Part 19 (2/2)
She went into another apartment and returned with a velvet case and a richly enchased casket She opened the case and took out several rolls of parchment
”Here they are, s”
Cecil unrolled them with a scholar's tenderness Their touch thrilled hiain soo
The parche entirely unknown to hiins ornaazed on the scrolls, as one who loves ht look at a sonata of Beethoven or an opera of Wagner, and be ested melodies
”I cannot read it,” he said a little sadly
”Sometime I will teach you,” she replied; ”and you shall teach e, and ill talk in it instead of this wretched Indian tongue”
”Tellat the unknown lines
”Not now, there is so much else to talk about; but I will to-morrow”
To-morrow! The word pierced hi barbarians, for her, the betrothed of a savage chief, thepresent was all they could hope for For them there could be no to-morrow Wallulah, however, did not observe his dejection She had opened the casket, and now placed it between theether on the divan One by one, she took out the contents and displayed thes, brooches, jewelled bracelets, flashed their splendor on hireat value, she showed thes, showed them as artlessly as if they were but pretty shells or flowers
”Are they not bright?” she would say, holding theht ”How they sparkle!”
One she took up a little reluctantly It was an opal, a very fine one
She held it out, turning it in the light, so that he low and pale
”Is it not lovely?” she said; ”like sun-tints on the snow But my mother said that in her land it is called the stone of s trouble with it”
He saw her fingers tremble nervously as they held it, and she dropped it froht poisonous thing she dreaded to touch
After a while, when Cecil had sufficiently admired the stones, she put them back into the casket and took it and the parch herself, looked at hihts on your s me sunshi+ne must not carry a shadow on his own brow Why are you troubled?”
The trouble was that he realized now, and was coentle, clinging girl, with a passionate love; that he yearned to take her in his arery before her; and that he felt it could not, must not be
”It is but little,” he replied ”Every heart has its burden, and perhaps I have mine It is the lot of ue uneasiness; her susceptible nature responded di by force of will to shut up in his own heart
”Trouble? Oh, do I not kno bitter it is! Tell me, what do your people do when they have trouble? Do they cut off their hair and blacken their faces, as the Indians do, when they lose one they love?”
”No, they would scorn to do anything so degrading He is counted bravest who rief and yet always cherishes a tender remembrance of the dead”
”So would I My mother forbade me to cut off my hair or blacken h so so And your people are not afraid to talk of the dead?”