Page:The Granite Monthly Volume 5.djvu/166

 142 THE GRANITE MONTHLY.

" Don't you see, Oh ! my darling ! don't you see ? No I must not, I must not," he cried clasping the little hand convulsively.

" Must not, what?" she innocently asked, gazing into his face.

" Must not — must nut, tell you that I love you, and my last hope of win- ning is gone. Oh ! my love, my lost love !"

The girl drew back in sweet confusion — burning blushes suffused her face and neck, and the pure eyes were lowered in uncontrollable agitation. After a second or two, he making no motion, and still holding her hand, she looked up, and started, such a look of utter despair, and hopeless agony as she saw upon his face, she hoped never to see again upon any human countenance. He was looking out of the window, up into the sky, and all she could think of was, the line she had read somewhere : " Curse God and die." She drew to his side, and laid her golden head upon his arm whispering :

" Do not look like that Walter, you frighten me." With a sigh like a gasp of agony, he looked into her face, then drew the pretty head closer, and rev- erently kissed her upon the brow.

At that moment the studio door opened, and Earnest Langdon entered. His grey brows knit in an ominous frown, and his lips compressed themselves tightly.

" What is the meaning of this scene, sir?"

" It means, Earnest Langdon, that I am taking an eternal farewell of your daughter," rising and seating Ethel in the chair from which he arose, " I love her. I was in hopes to win fame and money ; and there," pointing to the ruined picture, " is the grave of my hopes ; they are dead, buried, and now — now I — I — must leave you — and Ethel, forever."

"Very sensible," muttered the artist his frown relaxing somewhat.

"Oh ! no, Walter, no father, not forever, not forever?" imploringly.

" What have you to say about it girl?" he cried angrily, turning to her, " What have you to say?"

" I — I love him, father !" her bashful eyes falling, her breath coming quickly.

A light as of glory flashed into the young man's eyes, and he looked as if about to snatch her to his heart ; but with a sneer of rage the elder man turned to him.

" What have you to support a wife, one who has been used to every comfort, every luxury?"

" Nothing," desparingly answered the lover.

" So I thought," in a taunting tone.

"You forget your pen, Walter," urged Ethel.

" Yes, I forgot my pen," despondently.

"What about your pen?"

" Oh ! father, he writes such beautiful stories and poems?"

" Do you get paid for them?"

" Not always, but I hope," —

" You cannot live on hope, you cannot marry on hope, and I hope you will put an end to this childish affair. I want my daughter to marry money ; love will do well enough to throw in, but money she must have."

Ethel rose to the occasion.

" Father !" she said in earnest tones, "if I cannot marry Walter, I will never wed at all."

" As you say," laconically.

" I love him, and I wish to wed him, money or no money."

" And live on love?" ironically.

" And live on love. I will work, I will do anything but give him up."

" My darling !" with an adoring look from her lover.

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