The Fate She Didn't Escape

'No. Pap:i Marl yn, 1 am not going to look at hia picture. His name is enough to condenan him- lelix Cuinten 1 know jnsl how he looks; a slim, Frenoh dandy, witli a black mustache, waxed al the ends, verv white teetli and very black eyes; aml he has a fashion of'bowing a great deal and ot shruo'o'in"1 his shoulders!" Lois Jttartyn pusuuu n-u-v ''■" letter, which incloscd Félix Quinten s photograph, across the table to Mr. Martyn, who lauehed quietly at lus daaehter's spirited description. "Ton hardly do the young rnan juslice, Lois." . , T "You must bc prejudiced, papa. 1 nm snrnrised that you should want me to marry this foreigner, whora I havo never seen, and I am surprised at lus want of delicacy in planning to visit ns Just to appraiso my good and bad qtialities, as if I were a piece of furmture, or- ahorse." Mr Afart.vn frowned sligntly. "Nonsense, Lois. You are taking an exaggerated view of the matter. Félix Quinten is a fine young man. He speaks as good English as you do, though he is French by birth. He is coming here at my cordial invitation, and it is merely the desire of my heart that you should be mutually pleased. I know of no young man to whom 1 would so gladly intrust your happiness; but that rests with you. One tlung I shaü expeci 01 juu, ". "&- - and the nominal mistress of my house - a courteous and hospitable reception of our guest. " ' ';' Mr. Martyn poeketed Quinten s letter drew on his overcoat, took his hat, and kissing his willful girl on one cheek, went away. tj ï-ri i,ür toniiprlv - inis less daughter of bis; her wildest pranks had been forgiven or laughed at by him, and since her return from boarding school, a year before, they had been very happy together. She was just nineteen; a tall. graceful, bright-faced eirl, with scornful red lips and big hazel oyes, and a quantity of nnt-brown hair whiüh curled in little oft ringlets over lier forehead. She was the veriest child yet in many respeots, and after her father's uro ior iiis uiiiuu, 011 piiviviM ""f"' ately over a dozen impracticable plans forevading "that Frenchman," as in hcr miad she temed hito; for, with a woman's perversity, she had at once dccided that the strangev would prove most disagreeablo, and that to stay at home and entertain hini for a month was not to be thought of. Ui a sudaen, a wiia mea íiasuw through her brain; so wild that her eyes dilated, and she caught her breath with a little gasp at the boldness of it. And then a mischievous smile awoke a ravishing dimple in one eheek, as, atarting írom lier chair, she took a reckless pirouette down the long room, endingwith a flirt that sent one rosetted-slipper flyins: from a daintv foot. Til do it!" slïe declared, with a defiant nod at her reflection in the glass. 'My name is Norval! On these Granapian halls, my father feeds his flocks - Frcnch flocks, at tüat! But as ior me, give me liberty or give me death! Papa will forgive me after it is all over- he alwaysdoes!" So it happened that a week later, when Mr. Martyn brought Félix Quinten into the pleasant and luxurious parlor, which seemed so conifortable after the keen night air of the December streets. that the old colored servant, who had been with them for years, met her master with these words: "Please, sir, Miss Lois went away this morning. She left this note, and said as how it would be all nght," And Aunt Frony curtsied and left the room. Mr. M:rtyn gave his guest a chair, and opened the note with an ominous frown gathering over his kindly face. As he unisneu ít, ne stroue u iu young Quinten and extended tbc open sheet toward him. "There, Félix, it is useless for me to endeavor to apologize for my willful girl. Read her note." And Quinten read as follows: "Darling Papa- Do torgive me. I have made up my miud to run away from Mr. Félix Quinten, lor the tliougtitof playing the uble to mm lor a wnoie mouiu ib penecuv uubearable. You can bo as niee to Mm as you likc, and you know Aunt Frony wlll have cverything in good ehape. I am off for Unc-le David's; so ilon't worry about me. I'll eome home when Mr. Quinten has returnedto his native land. Your loviug Lois." Félix Quinten laid his head back in his chair, and laughed out in such a rollickingfashion, thatMr. Martynlaughcd in svmpatny. "Who is Únele David?" queried the voung man, at last. "Her dead mother's brother, who keeps a light house on a lonely, rocky beadland on the coast of Maine. David and his wife set the world by the girl; but think of her spending a month in that ionely place, m me uiaiu 01 wmwr, with those two old people for cornpany !' ' Quinten mused for a moment smilinglv, and then he said: " "Mr. Martyn, I will go af ter her." "You, Felix?" "Yes listen to my plan." Mr. Martyn drew a chair to that of the yonng man's, and listened with some astonishment and much amusement to his proposition. It was a clear, cold, wintry night. The Ionely sea-coast looked wild ancl romantic enough in the bright starlight. The liglit m the tower at Black Head made a bnght pathway upon the DlacK, rcstless waters, dotted here and therc with floating fragmenta of ice. A desolate wind moaiied about the ragged rocka sorrowfnlly. A small boat came dancing up the pathway of light, and the two occupants peered eagerly forward. "There's Black Head, Mr. Quinten- there's my home!" said Üaele David, a smile breaking over his rugged face, as he pointed out the little stono house crouching at the foot of the towër. "I am glad eiough to see it, Mr. Barton; but pray remember that for i 1m time my name is Cheney.oryou'llbutmy me." as lie brought his boat skillfully up to the woodep pier belöw the lighthouse. "l'll not forget " The younger man shrugged his shoulders expressively as he steppei ashore and waited for Únele David lo f asten the boat. The rocky headland jutted into the sea. Back of the tower and the lightkeejser's house was a swanlp oí desolatí country, snow-covered, and niarkec here añd there by a clump of cedar 01 spruce trees. Half a mile or more across the watei was Pine Head, where, during the pre ceding summer, granite had been quar ried. But the long sheds were deserted nou and the great boarding house closed atu solitary. There was no sound save the wail of the wind and the eternal beat o the waves apon the ledges. ■ J.ois Martyn was spreading the tabl íor tea in thè cheery kitchen of the lit tle stone house when Únele David cntered with a yonng man. He was rather abovc the medium heigbt, inll-chestcd and straight-limbed. His hair was black, and waved loosely about a handsonie head, and hig oyes were intensely bluo under tiieir long, black lashes. A long ïnoustacbe showed a golden brown in the lipht. He was dvcsscd in a snit of roughgray pression as he halted just within the door, cap in hand, and ulster over nis arm, for Únele David to introduce him. "This is Mr. CEeney, mothor, and Lois. My wife, Mr. Chenoy, and my niece, Miss Lois Martyn. This yaung man wants to stop with ns awliilc, mother. He is sent down here by the Coast Stttrey, on particular business. I calcúlale we can accommodatie him." Yes, indeed! hospitable Aunt Nancy Hpflarfifl. Thev could aceommodatt: him if he conUl put u]) witli their poor faro. And so the stranger was made one ol them at once. A ,. T ïti ilimrli ttlio Vfltt llil timents to herself, she was hearlily glad of anything to break the monotony of lift' at Black Hoad, for, in pite of the kindness of the old people, it was rat her lonely there, and the vveather had been too severe to allow her to accompanj Únele David on any of his trips to the city, ten miles distánt in an open boat. This Mr. uneney was inu muat jcimüing of men. She liad not a wide experiencc, this nineteen-year-old hcroine of mino. Ho was at once so gay and gracelul, so brave, and tender, and chivalrous, and sliowcd saeh positivo talent for making thé days pass pleasantly, that we may not wonder at the girrsenthrallment. Blaok Head seemed a veritable dise to her. The littlo stone house, where so many happy houw were spent, would be foreverglorifïecl. The qunmt, octao-on shaped room at the top of the lightLonse tower, frora which they had watched the vast expanse of waters, wliile he had related marvelous stories of strang-e oountrios- would she ever think of it without a happy smile? l?ut, bless you! she treated this Mr. Chenev to all sorts of raoods. She queened it oVer him ngïïï royalTy onc day, and the next treated him with the utmost indiíi'eivnw Thcn for a while she would be like a child for frankness and sweetness. All the time slie flattered herself that no one guessed hor secret; all the timE she dreadedher father's summons to return: and all the time Mr. Chency hmnorcd her patiently, and awaited the crisis. It carne just a week before Clinstmas. Únele David and Mr Chenev, returning from a trip to the city, brought a letter from Mr. Miirtyn to Lois, which rpiifl as follows: "Mr. Quinten did not stay as long as I expectcd. You mav come home ncnv, in time to e&i a Christmas dlnncr with Papa. So, after tea, Lois told Mr. Chency that shc was going homo. She lookocl very serious, aud jer vtneer lip quivered a little as she spoko. werc alone in the sittinír-room, and the yoyng man sealed birneelf 011 a she sat, and laid one smooth, shapely hand over hers. There pras no niistaking the tender smile inhis eyes. "Lois," hc"said, viitly, "I wam yon to take mo home with you, that I may ask Mr. Marlyn l'or liis little girl, to have and to hold {rom this time forward. Wil! you, Loiá?" And Lois answered, meekly enough: "Yes." . ' ■o, ,■ 11-iinn n 'A lifivi"1 kii;((i 1101' lips she held him back with one slim hand "Mr. Cheney- " "My name is Foli.x," lie corrected, with laughing éyeS. "Felix!" she said, looking; at him m some confusión. "That is the name of that Frenchman whora papa broüght home to sce me - Félix Quinten!" "Dearlittle love!" eried the young man, sinkinj upon his knees, and clingino- to her skirts as she arose, "I beg df 'yon. don't annihüate me; I am ieli2i Quinten! Yon ran awayfrom me. I had seen your picture, and had a fellin;; thut you we re the wife I wanted: so J am here." "I will nevèr mam' you - nevër! criedLois, passkmately", hör eyes iilled with angry tears, as sho endeavorud to free herself. Quinten was upon his feet now, and would not let her go. "Lois," hesaid,gravely, ly. "you love mo. Hush! WhysnouM yo deny it? Ii ever aman tried honestly and natiently to win. a woman's heart , I .have tried to win yours; and 1 will not let you go so casily. Do not bc . angry with me, sweethem-t," he added. coaxingly, as he wiped the teurs from her eyes, anJ kissed her quivcringjips. Lois ceased to struggle. She did love him, though he was Fehx Quinten; and by the time Únelo David carne in to teil tow it had been a little plot between Mr. Martyn, Quinten, and himself, Lois was ready to join in the laugli against lier, umougn sne suook om' 'list threatingly at her lover. And it was rather a prestfallen little damsol, even though a happy one, who returned to Papa Martyn witli the very man from whom she had run away.