THE WEST SHORE.
BO
You are right; suoh self-sacrifice is almost incon
ceivable 1 " says Horace gravely.
"You need not despise it," she says quickly, stung by
his tone. "It is not every mau who would wish for a
fiance with no dot, nothing that any one will envy him.
You may hear what they say m Pont-Avize. They will
not think of it as you do. I shall not not bring him any
thing that he cares for, and he will give me a share in all
that he has."
" Yes, in his refined pleasures and his gildod drawing
room, in his absurd fountain and his Chinese pngmla, in
the Venetian mirror of which he talks so much, and his
fit poodle. Your fate will be indeed a happy one," cries
Hornce scornfully.
She turns away and makes no answer, for her strength
has deserted her, and miserable scalding tears fall fast
upon the white linen. But Horace is not appeased
though he knows that Bhe is crying.
" So this is to be the end," he says again, bitterly.
" Why did I not know it before ? "
" Because I did not know it mysolf," she says, hastily
brushing away her tears and turning once tunro toward
him. " It was only yesterday that they told me. It will
be a long time before he asks me himsolf. Papa has said
that he will wait He will give me time."
" And what will time do for you? " asks Hornce coolly,
seating himself on the stool and fixing his eyes upon hor.
" Why why do you try to make it harder for me ?"
she cries, while the tears drop unheedod upon his coat
sleeve a'nd her own hands.
" Why? Must I tell you why?" She stops crying at
the question and looks at him like a frightened child, for
she can not withdraw her hands from his, nor hide hor
face from his eyes.
"Do you know now?" he asks again slowly, whilst at
the rush of color which his look hns brought into her
faco a great gladness takes possession of his heart and
holds high revel there. " Do you not understand that it
is because I would make it imposHiblo? Will you not
love mo, do you not already love mo a little? Toll me
answer me."
But she makes no answer. Slio only droops her head
lowor and pulls her hands away from him.
He lets them co and steps back. "Then you can
not," he says quietly. "If it was not so you could not
send me away without one word. At least you woul
simak to me. You need not be afraid; I am not going i
force an answer now;" and he makes a movement as if t
leave her. It is foitunate that her confusion is too great
for her to observe that his voice is not so deejionding as
his words.
" Wait," Bntj says, stretching out one imploring hand
' I did not mean to be unkind."
" Then look up. Only look up, and I will not ask you
to sj)eak even one word." ,J
She has hfln trained nndor a Btrict rule, and with lor
obedience is almost an instinct She does not dream of
resisting the tone of authority, gentle as it is.
Hor heart is beating in frightened throbs; sho does not
even know what sho would say; hor long huthes are still
wot with tears; hor eWVs arc burning; Jul ulmuuil
though it in, sho does not hesitate to lift her shy eyes to
nis. And sho lias no no, d to speak, for they have told
him all that he would know.
" My sweet little love," ho cries joyously, and takes
hor in his arms; and sho does not struggle or try to
spouk, but hides hor faco uion his shoulder.
v.
Throe days have passed since that stolon interview in
the storeroom three days since love came and claimed
liis prey, lie has roimied with undivided sovoroiuntv
'or throe joyful rosy dawns- throe happy wakeful nights,
in Ainu'o's glad young heart. Horace is still at Pent-
Avi.o; thoy are not as yot betrothed, for M. Iaval is cau
tious. He has two strings to his bow, and ho will not, as
yet, discard either.
If young Dallas can obtain tho consent of his friends
and tho approval of his family, lie will lie a bettor fmrli,
for Horaoo will be an English baronot some day, and
that is tho next thing to a lord But ho fours lest tho
young man should not bo able to carry out his intentions;
even in England parents have somo authority, and Sir
George Dallas may withhold Ins consent. As to Ilia
young people marrying without it, such a thing is not to
le thought of tor a moment
Horace has written to his father, and M. Laval is
clover enough to see that he is uneasy about the result.
Horaoo for his part is very fur from lioing at his aso.
Ho breathes not a word of his doubt or his oars to
Aimoo, but ho thinks of the old homo and tho trllo of
younger brothers and sisters, lie romemlsm his father's
anxieties and care for tho future, alsive all ho romomliers
fair-haired English girl, whose fortune would have
made his path in life so easy, a girl of whom Ills mother
1 said, "Sho is so good ami true, Horace; u yen win
her you will lie a happy man;" and in his heart ho knows
that a week ago he was ready to lsdiovo that she was
riifht Yet at least ha was not pledged, and though he
... i a t i . . H . !i 1 . .
has sealed his lovo to Alineo ny inn one siss, it is a
pledge which shall never lw broken.
When tho letter oomos at last he ons It with nervous
hasto, and as he turns tho first page his brows contract
and sn angry light omnos into his eye. Ho fr onco
seeks M. Uval of his own accord, but it would not swin
that the hour which lis semls with him in hi study lias
tended to soothe his porturld Mings. As ho Uvea
him ho thrusts the letter inU his picket, crushing it In
his hand, and goes out gloomily Into th street
"Go, then, if you will; obtain your parents js-rmis.
sion and then oome to ask mine," M. Laval has said " It
is well our good Blanchard knows not of this littlo epU
sodo," he thinks to himsolf as the young man Uvea him.
"Bah, it is the overture More the opera, the grace be
fore tho ninat" ,..!,
He is insufferable," Horace says to himsolf. "Aim'
shall never sea him again when onco we are married. It