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 212 GUARDY'S PEARL.

room, and looked a little suspiciously, I fancied, at my jewel-case, now almost empty. Finally, she said, good-night, (our rooms were on the same side of the house, but hers was at one end of the balcony, and mine at the other), and then I sent Martha away, pretending that I would do my hair myself. Twelve o’clock! It was nearly time to start; so I put up my window and gazed cautiously out. The rain had stopped a little, but it blew just as hard as ever; and, oh, dear! how slippery the balcony looked! No help for it; so I turned my gas down very low, and having lowered my bag, gathered my dress in my hand, and slid safely and almost noiselessly down. Then came a gust that nearly took my breath away, and there was a distant gleam of light in the summer-house. How could Charley be so imprudent! On any less stormy night the people at the lodge must have seen it. I am certainly a very plucky girl, for between the pitchy darkness and the wet, slippery ground, I was in a little the worst plight I ever imagined. On I plunged, however, until I got to the little bridge, and there stopped to take breath. My bag was heavy, so I deposited it on the boards, and at that instant I heard Charley's voice, so sharp and quick, that I fairly jumped.

‘Kathie, take care, for heaven’s sake! Don’t try the bridge, it’s broken in several places, and the stream has risen so——”

Bang! A furious blast of wind, a rush of swollen water; and as he snatched me away from the dangerous locality, the remains of the little bridge went floating off—my bag, my jewels, and my dresses with it, and I, like Lord Ullric, was ‘left lamenting.”

“Goodness! my bag!” I gasped; and then, as  I saw Charley's face, by the light of his lantern, I went off into a fit of laughter that nearly strangled me, as I tried not to make a noise.

“How upon earth are we going over, Charley? The gate is locked, and the stream impassable.” Alas! for the romance of the elopement, fancy Charley’s horror! “Don’t you think we're a pair of geese, dear?”

“Most unmitigated ones,” said the clear, soft voice of Marguerite, close at my elbow. In my fright I nearly tumbled into the water, and Charley was almost as bad. There she stood, her long hair wet and loosened, her pale face and gleaming eyes looking at us with a mixture of censure and kindness.

“Kathie, come home,” said she, a little severely; ‘I think you are mad to risk so much in such an utterly thoughtless, childish fashion. Mr. Blake, I hardly think such foolish children have any claim for mercy at Our King’s hands.” I don’t think I ever felt so like a fool. To be foiled in my elopement was not half so hard as to have merited the white witch’s contempt— for I love Marguerite almost as well as I do Charley. But I didn’t hang my head like a chidden child then; I scolded, and laughed, and cried, and defended Charley, and would not allow him to say that it was at all his fault.

“I only implore you not to tell aunt Frances,” said I. ‘Write for Guardy tomorrow, if you choose; but I won’t be bullied by that old lady. And then, just think of my bag and jewelry at the bottom of the river!” Marguerite’s lips quivered at the climax.

‘Kathie, darling, go home,” said Charley, at last. ‘Miss Vivian, I am thoroughly ashamed of my own conduct. Try to be as merciful to that poor child as you can. May I come back as far as the house?”

But Marguerite sent him to the lodge instead, to knock up the keeper, with a story of being locked in; and then we girls battered against the wind and rain back to our balcony. Without a word, Marguerite locked the window, turned on the gas, and throwing herself in my easy-chair, laughed a little, low laugh of contentment.

“Oh, Kathie! you naughty, naughty child! How I have been watching you every moment since last night, when I overheard you plotting with Charley in the library, and made up my mind to stop you. I would have done it earlier, but you were bent upon trying it. Yes, I followed you from the time you started, except that I let myself quietly out of the house-door, instead of the balcony. I have kept my own counsel; and you will be heartily ashamed of it in six months. Child! don’t be silly! Are you crying?”

“To be sure I am,” sobbed I, as Marguerite’s busy fingers loosened my wet cloak. ‘You're such a cold, proud girl, you don’t know what it means to love any one as I love Charley. I tell you I shall die if Guardy separates me from him.” And I stamped my feet in genuine, passionate misery. Marguerite drew me down close beside her, and kissed me twice. I looked up in surprise at the unexpected caress, and saw that her eyes were full of tears.

“So I am too cold to love, Kathie? Little girl, do you wish to listen to a story—a short one, and very commonplace. I would like to comfort you, and, perhaps, I can do so best by telling you what a sore heart I have carried this five years. Yes, five years—don’t you know I'm twenty-four, Kathie?” She did not look it, with her beautiful, pearly skin, and violet eyes; and she smiled, as I told her so.