Geoffrey's victory;

by Mrs. Georgie Sheldon

Mrs. Mapleson gave a violent start at this; a light broke over her face, which instantly became crimson, then grew as suddenly white.

“We became very fond of each other,” her husband proceeded, without noticing her emotion, “and we were together day after day, week after week, playing ball, hoop, battledore and shuttlecock, sailing our boats together on the stream which feeds the pond that used to run the old mill, riding horseback together—in fact, were scarcely separated from the beginning of my stay until its end. It was always the same every time I came; I always sought my charming little companion on the day of my arrival, and gave her my last good-by when I went away.

“This went on for several years, until I grew to love her with all the strength of my young heart, and I fondly believed she returned my affections, although she was so modest and shy that she never betrayed it, at least after she grew to womanhood, save by evincing pleasure and a sort of trustful content in my society.

“There came a time when I resolved to confess my feelings toward her and learn if possible if she returned them, but before the time for my visit arrived that year, Uncle Jabez died and everything was changed. This uncle,” said Colonel Mapleson, glancing from Mr. Huntress to Geoffrey, “made a very singular will—a very arbitrary and unnatural will. He divided the whole of his property, which was very large, into two portions, one of which he bequeathed to me, the other to his niece, Miss Estelle Everet, who is now my wife—upon the condition that we would marry each other. He gave us until Miss Everet would be twenty-five to make up our minds; if we both refused to comply with his wishes at the end of that time, and each married some one else, the whole fortune was to go to a certain Robert Dale, who was first cousin to our uncle. If either of us died during that time, such an event would free the other party and he or she would inherit the fortune thus left; if either married during that time the same result was to follow. I was at that time in my twenty-first year, Miss Everet was seventeen.

“You can perhaps imagine something of my feelings upon learning the contents of this will. I had always expected to inherit a share of my uncle’s property, for I was a favorite with him, and he had hinted that I was to be his heir; but I had never dreamed of being hampered with any such arbitrary conditions. I was very indignant. So was my cousin, for, although we had always been the best of friends, we felt that this was a matter in which we should have been left free to choose for ourselves. However, the property was divided between us, and we found ourselves independent. I was an orphan, and had been entirely dependent on my uncle; I had just completed my education, and was thinking of establishing myself in some business, when I suddenly awoke to the fact that I was rich and could live as I chose, provided, at the expiration of eight years, I would marry the woman my uncle had chosen for me. But I loved Annie Dale, and I knew I could not marry any one else while my heart belonged so entirely to her. I became so wretched and unhappy over my situation, while at the same time I could not make up my mind to part with my newly acquired fortune, that I could not come here to Vue de l’Eau to live, where I should have to meet her constantly: so I had the house closed and started off on a trip through the West.

“During my wanderings I went to New Mexico, where I heard the most wonderful stories regarding the wealth of the Morena Mines. A bright idea suddenly came to me. I would invest in them—I would throw myself in the business of mining during the next few years; if what I had heard was true I could easily double, perhaps treble, what money I put into them before I should have to give up my fortune according to the conditions of my uncle’s will—the money thus earned would be legitimately mine. I could then make over to my cousin my share of Jabez Mapleson’s fortune, and be in a comfortable situation to marry the girl I loved.

“Inspired with enthusiasm over this idea, I bought largely in the Morena Mines, and then bent all my energies toward the one object of my life. The first three years I was very successful, and if my luck continued, I knew that by the end of another three I might snap my fingers over Jabez Mapleson’s will, and secure the wife of my choice. But just at this time a terrible temptation presented itself to me.

“Annie Dale’s mother had been a widow for several years. Her husband was a cousin of my uncle’s, and when Mr. Dale died, leaving his wife and child destitute, Uncle Jabez had given them the use of a small cottage on his estate and increased the small annuity, which Mrs. Dale possessed, to a sum that enabled them to live comfortably with economy. Afterward, when Annie grew older, they opened a small private school, and, having succeeded in securing all the pupils they could accommodate, they declined receiving further aid from him. They lived very poorly and meagerly, however, and it galled me to see their poverty; so, upon coming into possession of the estate, I took advantage of their absence on a visit at one time, and had the cottage thoroughly repaired and newly furnished in a style to suit myself. Mrs. Dale was almost inclined to be angry with me for this, saying it was far too elegant for their position in life; but the deed was done, and I laughingly told her it was only a poor return for all the trouble I had given her as a boy, when I tracked her spotless floors with my muddy boots, and depleted her larder with my rapacious appetite, as, day after day, I shared Annie’s lunch.

“But I am getting away from the temptation of which I began telling you, which came to me after I had been three years in the mines. Annie’s mother died very suddenly after an illness of only a week, and I did not learn of the fact for nearly two months afterward. I wrote at once to Annie, begging her to choose some elderly companion and remain where she was—to consider the cottage still her home and accept aid from me until I could return and make some permanent arrangement for her. I told myself that if I could only keep her there in seclusion for a couple of years longer, I should then be in a position to return and ask her to become my wife. But in a cool, dignified letter she refused my request, telling me that her plans for the future were already made, and that she was on the eve of leaving for Richmond, where she was going to remain with an old nurse, until she could obtain a position as governess in some family.

“For a week after receiving this letter I fought a terrible battle with myself. I could not endure the thought of that delicate girl going out in the world to toil for the bread she ate. On the other hand, if I yielded to my own desire, and asked her to marry me, it would doom her to a life of hardship almost as severe, for I could only make over my share of Uncle Jabez’s fortune to my cousin at a sacrifice that would leave me almost a beggar. I could not force a sale of mining interests without losing nearly all that I had made during the last three years. I was nearly distracted, and I imagined a thousand evils and dangers that might result from Annie becoming a governess. Not only would such a life be a burdensome and disagreeable one, but, worse than that, she was liable to meet some one who would be attracted by her beauty and sweetness—some one who would win her, and thus I should lose her.