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14 INTO MARVELOUS LIQHT SYNOPSIS. Julian Deveaux, a New York actor of bad personal character, goes South for rest and recreation, leav ing in New York a young preacher, John Marsden, who has become his friend. During the Southern trip Deveaux meets a family at Monteagle, Tenn., and becomes interested in the young daughter, Chris tiana. The father, John Douglas, is much attracted to the young actor, but the aunt, Mrs. Wayland, distrusts him, while the girl, Christiana, is too in experienced to feel any special interest in Deveaux apart from his skill in teaching her to paint. Deveaux confesses his love to Mr. Douglas, and attempts to win the girl with her father’s reluc tant permission. His progress, however, is so slight as almost to discourage him. (Continued from last week.) She could almost hear her own heart beat. She caught the back of her chair, for she felt faint. She had learned to respect and trust and admire him. Beyond that her emotions had not gone. Now so unexpectedly she knew that wonderful thing call ed love had been given to her. His composure as serted itself as he noted her confusion. With an as suring smile, he took her trembling hands into his own. Her blushes had flown, leaving her face whiter than he had ever seen it. “Do not be frightened, Annie. I would do noth ing, say nothing that would give you one moment’s displeasure, but may I tell you what you have be come to me?” As she made no reply, he was emboldened to con tinue, “You do not say me nay, Annie—sweetest name in all the world to me-—so I’ll tell thee a wee bit of what thou art to me. When I come into thy presence, it is as when the darkness of night is dispelled by the light of day. When the brightness of thy glorious eyes flash upon me, were I a marble statue, methinks ’twould warm the pulse of life within me. Were I some instrument, silent, save when touched by a musician’s hand, did the melody of thy voice but fall upon me. surely I should vi brate with notes of heavenly music. Though I lay before thee still in death, if thy hand but touched me with affection and thy voice called me with words of love, surely I should awaken and return from the unknown land. Thou art my inspiration, my life, my idol. My very soul seems to have left me and gone to thee. I am as a block of wax in a sculptor’s hand, to be moulded at thy will. With the constant light of thy love ami thy presence ever to guide me, I should feel inspired to overcome any obstacle, reach any goal, climb any height. Thy self forever denied me, my life is finished now. What wilt thou do with me, Annie? Wilt thou one day become my little wife, the queen of my home and the idol of my heart? Or dost thou send me away to utter despair?” Her lips quivered. Tears rolled down her cheeks, some falling upon their clasped hands. He kissed where the tears fell upon hers. The touch of his lips aroused her. She was not fully awakened to what was occurring until this moment. His impas sioned words had at last awakened her to love, but only in the abstract, she was in love with love itself, but not with Julian Deveaux. She exclaimed, “Stop, Mr. Deveaux, please stop! You make me more mis erable than I have ever been in my life. T am only a child. I could not fill the position of your wife. Let me go, dear master, please let my hands go.” And she struggled to be released from his clasp. “Oh, that you were my little girl-wife, Annie, darling, let me feel that you are mine just for one moment. Will you not say ‘yes,’ even if to last but a few seconds, in return for the love of my whole sc-d? I shall not hold it a binding promise. Say ‘yes,’ little sweetheart, and I shall go away, not to ’'eturn until you send for me or let me know in S' me way that you wish me back. Only give me one The Golden Age for April 5, 1906. By LLEWELYN STEPHENS. moment of joy after such a long, weary waiting, for I have loved you since the first time I saw you. Give me ‘yes,’ Annie.” “Yes,” she whispered. Instantly he caught her up to his heart, and kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyes, her curls with unspeakable tenderness, at intervals exclaiming, “My little wife, mine at last. This makes you mine, forever mine. At last! at last!” “No, no, no!” she exclaimed, struggling to free herself, now thoroughly frightened at his vehe mence. “My dear, dear master, I gave you no such liberty as you have taken. Please leave me at once.” Tremblingly she sank back into her chair. He calmed himself immediately, realizing that he had gone a step too far. Looking deeply peni tent, he said: “Forgive me, Annie, forgive me. I forgot all but my love for you.” “Please leave me,” she repeated. “Say you forgive mo, Annie, and I shall go at once. ’ ’ “I do not know. Do not question me now. I ask only to be left alone.” When he had gone she threw herself upon a lounge and was convulsed with a paroxysm of weeping. Thus her father found her when he entered the studio a few minutes later, and, between her sobs, drew from her what had just occurred. CHAPTER X. That evening Mr. Douglas called at Mr. Dev eaux ’s room at the Monteagle Hotel, and at once plunged into the subject uppermost in the minds of both men. “Well, Deveaux, you seem to have gotten yourself into trouble this morning. You are a genuine Frenchman in all that you do. You know we Southerners are accused of being hot-blooded, impulsive and all that sort of thing. But I declare, we don’t hold a candle to you. I am afraid you, have frightened our little girl entirely away. My dear fellow, you’ll have to be less impulsive in your love-making. ’ ’ “Great heavens, Mr. Douglas, have I not had the’ patience of Job all these long weeks? Never be trayed myself by word or action? I worship the child so, that when I found an opportunity to tell her, I did overstep the bounds of formality. I most humbly implored her pardon, and now I ask yours.” ’Tis granted, and I am most willing to assist you in any way that you may suggest. But your discre tion must aid you in being more careful in the fu ture; I warn you.” “Well, let me suggest that we change the routine of affairs. Have her make her debut in Monteagle society. There are some nice people attending the Chautauqua. Let her see and associate with other men. We will arrange picnics and excursions to the many picturesque spots surrounding Monteagle. I have some charming friends here in my hotel, and shall have them assist me in getting some delight ful affairs up. I shall invite some of the college men over from the university at 'Suwanee. “An excellent idea, but I don’t know how sister will agree to Christiana’s making her debut at sev enteen. I should not hear to it myself in any other circumstances, and for any other man but you, Jul ian.” A most delightful affair was given at the Mont eagle Hotel on the occasion of Christiana’s debut, followed by many entertainments of varied charac ter during the remainder of the Chautauqua sea son. Deveaux never again so much as hinted at his love, but was equally attentive to other young la dies, and threw other men with Christiana upon every occasion. She was deeply appreciative of his many delicate attentions, and he was nearer to winning her than he could possibly have done in any other way. The painting lessons continued, the portrait was finished. Even Mr. Deveaux, himself, was pleased with the portrait. The two men constantly discuss ed their, hopes and plans. Everything was arranged for moving to New York in October. Until definite plans were made, Mr. Douglas had only intimated to grandfather and grandmother Bennett his decision. When the startling announcement was made, it caused a funeral wail from Mrs. Bennett. She pre dicted misfortunes and disasters beyond description. Again she bewailed the day her Mary married James Douglas. She bewailed Christiana’s raising, she bewailed everything. But Mr. Douglas was fully decided. His cottage was advertised for rent. The day of departure even had been chosen a week later. What really occurred within that week, Jul ian Deveaux attributed to inexplicable fate. Mr. Douglas was sketching on Table Rock one afternoon, just after a rain. As he stepped near its outer edge, his foot slipped, and he was precipitated upon the sharp rocks thirty feet below, causing fatal injuries. Some sight-seers near heard his groans. A physician* was immediately summoned, a stretcher was brought, and he was carried into his home as one dead. When revived from the effect of the opiate given him, he looked about him with the first light of consciousness, and his eyes fell upon Christiana and Deveaux. “My daughter, my son, I have but a few hours to live. To die content I must see my little one with a protector, a father, a husband to take my place. Clasp your hands in mine, both of you, and tell me, darling, are you willing- it should be so?” Deveaux put his arm about her, and with all the tenderness of his sou], asked, “Annie, may it be so?” She laid her hands in his, and he placed them be tween the outstretched ones of Mr. Douelas. “I shall now die happy, when I’ve heard the vow made before God. Hasten a minister that the vows may be sealed.” “Not to-day, father; God will not take you to day. I cannot do it to-day. Wait till to-morrow.” Mrs. Wayland, grandfather and grandmother Ben nett, the doctors and others stood around the bed side. This dying request fell upon them like a thun derbolt. None of them had suspected Mr. Deveaux’s intentions. Mrs. Wayland sat as one paralyzed. Julian Deveaux immediately telegraphed John Marsden to come on the first train, saying, “It is a case of life and death.” He came the following morning, and on alight ing from the train anxiously asked, “Well, Julian, for what sad mission have you called me?” “I have called you to marry me.” “To marry you! I thought you said it was a mis sion of life and death!” “So it is. My little darling’s father is dying, and requested the ceremony to be performed before he died. We must hasten. His time is very short! Come! ’ ’ “But, Julian, I must ask, what does your getting married mean ? Are you, the man that you are, mar rying a good, pure woman?” “If angels exist in this hell of a world, John, she is one. And I am a different man than when I left you. Not once have I given way to my deadly drug since I looked upon her face. Not once have I given away to my hellish moods. You can’t im agine the influence she has over me until you see her. Then you will not be surprised.” “But, Julian, I must know what you have done with Ariane Bouvier?” Nothing.” “What are you going to do with her?” “What is that to you, John?” “It is my duty as a minister of a just and holy God to refuse to wed an innocent woman to an un faithful husband. It is my duty to tell this dying father to what manner of man he is giving his