FICTION IN BRIEF.

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume XXXVI, Issue 11611, 13 August 1892, Page 1

FICTION IN BRIEF.

A RAINY ROMANCE BY JUSTIN B. UaCABTBT, AtttfeWOl "Doom: An Atlantic EjfaOd*," "LHrLaw." He had dropped into silenc* ror Awhile. They were wul! out on the downs, and by themselves. Mr paused fur a moment, and then pointed wilii the slick on which he leaned as lie walked, pointed at the horizon where deep blue sea and pale blue sky met and melted, llarie Antoinette, standing by his side, uondertd what he was thinking of that he seemed so [;rave. Then as if in obedience to her unspoken query he found his "olee, and spoke, and made the great mistake of his life. '■ Marie Antoinette," he said, and even as he spoke he was in a dim kind of way aoused at the unnatural sound of his voice, arid the way in which it quavered over its vidacity in calling the girl by her Christian iaiM : " Marie Antoinette, I love you ; will you be my wife ?" tic was sorry he had said it the moment rhe words had passed his lips, not so much for attrssalf, but because of the look of Intense ir.d wholly unexpected pain that came into Marie Antoinette's eyes. •• Oh," she stammered, " wh»t a pity, .vhat a pity." And then, in the unexpected way of woman, she began to cry, not noisily, jr passionately, but very prettily, as she did iverything, the tears welling up into her syes and making them larger, darker, more ustrous than ever. Young Carson felt a catch at his heart, as f the lean, brown fingers of a Faquir had lutched it and were squeezing it dry. •• Why is it a pity ?" lie asked doggedly, ' I love you with all my soul, and am I, lo yon think me— of com se, 1 know I am, Jiough — quite unworthy of you ?" " No, no," answered Marie Antoinette, and aer voice was as tearful as her eyes. •* No, 30, it's not that. ButyouhavespoiUeveryihing somehow. Let us go home." Carson readied out his hand eagerly to her. "Is there no hope ? 1 can well nnderland that you-'d.«,not care for me, but per'iaps jou might— sometime— " His voice trailed off into silence. Marie Antoinette looked fisedly at him. Her eyes were full of tears, but her voice was quite Grm. " No, no," she said, "you hurt me very much if you make me hurt you, but 1 have nothing else to say, and never shall;" Carson lonkea at the slight ftirlish figure, *t tiie fair girlish face with an agony in his soul. He knew as well as if it had besn written upon the shy in letter; of fire that I here was no hope for him of Marie Antoinette's love. 'lhey .valked back to the hotel in silence. Just as lhey got to the drawing-room he spoke again : "Is there no hope for me ? Not now, but ever." Marie Antoinette shook her head. ' Neither now nor ever," she said. " May 1 write to you ?" he asked. "No please," t.iid Marie Antoinette. Her eyes were quite grave and her lips quite steady. He l;neiv thai she meant what she said. He took hrr hand, bent over it for a moment, and kissed it very genily, then he turned and went slowly cnt of the room. 'Ihal afternoon General Gihnore learnt fro n a note that was left for him, that Captain Carson had crossed over to France, to rejoin his friend at l'aris. " Rather a snddtn disappointment," said General Gilmore lo Mavie Antoinette who sat opposite to him at knehcon. But Marie Antoinette answered very slowly. ■• No, I think not. Ha said, you know, that he would go away as soon as it stopped raining, and it lias stopped you see." And so it had, ouiside, but there were lew in Made Antoinette's eyes. What Trimbull said to his cousin after Carson had returned ;o IndU, long before his leave of abbence, was : — " What a nuisance uomeii are ; never s»w a man so bowled over as poor Carson was. Wonder if he'd have any chance if he tried And Lord Bulcote answered, looking meditatively out into Piccadilly. " Don't know I'm suie. But if the girl is.*^ anything like her father. I should say nottßJ? Anyway I'd give a hundred to one aeam^Vge^ The End. -JByCj