The Shadow of a Sin

ming-my ow

ver so ai

ould hear

n for a ce

e, but many times over-carelessly at first, and the

act-when I have lain for a century dead, the light footfalls of a fair woman will not awaken me. 'Be

ticism-bright, careless, defiant, full of humor, yet with a gleam of poetry-a face that girls and women judge instantly, and always like

y must come

e bright flower

ps. "They can not resist a little flattery judiciously mixed with poetry. I hope I have made no

n on the bank where the wild thyme and heather grew, to wait for the you

es from his lips. Did this great poem of nature touch him-the grand song that echoes through all creation, which began in the fai

was frank and red; yet he was not quite trustworthy. There was no great depth in his h

it. "Ten minutes past seven-and she promised t

emed to move the trees to respond; it was as thou

though it were wild with joy. Presently a footstep was heard, and then the long expected one appeared. With something between a s

years for only one look

irl wearily. "I would not wait

ff her hat. She fanned herself with it for a few min

ing me, Hyacinth," said the young lover

ld," she broke out. "I am so tired of my life-so tired of it, Claude,

ome little interes

tterest pain would be better than t

after years, and repented of t

e. "I hope you do not find sitting by my

t the laugh had

oon, you tell me, and then the only gleam of sunshine

so much?" he asked. "You

I describe it from the hour when the first sunbeams woke me thi

and let me hear that the thought

and fresh and dewy everything was. I dressed myself very quickly and went down-stairs. The great house was all darkness and silence. I had forgotten that Lady Vaughan does not allow the front or back doors to be o

!" he said

the air, and the blinds drawn to keep out the sun; flowers give her the headache, and the birds make too much noise. So, w

young lover, beginning to pity the yo

dull breakfast-room, Claude, without speaking, until I am ready to cry aloud-I grow so tired of the dull monotony. When we have worked for an hour, I write letters-Lady Vaughan dictates them. Then comes luncheon. We change from the dull breakfast-room to the still more dull dining-room, from which sunshine and fragrance are also carefully excluded. After that comes the greatest trial of all. A closed carriage comes

larating life, certain

yet it is denied me. I am eighteen, and I love life-oh, so dearly! I should like to be in the very midst of gayety and pleasure. I should like to dance and sing-to laugh and talk. Yet no one seems to remembe

gs, Hyacinth," said the young lover, and his ey

and I assure you that looking back on my li

ness is all to com

start for Bergheim-a quiet and sleepy little t

our fate?"

am to marry Adrian Darcy. I suppose he is a model of pe

orce you to marry any

will only preach to me, and talk at me, until I shall be driven mad

cinth?" asked h

hould certainly say, as quiet and uninteresting as nearly all the rest

Claude Lennox. "How it is? Was the

ls. I am Lady Vaughan's granddaughter, and she has a large fortune to leave; this Adrian Darcy is also her relat

of great relief. "You need not marry h

Vaughan likes cannot possibly suit me. Oh, Claude

u do for change and excitement, the journe

a half-wistful expressi

d to it with rapture, if any one young or amusing were going with me; but to sit in clo

m," he said-"you are fond of

ke me so miserable. They are over sixty, and I am just eighteen-they have forgo

over the flowers, and he s

ut there is one remedy, and onl

something of childish

know," s

h; you know if you love me

did not droop as they met his, the

ady Vaughan will not allow such a word in her presence; I have no young girl friends to come to me with

t has a voice, and yo

erently. "If it has a voice,

when I ought to be far away, hoping almost against hope to win you. Do not tel

id not leave her face; the gravit

el," she said; "I only de

her you love me or not. Are you pleased to see me? Do you look f

w you are coming; I think of you very often all day, and I-I dream of yo

ands in his, his handsome face growing brighter and more

for her. He must have been blind indeed not to see the girl's heart

ted. "I love you better than an

particularly ha

here every breath of wind is a fragrant sigh-where the air is filled with music, and the speech of the people is song. You will behold the grandest pictures, t

as a mask. She clasped her hands in triumph, her e

will be delightful

ung queen, in flowers, and go to balls that will make you think of fairyland? You shall go to the o

ess that came over her f

d love, for youth and life. In that dull, gloomy house I have pined away. See, I am as thirsty to enjoy life as the deer on a hot day is to enjoy a running stream. It would be cruel to catch that little bird swinging on the boughs and singing so sweetly-it would be cruel to catch tha

n a silence fell over them, broken

, "I have been so unhappy that I have wi

oating memories of grand sentences telling of "hearts held in patience," "of endurance that maketh life

Why need the birds sing so sweetly and the blossoms wear a thousand different colors? If life is meant for nothing but plain, dull duty, we do not need

eagerly into t

for love-nothing else. You are young and beautiful; you ought

death of that gloomy house and those gloomy p

ce dar

scape these evils, Hyacinth

all my perplexities, Claude, and

childlike simplic

ove you so dearly that I cannot live without you and because y

nothing but the simple wonder of a child in hers-nothing b

e not the least chance of escape. I should imagine the future that lies before you to be more terrible even than the past. Rely upon it, Adrian Darcy w

of terror came

would rather die than li

you will say good-by to me, go to Bergheim, marry Darcy, and drag out the rest of a weary life at the Chase, se

rebelled; the longing for love and pleasure,

sh, and you shall never have another hour's dulness or weariness whi

ed, her lovely young face g

ake the train for London, and on Thursday, instead of going to Berg

ed on her face; but she was v

e Chase-where the goddess of dulness has reigned for years-an elopement, Cynthy, followed by

the words hal

would not that be very

d they are the happiest people in the world; elopements

ight?" she aske

you? Though you are so young, Cynthia, you must know better than that. To elope is right enough in our case. You are like a captive princess; I am the knight come to deliver you from the dreari

bolts nor ba

ue love f

es of her lover's song died over the flowers. "Lady Vaughan a

the Chase has long windows that open on to the ground. You can

out at night alone,"

ation together. We shall catch a train leaving Oakton soon after midnight, and shall reach London about six in the morning. I have an old aunt livin

ng!" she said. "You must have been t

her of our union; and instead of starting for that dreary Bergheim, we will go at once to sunny France, or fair a

ked simply. "Lady Vaughan s

be penetrating to the very depths of his heart. "Lady Vaughan has forgotten that she was

ing to do?" she asked. "Woul

when he answered "No"-the lovely, trust

Hyacinth-think it over. There lies before y

need we elope? Why not ask Lady Vaughan

would be carried off on Thursday, whether you liked it or not. If

the novelty, the romance, the promised happiness,

ht," he said, "and le

in prison all day; it is not often that I have an

ome signal. You have charge of the

them at my plea

te roses-there; if, on the contrary, you are inclined to follow up a life of unendurable ennui, put crimson flowers there. I shall un

that I shall for

fe as it is meant to be enjoyed. It was never intended for you to dream away your existence in one long sleep. Your be

ion, what love! The girl grew grave and silent as she listened. She wondered why she felt so quiet-why none of the rapture that lighted up his face and shone in his eyes came to her. She loved

was pouring out love, passion, and tenderness in burning word

id these words to herself,

monotony for one of happiness, such as you can hardly imagine. You will never repent it, I am s

erward that look remained with him. She tried to smile,

iedly, "Sir Arthur and Lady Vaugha

id, clasping her hands in his own.

urned away the rush of wind through the tall gr

r happy. The half-given promise rested upon her heart like a leaden weight, although she was scarce conscious in her innocence why it should thus oppress her. At the entrance to the Hall grounds she paused, and with a g

but no thought of her young, fresh beauty was in the girl's mind then. The question, "Da

onger about it," and with a sigh she turned from the sunset-li

heroic devotion to the right saved the life of an innocent man, yet drove her into exile from home and friends, and how at last the