His Two Loves

Two, and Montague Garthorn loved ;hem both. It does not seem possible, nevertheless it is true ; and, stranger still, they both loved him. He was not worthy oí half the good things the fates jhowered on him with such la visa hands; mt who in this world ever get their deserts ? It is a thoroughly false theory hat virtue brings its own reward ; long ago it might, bilt now iWfcertaíníy does lot, or Opal Garthorn 6 lif e would have )een happier. As long as Opal could remember she had worshipped her cousin Montague. As a chüd he was ïer hero, and as she grew up her chief delight was to be noticed by him. When she "came out," and he seemed o take pieasure in being with her, her oy knew no bounds ; and at length when he asked her to be his wife, she could hardly realize that the dream of ïer life had come to pass, and he feit as f ho could not do enough to show his ore for the beautiful girl who had )romised to marry him. Montague Garthom was well off, and, lis parents being both dead, he had )ecome a "spoilt child" ín all his relaions' households ah.d aiany a Mistress Garthora had been anxious to catch this exoelieiit parfi for her daughter. Great was the surprise of the Garthorns generally when it was knowïi that he intended making hia distant cousin Opal lúa wife. Opal's love for him was so unselfish, so womanly (and how much deeper is a womaa's love than a man's can possibly e !). When I say she loved him with ïer whole heart, better than life, my words seem cold and passionless, and cannot convey the meaning of her devotedness. When he asked her to marry him soon he would not listen to him, but stipulated br another year of freedom, because ' he might see some one he liked beter," and with whom he would be more ïappy. Her delight consisted in seeing ïini happy, so she said, and so she meant, co doubt ; but really she feit such oonfidence in his entire devotion, and judged him so much by herself, that he neyer for a moment realized the idea of his loving any one but her. Monague Garthorn conaidered that if he unlerstood ono Ihing thoroughly, that one .hing was hiinself ; so he vas annoyed t her doubting him even in this loving way, and he resolved to prove that no woman of lures and wiles could inilunce him when he had the assurance of Opal's love. Opal was standing at the drawingoom window, gazing into the twilight br her lover, while her mother and ather chatted together. At last she ïears his footstep on the stairs, and they re together. " Opal, will you go to the theater toaight ? I have promised to meet Archer here." "Must you go, Montie "Well, dear, I think must; but won't you come?" Opal does not want to go, and she loes not want him to go without her ; )ut before she has time to make up her mind what ans?er to give, her mother ettles the question by saying she "cannot allow Opal to go, as she is tired with a day's shopping." Montague remained a few minutes onger, then rose to take his leave. Opal vas dull, feit a leaden weight at her ïeart. What for? - surely not because ïer lover was going to meet a man at the ;heater. Nevertheless she could not hrow the gloom off, an4 as she bade iim good-by tears rose to her eyes and eemed to tremble in her voice; so much o that even Montie, the most unobservant of men, noticed them, and was more affectionate in manner. "You are tired, Opal, my child; goto bed, dear." "It is not that, Montie; but I feel as f I was losing you; as if this was to be our last good-by." "Nonsense!" and with another kiss ie was gone; while Opal gazed on him or the last time - at least saw for the ast time the man who loved her as he oved no other woman. Mr. Garthorn sauntered leisurely along, intending to take a hansom down .o the Strand, when he remembered that as he was alone he might cali for Archer at his lodgings. Instead of taking a cab, he resolved to go by train to Gower street, where his friend lived. If Opal only knew what would come of that little railway journey np earthiy power would ïave prevented her going with Montie o the theater. He was thinking it was a bother to go to the play, as it was sure o be hot, and it would havo been mueh cooler in the back drawing-room with Opal. Here his thought'i were interrupted and the carriage door was opened, and a young girl pushed in. A girl with magnetic golden hair that seemed to make a halo round her head, and saucer jlue eyes, and a mouth like a Oupid's 30w. Nellie Wylde, the second woman who loved Montagvie Garthorn, met him now for the first time, with her bright aby-face covered with blushes, and with ïer tiny hands held out to him to help ïpr lift on to the seat a large pareel BÜe mi i with her. "HMiOT fttffl HtffÖ Iwugut at Westbourne Grove," she told hira, "and I am going to sit up to mako it to go to aball." He was eharmed with the simplicity of the child, as lie considered lier, and condescendingly asked her her age. " Seventeen, soou," sJie answered. And then all the color aeemed to die out of her cheeks and leave her very pale. He watched her for some time and then her merry Voioe broke Ms rêverie by saying; " I have been i 11; this is the flrst time I haie been out. Father would scarcely let me come; but I wanted my dress so much;" and then, without waiting f oi'any remark froin Mr. Garthona, sho asked if lie had ever beon to a ball, and what they were like. "Yes, child, many. Good-by. This is ray station." " It is mine-, too," NoUio answered. " and fathei: eaid he would meet me and carry my parcel home." Wliat less could Montague do than assist her to alight and carry her parcel up-stairs ? and then, not finding any one waiting for her, he could not do less than offer to carry it home. And in that liltle walk how his heart went out to this child, who had not an idea beyond the moment's pleasure, who found life so bright, although her father kept a chemist's shop in a back street and let lodgings 1 Why not leave her a9 she is-, happy, youiig, heart-wliolej áhd iii smooth Water ? Why fdrce her into Btormy weather, wheh she is now so safe? But already the harm is done, and Montague is fascinated fatally by this child, in whose nature there is no depth, and who could never feel anything, whether of pain or joy, with half the keenness that Opal cau The beautdfal blue eyes look without flincliiiig into his, as siie warbles forth an invitation to come and have supper. ' ' We are not grand ; we only have watercresses in the shop-parlor." He goes in, and Nellie Wylde's father thanks him, and the back parlor ís paradise, the watercresses food for the gods, the theater forgotten ; and as he looks at and listens to Nellie) Üpal in tlie cool back drawing-roOm, has become a thing of the past. ''Wliat ball are you going to, Miss Wylde?" 4 ' At Aunt Mary's ; their first floor is empty, and they are going to have a dance. Cali me Nellie- every one does ; it seems too up to cali me Miss Wvlde." " Thafc is not a real ball ; but if you would like to go to one of the best halls in London, I will take you to Willis' Booms to-morrow night." "Oh, father, say 'Tes,'" said Ñell, as she threw her arms round kis neok. " I don't know what is right to say," ruminated Mr. Wylde ; " only as you have very little pleasure and no mother, perhaps it would not be any harm." So it was settled that beautiful, bright Nellie was to make her flrst entry into London society. Montague at last tore himself away from the enchanted chemist's shop. Now came the time to think - to üvllik of what he had done, Qï conrse, it was too lí.tG o go to the theater ; in f act, everything seemed too late, now that the door of Mr. Wylde's house was shut. What had he done ? Promised to take Nellie to a ball, and he WaS engaged to go to a diilner-party with Opal ! What should he do ? Go home, and inake the best of his dilemma. Next morning, Montague knew something must be done ; so he got his writing materials, and intended to write to Nellie to.tell her he could not take her to tho ball ; but directly he began,the visión of those blue eyes ñlled with tears, and that smiling mouth pouting, was too mueh for him, so he changed his inind, 'and wrote briefly to Opal ' ' that unf oreseen circumstances prevented hiin going out to dinner with her to-morrow. Opal is so good-nntured, sho won't mind." He thought little of her breaking heart, though he thought so mucb. of tearful blue eyes. NelÜe and Mr. Garthorn went to the ball and enjoyed it. Nellie looked lovely in her fresh white muslin dress and Montague 's gift of real ílowers. When he le.ft her at home, he longed for the moment when he should see her next. On his return, he found a letter from Opal, full of tender regrets at his absence, and assurances of her love. He resolved never to see Nellie again, and to marry Opal as soon as possible. How easy it is to make resolutions at night, and how diflicult to carry them out in the broad dar ! The following afternoon, Mr. Garthorn cilled at Opal's, and left his card, forhe found her out. Then what more natural than he should see how Nellie was after her dissipation ? He found her at home, beautiful, blushing, charming, full of gratitude for thè pleasure of the ball, and winning as only those childish women with big blue eyes can be. Her father was in the shop ; so they were alone, and before Montague knew what he was he had avowed his passion to Nelke, and she had confessed that she was "very fond of hinx and of balls at Willis's rooms." Opal, driving in the Park, was straining her eyes tö see the beloved form of Montague Garthorn among the crowd of men leaning over tho raüings. Day after day Mr. Garthorn spent with Opal, and evening after evening with Nellie. Opal was so sweetly kind to him, sang and played for him, declared thai something must be wrong, and besought him to have confldenco in her and to teil her his trouble. In reply, he kissed her, told her not " to worry, and that she was a foolish girl." And directly his duty visit was over, he rushed to Nellie 's house, where she met him with bright eyes, merry repartee, and kitten like caresses. Shereailywas verv lovable ; and it was no wonder that this man, who so loved being made much of, fancied she was more worthy of such love as he he had to give than the woman who would have died for him. Tnings could not last much longer like this. Opal wondered why he did not come of au evening, and asked him to spend the following Monday with her, as she would be alone. He could not refuse, so all day Sunday he spent with Nellie wandering about Kensington Gardens ; then to church with Mr. Wylde, and a delightful Bohemian supper in the shop-parlor. Afterward came the good-night ; and Montague told Nellie he could not come the following day, because he had to see a cousin of his ; and then he went on to say that these happy days must end, as he was goiug away for a long time, and would only como once more to say goodby. The blue eyes fillod with tears; the tiny hands rnstled up into the air, and with a wild gcreani she threw herself upon the stairs, sobbiug, "Montje, you can not, shall uot loav Ou üariing, iBiiwi." " Hut you say yon lovotl me " " God knows how niuck, my darling ; but I must leave you, for I ana in houor bound to marry my cousin Opal." Nellie didnot receive tliis announc"ment liaughtily, with pilde, or with despair, but threw herself down at Montague Garthorn's feet, sobbing piteously, " You shall never marry lier - the proud lady you show me in the park ; but me, your owii loving Ncllte; who worehips you with a devotion shecan never feel I" " I do believe you love me best, my golden wig," he exclaimed, ashe oaugut lier in his arms and kissed her, promising to cali again soon. Nellie was immediately comforted, and before he had got to the end of the street she was singing to lierself as she cleared the supper-th'ngs itwa'. On Móliday, Opal dressed lierself in the dress Montague admirod, ordered the dishes for dinner he preferred, and made up her mind to try and win kim back, remembering the words of one of our greatest writers, that "revi ved love is the strongest." He camo in determined to make the evening'pleasant to öpal, even to confesa to her his flirtation with Nellie - to teil her that he had rooted it up, and was rcady to come back to her more devoted thanever; but Opal looked so strong in her self-possession, so passionlesst eo Unsympathic, that tile image of Nellie rêcurr'ed to him as he saw Mer last in her attitude of worship at his feet. "Montie, why are you so strange? Does anything worry you, dear ?" "Nothing." " But I am sure it does. Have I anything to do with it ?" "No," ' Önly reinember, Montague, if there is anythiing in the world I can do for you I will." "Would you, really, Opal?" and a gleam of hope came into his face, and for the moment he feit inclined to teil her all; aud then, if only she had come toward him inBtead of going to the window, he would have. made a clesu breast of iti and Saed: itellië and himse r sorrowf ui fortnight. Opal orossed the room, not eve u Iooking at him, and, with her eyes iixed on the street, she said: "Montague, even if you love another woman better than me I can bear it, and give you up so readily - for your happiness;" and she turned and smiled one of her brightest smiles at him. " I am but poor company to-night ; so good-bye." And bef ore she oould cali him back he was gone. " How little she cares for me 1" he thought, w"hile she was caring for him more than her life-, For a fortnight Mr. Garthorn saw neither girl. He was selSshly unhappy ; he was in that state of niirid that he did not know what to üo heit. Se wished some one would take his destiny from him, and make him do somëthing. Every day he thought more of Nellie and less of Opal. The latter wrote him a kind note, hoping he was not ill ; sbould papa come and see him ? iiciue wrote naad letters, beseeching turn to come or she would die. She was iïl ; she was pale ; she really was dying. She should never see him more if he did not oomp, He sat down to ahswer these tetters, and feit relieved when they were finished. Opal received hersby the last post, and directly she saw the well-known writing she took it up tó hei1 room to read it alohe. It was only a short note, and she perceived it was in a school-girl hand. It ran thus : ' ' Own Daelinq Montie : Your brokenhearted golden wig is pale, ill, languid, and dying. If you dou't seo her eoon it will be too late, and you can only putflower in lier ooftin, and bid her a laat adieu. Do, do, do, come to your ioving Nellie." The address was in f uil on the letter, and in one moment Opal saw it all. How Mr. öarthofn had sent her this letter by mistake ; how this letter was from some one to him ; and she realized that in in truth he had found some one whom he loved more, and consequeutly wouJd make him happier, ner resolution was made. Her love was no uso if it was selfish. Noxt morningshe wrote to Montague, asking for a moment's conversntion that afternoon. Then she went to Nellie's home. She rather wondered at the appearance of the house, but fancied the lady míght only be staying there. Blooming, blue-eyed Nell opened the door, and Opal asked for Nellie. "Why, I am Nellie. "What do you want ? " " I want you to come home with me. Mr. Garthom will be at our house this afternoon." "Will he, really? Then he has not given me up, as father said. And I was so unhappy, because he had gone away from me to marry his cousin." " Never mind about the cousm, Nellie. He loves yoii, and you only ; and now you will see him very soon." "I must put on a pretty dress to see him in, Miss " "Garthorn." " Oh, you are his sister. How kind of him to send for me ! " and she trotted away to try and smooth her golden hair. When Opal arrived home with Nellie she hurried her into the drawing-room, and waited herself outside the door until she heard Montague coming up. Then she brought him into the room, saying, "Montie, uear, I have brought your little Nellie to you. You see I have found out your secret, and am so glad to make you happy. Goocr-bye for the present. And with a ringing laugh Opal ran up stairs, only to throw herself on her bed in a paroxysm of grief. In the drawing-room Montague Garthorn was supremely happy with the woman who he deemed loved him best.