Fair And False

"Cora," said oíd Miss üucbesne, abruptly, "did you ever have your fortune told?" Cora Leslie was dreaming over her needlework, in the soft light of the April noon. Blossoming cyclamens were in the deep casements; a white hyacinth hung its odorous bells in the sunshine; a blue ribboned work basket was drawn close to the window, and a tiro of logs burned, with a comfortable, crackling sound, in the deep, tiled fireplace. Cora started at the sudden question, and then smiled. "IP" said she. "My fortune told? How should 1? We city arirls never stumble across gypsy eanlps; and I don't believe in the wise woinen who advertise f rom city flat?." Old Miss Duchesne was sallow, with very black hair, scarcely as yet sprinkled with gray, although sixty years had passed over it; sharp, black eyes, and a nose and chin which nearly met. She looked almost like a sphinx herself as she sat there. "I used to teil fortunes, when Iwas a girl," said she. "With cards?" laughed Cora. "íio; by palmistry. Shall I teil yours?"Cora looked at the old lady with surprise. Was sho in jrst or in earnest? Why lid she speak so sharply? Why did those glittering eyes seem lo burn their way into her very brain? But Miss Duchesne had been the school friend of Cnra's mother, years and years ago, and Cora had alway huniurud her eccentricities. "If you cboose," said she, half hesitating. "(iive me your hand,'" said Misa Duchesne - "the same hand wbiuh you are une day going to bestow upon Duke Chesierton iu marriage." "Yes," said Cora calmly. "A white, plump, velvety littlehand,' said Miss Duchesne, peering so closely into the palm that her nose almost touched the rosy skin. "Let me see! let - me- see! The line of luck; the line of life; the line of iove! Ah, here we are! Beware of a dark girl. She ís coming between jou and the line of loTe. She will work vou some trouble jet." Miss Duchesne droppcd the hand, took off her spectaeles, and solemnly Í)laced them in her pocket. Then she eaned back in her chair and regarded Cora inientlvThe girl sat as if some new light had suddenly dawned upon her brain. "You mean my Cousin Ariadne?" said she, invoJuntarily. "Miss Duchesne nodded. ' I mean your Cousin Ariadne," said she. "Child, child! can it be possible that you are so blind as not to see what is going on imder your very eyes. That girl is winning your lover away." Cora smiled incredulously. "Oh, but," said she, "that is quite impossible. Duke loves me! he is engaged to me!" "Men are false as Mephistopheles," said Miss Duchesne, with energy. "Thero uever was oneyet proof against the wiles of a siren like Ariadne Buckingham." "Miss Dúchense, you must not talk so," faltered Cora, uith the color varying on her cheek, and a startled look In her eyes. "Ariadne is my geust. Duke is my engaged lover. 1 - " SilsntJy míss Dúchense drew aside the ruby velvet draperiesof the window and pointed to where Miss Leslie's own carriago was drawn up opposite the curbstone. Ariadne Buckingham - a tall, brilhant brunette - in a carnaje costum of salmón satin and plush, was just stepping out. Marmadukc Uhesterton, bowing low over her hand, pressed it to his lips as heassisted her to alight. "Do you see taat?" said Miss Dúchense. Cora burst into tears and hurried f rom the room, just as Miss Buckina:ham ontered from an opposite portal, all smiles, followed by Mr. Chesterton. "Where is Cora!"' said the brunette, airily. "I hope her headachü is better. We havo had such a delightful morning at the picture gallary, Duke and I. And we have brougut home some exquisite cat flowers to arrange for dinner. Where are they, Duke? Bring them here. I am suruCora will excuse us for invading her boudoir." But Miss Duchesne did not return the fair Ariadne's smiles. She gathered up her knitting. made some curt reply about desiring to be alone, and stalkod out of the rdom. "Uross oJd thing! ' pouted Anadue "One would alruost imagine. Duke, tha yon were her lover, and that she wa: jealous." She laughed a shrill, svveet twinklt of sound. Marmaduke Chestertor laughed, :ilso. All that Ariadne Buckingham did or said was peifeot in nis eyes. Miss Buckingharn's father had lost his all in untortunate ventures, and Ariadne hul been brought n on au income of nothing per aunum. Every one pitied poor Ariadne, who, nevertlicluss, was always exquisiieh dressed, wunt everysvhere, and lived. ïnetaphoriüally speaking, on the fat ot the land. She had writton to Cora Leslie, her mother s cousin, that she would like tc spend a winter in Piiiladelphni, and Cora, full of sweet, womanly compassion, had promptly sent aioney for her to come. "1 never had a sister," wrote Cora, "and i ani sure I shall love vou deurIv!" And it was thus that Ariadne had rewarded her. Tho old story over again, of the serpent who stings lts benefactor. But, although Cora had been blind, the restof the vvorld, like Miss Duchesne, were more clear sighted. Colonel Vavason, Mr. Chesterton's uncle, took him steruiy to task for his defection frum the line of equity. "Duke," said he, "I inay be a little old-fashioned, but all this looks to me likc a piece of firstclass villainy! Mis.s Leslie has neither father nor brother to inteifere in her bohalf. She is the jewel among women, and that Buckingham girl is a heartless flirt!" Duke laughed. "My dear uncle,(]"said he, "you take things too seriously ! Can not an engaged man so much as look at another watnan?' But one day, iu blossomy May,' Colonel Vavason's card was brought up to Miss Leslic. Cora was preparing to go out with Miss Duchesne for a drive. She was full of bright happiness that morning, and even Miss Duchesne brcathed more freely, for Ariadne Buckingham had lcft theni the night before, in responso - so at least she gave tbem to understand - to a teleerram from her father, who was ill. Tho nightmare dreani was over at last - all the worlil was May! She ran down into tho drawing room, whero Colonel Vavason leaned against the mantel, tall, palo and handsome. 'Oh, Colonel,'' she said briglitly, "I am so glad to see jou. Duke is coming at two o'clock lo - " But she paused as her eyes feil on his pale features, tho look of mute horror in his eyes. "Duke will never come here again," said he, in a low tone. Be a heroine, Cora. Bear your trouble bravely. Duke went away before daylight, He loft a noto asking me to teil you. He loves Ariadne Buchingham, and has followedher to her home!" And so Cora Leslie has closed tbc chapter of her first love - or, rather, Marmakuke Chesterton closed it for her. Of course there were plenty of people to pity hor with ostentatious sympathy, and plenty to 87 that they had prophesied it all along; plenty to comment on Cora's trusting blindness and Duko's smooth hypocrisy. But Cora held her own. valiantly. She was a little paler, perhaps; a little quieter. But the heart wound was too deep for any surfaco bleeding. And the world whispered, behindits jeweled fan: "How well she bears it!" At the end of a vear Marmoduke Chesterton came back. Ho was not married to Miss Buckingham after all. The beautiful brunette had aecepted his presents, smiled on him with thoso melting evos of hers, amused herself at his expense, and finilly wedded a younar Iioutenant of artillery, to whom she had been engagedforyears, andpoorDuke's eyes haa been summarily opened to the folly of his ways. He was pale and haggard as he stood therc in the boudoir, where he had íirst asked Cora Leslie to be his wife. But Cor was loveher than ever. As he looked at her he marveled frhat he eould c'er havecared tor one like Ariadno Buekingham. "Cora," he said in a broken voice, as she coraially gave him her hand, "can you over forgive me?" "Oh, yes she answered, smiïinè, "I forgave you long ago. And oh. how you must nave sufl'eied, Duke!" 'But," he went eagerly on, "I am disenohanted now. My eyes are oponed at last I knovv, now, that I never really lovod any one but you. Swoet Cora, is it too late to ask you to renew our engagement once more. "I am afraid it is," said Cora, still serenely self possessed and calm. "But why?" he urged. half maddened by suspense. "Óne reason," answered Cora, "is that I have long ceased tocare (except, of course, asa friend) for the man who loved Ariadne Buekingham better than me. The other is that I am to be married next week to Colonel Vavason." "To- my uncle?" "Yes, Duko," she answered serenely, "to your únele. I love and honor him as I never loved or honored man before!" So Marmaduke Chestorton lost both blonde and brunette, and Miss Du chesne was satisfied at last that her darling was worthily wedded. As for Cora she believes with the poet that: "There is a Providence that shapes our ends Rough hew them as we may 1" For did not that darksome path of pain and suffering lead into the swvet st sunshine at last?