Keowee Courier

THE ROMANCE OF ILER STEPHENS.

CHAPTER XVII

Iler was stationed facing a large mirror in the hallway, toying with the tips upon her hat, when Arnold appeared, whistling merrily.

"Where are you bound for?" he inquired suddenly, gazing at her for a moment.

"Only for the post office."

"May I accompany you?"

"I am sorry, but cannot grant your request. I have a previous engagement with Prof. Wallace."

"What? Where did you see him?"

"Why, he visited 'Sunny Side' yesterday while you were away."

"For shame, Iler, to accept the advances of a man in his position."

"Why, he is all right. What objections can you find to his accompanying me?"

"You pretend to remain quite innocent. You know he is married."

"No, indeed; that was only a mistake, and, since it is over, I deem it quite funny. It was his brother Lawrence and not he who was married some time since," laughed Iler.

"I think I have a right to claim your company," cried Arnold, a tone of jealousy in his voice. "I assure you that I am as yet a lady of my own, and shall do as I like, and not be bossed by you. Of course, I am pledged to you, but I am capable of managing my own affairs."

Just at this moment their conversation was interrupted by the approach of Irby. His face appeared radiant and happy on this occasion, but became crimson as he observed Arnold near by.

"Good morning, Prof. Wallace; allow me to introduce you to Mr. Arnold Edrones. I know you have often heard me speak of him."

Arnold was also embarrassed as he met the eyes of Irby.

"Come in, Prof. Wallace," continued Iler.

"No, thank you, Miss Iler; if you are ready we will go,—for it is almost time for the car."

"Yes, we will go," she replied, and off they went.

Arnold watched them from the window until they disappeared from view.

"I really believe Iler loves Irby yet," he thought; "but, nevertheless, she has promised to be mine, though I fear ere long she will be another's; then her pledge to me will be to no avail. I cannot think of her as being so cruel and hard hearted as to forsake one who is so devoted to her. And I shall confide in her most implicitly."

Ere this Iler and Irby had reached the office. They inquired for Willie Jenkins, the postmaster, and he at once came forward.

"This is Mr. Jenkins, I presume," said Iler, walking toward him.

"Prof. Wallace and myself have come to investigate a matter concerning my mail, and perhaps you can give us information on the subject. We desire you to tell us your knowledge of the affair."

"Yes, ma'am, I'm willing to render you any possible service," said the old gentleman, standing erect and twisting his mustache.

"Well," replied Iler, "this gentleman has had several letters to me misplaced through the mail during the past few months. Can you explain the reason for this?"

"At what time and from what places were they written?" inquired Jenkins.

"They were from different points. Some from Europe, others from Winderville, and were mailed between the months of August and the present, the last due here only a few days since."

"Those letters were given to a man who gave his name as Edrones. He brought a note from Miss Iler, saying to keep all mail until he called for it, so, of course, I thought the writing from her and did as requested. I knew nothing of any party concerned in the matter."

"I authorized no one to get my mail. You must surely be mistaken in the name. Can you describe the man?"

"Yes. He is tall and handsome, with blue eyes and dark hair. Apparently he was quite well off, for he wore a lovely black suit and pretty, patent-leather shoes."

"It can't be Arnold; he would never be guilty of so base an act. But the description seems to exactly suit him," thought Iler. "What will occur next? My trouble appears greater than the sorrows others are required to undergo."

"Thank you very much for the information," said Iler as she left the office.

She was silent on her journey home, for she was melancholy. When she reached "Sunny Side" Irby spent some time with her in the drawing room, discussing affairs concerning the mail.

"We will investigate this matter farther, for everything is not yet entirely satisfactory," said Irby as he bid Iler adieu in the hall. He intended returning to Winderville on the evening train, and probably would not see her again before his departure from Bennetsburgh. The car would leave this city at 8 o'clock in the evening.

It was about 7.20 in the evening of this same day, and Iler and Arnold were alone in the drawing room, chatting merrily. He was examining a center-piece of battenberg which Iler had just finished that afternoon, when his thoughts were directed toward a little box upon the table. He opened it and beheld the sparkling gem of Irby's ring.

"This has no right to remain here as a reminder of the donor," he said, a tone of jealousy in his voice.

"He is attempting to force you to bestow your affections upon him and despise me. How can he be so cruel?"

"It is only by accident that this remains here. He has forgotten it."

"Here you are endeavoring to cover his guilt and clear him. In my opinion, he intentionally left this. He is a rascal and has cruelly deceived you, yet you trust and forgive him the first time he asks it. I have a right to claim your entire affections and demand that you cease to think of him and have no more to do with him."

"Do not speak so of Irby. He is a friend of mine and has proved sincere through troubles and trials. The reports circulated are untrue. He is a perfect gentleman in every respect, and I would possess a cold and stony heart should I mistrust so true a friend. Surely you know that I care for you. I love Irby only as a friend."

"Yes, you cannot bluff me thus. You love him, though you will not own it."

"I assure you that I shall do as I like, and if you mistreat me thus before we are married what will you do when I have bound myself to you forever? Though my affections are yours, you may consider our engagement at an end, and under these circumstances I consider myself free."

"You shall never keep the ring. I assure you that he will get it all right."

With these words he rushed from the room and slammed the door, but she recalled him. "Arnold, come back; I have something to tell you."

He entered the room and she began: "Irby's and my letters have been intercepted in the mail. He and I went to the office to investigate the matter, and Mr. Jenkins informed us that a handsome man, tall and slender, with blue eyes and dark hair, giving his name as Edrones, had taken all my mail. His description exactly fitted you, but, Arnold, it was not you—surely you would never be guilty of so base an act. This is not true is it?"

"No, Iler, you know I would not thus wrong you. Surely you do not believe it. But I must go. I will barely have time to find Wallace now." And with this he hurried away and slammed the gate, as he rushed rapidly down the street.

Iler remained in the same position, silent and motionless. Only the ticking of the clock disturbed the stillness of the evening.

"How could Arnold be so jealous that it should cause him to interfere with my mail? He has changed greatly during the past few months. Surely there must be a mistake concerning those letters. He denies the accusation, and it must be false."

Such was the reverie of Iler, as she remained in the drawing room, silent and alone. Bitter tears chased each other down her cheeks.

[To be continued.]