alliance, she would perhaps have floundered hopelessly in a sea of interrogation-points. Until she met Mrs. Osborn this Anglomania idea had never even been thought of by this otherwise sensible American mother. There are natures that influence us, unconsciously to ourselves, in strange and mysterious ways. We meet a person, and instinctively we are impressed with some peculiarity that he or she possesses. We hardly know just what it is, nor do we even stop to analyze our feelings. This one peculiarity might outweigh, in our minds, a hundred glaring defects – defects which in others would be not only quickly noticed by us, but severely condemned. Hence, in our newly formed fondness, friendship, or whatever it may be, we practically become blind to faults.

      Mrs. Horton had formed a strong attachment for this very clever woman. This power was not an unconscious one to Lucy Osborn. She had quickly discovered it, and she meant to profit by it, – not in a mercenary way, no, she would have scorned even the thought of such a thing, but in a social way; through an alliance for Ethel she would in some way build an altar for herself.

      She experienced little love or sentiment for either Mrs. Horton or her daughter, but she determined to use them as a means to an end. In most things Mrs. Osborn would have been considered an average woman – no better, no worse. Her desire, her ambition, her mania, however, to enter into English social circles was paramount to all other considerations. It was the gaunt tigress of her nature, famishing with desire, ready with hidden tooth and claw to pounce upon every opposition.

      “I can assure you, Lady Avondale,” said Mrs. J. Bruce-Horton, and she flushed deeply as she spoke, “that a marriage between my daughter and your son, when he shall have succeeded to his family title, will be most agreeable to me.”

      “So nice of you to say that, I am sure,” lisped her Ladyship, while in her heart she was saying, “Why, this silly American woman is extremely amusing.”

      “I trust,” continued she aloud, “that your worthy husband will also approve of the contemplated alliance of our families.”

      Mrs. J. Bruce-Horton shrugged her stately shoulders in an affected manner and looked bored. Mrs. Lyman Osborn came to her rescue.

      “I promise you, Lady Avondale,” she observed, “that when Mrs. J. Bruce-Horton speaks, she does so for her entire family. Mr. John B. Horton is, perhaps СКАЧАТЬ