St. Landry Democrat

"In truth you'll not marry him?"

"In truth I will. He is a jewel I have found among the rubbish of mankind in general," said Irene Elder, laughing.

"There, that quotation is not quite correct. But the difference between the elegant Clarence Neville, with his irresistible smile and manner, neckties and whole get-up in the latest fashion, and Mr. Clayton, plain and unassuming, with garments more for use than elegance-"

"Nellie," and Irene faced quickly round upon the speaker, "don't you dare to make any comparison between those two men to the disparagement of Ernest Clayton. You cannot judge him, for you have only seen him once, under the most unfavorable circumstances. He is as far above Clarence, morally, intellectually and physically, as Clarence is above the meanest beggar that walks the streets of London."

"Well, of all things, Irene, who'd have thought this? You, the belle of three seasons, refined, fastidious to a nicety, aristocratic-to think of you preferring that plodding lawyer to a gentleman of leisure, taste and fortune, like Mr. Neville!"

"Nellie," spoke Irene, "I never knew the capabilities of my nature until I made the acquaintance of Mr. Clayton. I sometimes vaguely wondered, when in the society of Clarence, if I was not capable of nobler thoughts than his conversation ever aroused within me; whether there was not something higher to discuss than the senseless twaddle of fashionable society. Ernest Clayton touched a secret spring, and disclosed recesses in my nature before unknown to myself. I found in him a vigorous, highly-cultivated mind, too elevated to be interested in mere frivolity; a heart capable of priceless affection for the object of his love, morality unquestionable, a man to lean on, to respect and love with ever-increasing attachment-in short, a true-hearted, manly man."

"How enthusiastic you grow!" exclaimed Nellie, looking admiringly at the fair face of her friend, whose eyes lighted with a proud, tender gleam as she thus dilated on the character of the man she loved.

Nellie, though trifling and vain, yet respected Irene now more than formerly, and saw that she had passed into a higher, purer atmosphere than that in which she herself now existed. For a moment she almost wished for some influence like this to come into her own life; then, in the next, she was again rallying her friend.

"Won't Mr. Neville break his heart over your desertion of him? I thought he looked rather disconsolate last evening."

The butterfly had, I fancy, got tired of fluttering around me. Don't fear for him; he will soon console himself with new love. I know he admires Miss Warner, and she admires him; perhaps she will receive his attentions," looking mischievously at Irene.

"I shall not receive them," said Nellie, though with heightened color. "But au revoir, Irene. I must leave you with your pleasant thoughts of Mr. Clayton to for company. You are expecting him this evening, are you not?" And Nellie flitted out the room and down stairs.

Left to herself, Irene drew up her easy chair to the glowing grate, and, resting her head on her white jeweled hand, gave herself up to pleasant thoughts, if one might judge from her countenance.

Very fair she looked, a woman whom any man might love, almost reverence: for the casket was not more fair than the jewel it enshrined. Her form and features were very beautiful, but her face was expressive of all sweet womanly sympathies; a true and tender heart was there. What man most prizes in woman is her affection, not her intellect.

"A gentleman in the drawing-room wishes to see you," said her maid, entering the drawing-room at the moment.

With a heart pulsating more rapidly and a heightened color, she descended to meet him, and was soon clasped in the arms of her lover.

He was all that Irene had described him-a man whom his fellow men instinctively respected and trusted, and one to whose firm and tender sway a true woman would gladly, happily bow her head, and find it her greatest happiness to honor and obey.

"I have something to tell you, dearest, to know you why I prize your love so much," he said, as they sat side by side with clasped hands. "Shall it be now?"

She timidly raised her eyes to his with an assenting glance.

"When I lived in my country home I was younger, and trusted your sex more fully than I now do. I met a young lady, lively, fascinating, and beautiful, who was visiting some of her country friends a short distance from my father's house. We walked, rode, sailed together, and she put forth all her power to captivate me, and succeeded. But when I declared my love for her she rejected me scornfully, and you cannot conceive the revulsion of feeling that took place when her utter heartlessness was laid bare to my gaze. For a time I vowed I should never seek the society of another woman, and for three years after I came to the city I kept my vow. But the love I had for her bears no more resemblance to the love I now feel for you than the light of yon fair planet does to the sun at noonday. That experience has taught me to prize you more than I might otherwise have done."

"Do you know the place of residence of the lady?" asked Irene, "and have you since met her?"

She is in London, and I have met her. Her name is Miss Warner. She did not recognize me, but I knew her face at once; she had not changed as I have.

"Why she is an acquaintance of mine, and was here this afternoon. We were talking of you, but I never dreamed that there was a romance like this in your two lives. She spoke of seeing you once, and I am sure she did not know you were the hero of her former flirtation. She has had so many love affairs that she has probably forgotten that one."

The magnificent parlors of the wealthy Mrs. Howard were rapidly filling with forms of grace and beauty, clad in the most elaborate costumes that artistic taste and skill could devise or boundless wealth procure.

Rather late in the evening Miss Elder entered the room, leaning on the arm of Ernest Clayton. They had not appeared in public so conspicuously before, and a murmur of admiration at the beauty of the pair ran round the room. Ladies remarked on the gentleman's distinguished appearance, so different from some of the specimens of mankind around him, as, with erect bearing and manly tread, he walked proudly, yet with a protecting air, by the side of his betrothed wife.

Nellie was there, exchanging lively badinage with Clarence Neville as they passed near her, and she looked up to encounter the dark, handsome eyes of Mr. Clayton fixed upon her with a searching gaze. For a moment she reviewed the buried memories of the past for some clew to the half-recollection that came to her, for his glance was one of recognition; and as her eyes searched his face, there flashed across her mind the revelation that this was the man whom five years before, she had treated so shamefully.

Her eyes fell beneath his look, and she would have turned and made her escape, had he not spoken in a low voice:

"Miss Warner has not, I see, forgotten Ernest Clayton, nor the little episode of a summer five years ago in T."

He bowed and turned from her to speak to Irene; while she, covered with confusion at the unexpected meeting, left the room to recover her self-possession.

Could Ernest have known the feelings of regret and shame that swept over her spirit, he would have felt himself amply revenged; but he was too happy in Irene's love to wish revenge.

So those were wed, and merrily rang the bells; and in after-life, as quiet conjugal happiness took the place of the ardor of early love, Ernest would often say to his loved wife:

"Miss Warner did a kind act for me when she refused me, and left me free to seek you, my dearest earthly treasure."

Nellie did marry Clarence Neville, and led a frivolous, fashionable life. She had money at her command, but promptings she may have had after a higher life, when she sometimes called on Irene and witnessed her domestic happiness, were effectually checked by contact with the world, and by the lack of those qualities which a woman should possess in her husband if she would have her married life perfect her being, and make her a true, unselfish woman.

Be not fashion's idle lady;
Be a whole-souled woman.