Ad %, X. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V ^A /. A (/x (/.. 1.0 [f I.I 1.25 IM 12,5 '- ^ lllll t 1^ 2.2 2.0 1.8 i-4 lllll 1.6 m ^ /a o ei. a 7 '/ >^ Photographic Sciences Corporation # iV #> V "9) .V ;v <^ >> % v^ '9.'- 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Features of this copy which may be bibliographically unique, which may alter any of the images in the reproduction, or which may significantly change the usual method of filming, are checked below. L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les ddtaiis de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la mdthode normale de filmage sont indiqu4s ci-dessous. Q Coloured covers/ Couverture de couleur □ Coloured pages/ Pages de couleur I I Covers damaged/ D Couverture endommagie Covers restored and/or laminated/ Couverture restaurde et/ou pellicul6e I I Cover title missing/ Le titru de couverture manque I I Coloured maps/ Cartes g6ographiques en couleur n D D Pages damaged/ Pages endommagdes Pages restored and/or laminated/ Pages restaur6es et/ou pelliculdes Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages d6color6es, tachetdes ou piqu6es Pages detached/ Pages d6tach6es D Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) I I Showthrough/ Transparence □ Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur D D D Bound with other material/ Reiid avec d'autres documents Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along interior margin/ La reliure serrde peut causer de I'ombre ou de la distortion le long de la marge intdrieure Blank leaves added during restoration may appear within the text. Whenever possible, these have been omitted from filming/ II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutdes lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, mais, lorsque cela itait possible, ces pages n'ont pas 6t6 film6es. □ Quality of print varies/ Quality indgale de I'impression □ Includes su,. plementary material/ Comprend du materiel suppldmentaire I I Only edition available/ D Seule Mition disponible Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to ensure the best possible image/ Les pages totalement ou partiellement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, etc., ont 6ti filmdes A nouveau de fapon d obtenir la meilleure image possible. D Additional comments:/ Commentaires suppldmentaires: This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est film6 au taux de reduction indiqu6 ci-dessous. 10X 14X 18X 22X 26X 30X y 12X 1«X 20X 24X 28X 32X The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks to the generosity of: Harold Campbell Vaughan Memorial Library Acadia University L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grdce d la g6n6rosit6 de: Harold Campbell Vaughan Memorial Library Acadia University The Images appearing here are the best quality possible considering the condition and legibility of the oiiginal copy and in keeping with the filming contract specifications. Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et de la nettetd de l'exemplaire film6, et en conformity avec les conditions du contrat de filmage. Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed beginning with the front cover and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All other original copies are filmed beginning on the first page with a printed or illustrated impres- sion, and ending on the last page with a printed or illustrated impress'on. Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en papier est imprimde sont filmds en commenpant par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont filmds en commenpant par la premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. The last recorded frame on each microfiche shall contain the symbol —^- (meaning "CON- TINUED "), or the symbol V (meaning "END "), whichever applies. Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole — »- signifie "A SUiVRE ", le symbole V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmds d des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est filmd d partir de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche t droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 .■.•..■.•.f'.';-.::-;;.V!, w.::r.-..vj, r.f/,r.'j'.:;!..wi.s'.'ii::!,v./.'. '■X^' u«»hS M^ ,'>■■ J ?ft^^; * . ' : -' ♦•'^■^ssx. MODERN EVANGELINE. ■ ■ ■• t. • ••JjX ••• CARRIE J. HARRIS, l^uthor of " Mr. Perkins, of Noya Scotia," ** A Romantic Romance/' etc., etc. WOLFVILLE, N. S. rjrrijm X{m 'r1 ;1- •^m. J. J. AN8L0W, PRrNTER, WINDSbR, N. 8. •St A MODERN EVANGELINE. BY -: -:- AUTHOR OF -:- "Mr. Perkins, of Noua Scotia," "A Romantic Romance, " "Cyril Whynian's Mistahe," "Faith and Friends," etc. WOLFVILLE, N. S. ' WINDSOR, N. S. : J. J. Anslow, Book, Nkwspap'.r and Genekal Job Printer. 189G. / ^/' '■' \' ( ' '^1 ^^ '•"V. Enxered according to Act of the Parliainent of Canada^ in the year IHUH, hy Carrfe J. Harris, at the Department of AijricuUure. J -.... I O M # '^r ■ ». n r: *- TO.. >■ t I { ff '( ■:, % r ^ lyiodet^r) Evai^^eliQe, CHAPTER I In the Land of Evancjeline. "(jT-u-A-N-i) P-R-fc!" shouted the brakeman on the Dominion Atlantic Railway's evonincr express. Quickly closing the book I was reading, I gazed with misty ej'es through the car window. Was one of my childhood's dreams at last a reality, and was I actually in the "Land of Evangeline," the land made known to fame by the pen of our beloved Longfellow — the battle ground of one of the most cruel strug:£:les ever recorded in history? Can it be possible that those lovely, verdant fields through which we are passing have once been stained red with human gore ? But my reverie was brought to a close by the train coming to a standstill, and gathering up my travelling paraphernalia, I landed upon the platform of a little country station. The train rolled away eastward a few moments after I left it, and I looked s'ColOo ./ AfODERX EVAXGELINE. aiLxi<.>usly arouu«l in tlie hope of disco vering soaie iiu'rtus of coMVOVrtiico to the villatje perched U|j. this sultry suniuier e\ oiiiuiT An indescriKible peace was rei^jnin^ over tl;e v(uiot - pn vwlud n\e. and touching his cap with the air of >% marine in the pivsence of one of his superior otfict^r*. askt\l nie it I wishe^l to W driven to the hotel. i.>u tuy answering in the arfinnative. he relieve».l mi^ or niy irripsack. and with a polite ""follow uie," he le-.l che w^ty to an >:'peu e-arry all. which the l^ailding bad •'■efore coriC^^ale»i f rv>m my view. He eatertaiD^trt i ttie. as we dr\n-e over the willow-bon.lere^i r-avL bv poiticiiii: out the various places '..tf interest in chv- vicinity likely to be vtsicet.i by strangers. an«l ;mcr elitubia;^ ;.iu excremely steep hiil. ilep^jsiteti me it the i'.vr ot a rather preteacioct* -c^stablishment. wher^ I wa,s mec bv k plet«*satit-t'aceii L-iii«.iia.«iv, wh»j :mve me *an to eome tmder her rt.K^t-cree tor a short soj<.>(irn. This ct:cicLudeii. sli»:- couducced me go a eoajt''irtab[y fnrniii-iiei >JLpiLi:t;m«r£ii: and lett nie. wick che iiii'-^cmfici":!! chiit: sup'per wut my frivolous companion had no intention of allowing me to mope in solitude. Foremost among the attractions he liad for her was the possible wealth h<^ might have concealed within his rocky bosom. In arldition to the uncounted gold stored there by the famous Captain Kidd,the hoarded wealth of nund^ers of Acadians was supposed. to have been hidden upon the mountain side. "And there are also millions of beautiful amethysts lying around loose, which anyone can find who wnll take the trouble to search a little. We are planning m 8 A MODERN EVANGELINE. \ I a picnic some day next week, and will pay \\\n\ a visit. There is the cutest little steamer up in Wolf- ville ! I think she is called the 'Ev^angeline.' By the way, 'most everything is named Evangeline around here. The place might well be called the 'Land of Evangeline,' There is Evangeline Hall, Evangeline Beach, Evangeline Hotel, and hundreds of other Evangelines too numerous to mention. However, we are talking of engaging this little craft I spoke of to take us to Blomidon. Would you care to become one of our party ?" "I should be delighted to accompany you," I answered, gallantly. An opportunity to visit Blomidon was not to be despised, even though I should be forced to endure the companionship of this loquacious female en route. "That's right ; I am glad you will come. The more the merrier, you know." And she nodded her head sagely. "But I must show you all the other places marked ja>»" A MODERN EVANGELINE. .'■V-:' from a piece of one. It is too sweet for anything! I shall use it for a jewel case." The look of disgust I gave lier was (juite lost, as she rattled on : "The owner of the place (for, will you believe it, the government actually parceled it out to the new-comers like any common Vjit of land), says lie is going to plough it all up next year and plant it with potatoes. He complains that the visitors are always leaving the gates open and letting his cows wander all over the country. He thinks people won't want to go tramping around over a potato field, like they do at present. I should not want to eat the potatoes, would you ? I am afraid they would have a nuisty taste. Everj'thing around here has a history. Even the little children you meet will volunteer to give you lots of infor- mation. I do not suppose a great deal of it is very authentic, but sonie of your informers believe all they tell you, and the rest are not particular, pro- viding you believe what you are told. I have been shown five different places, each one the exact spot, where Evangeline dwelt, and yesterday I received definite information that the story of Evangeline was a fiction. The maiden was an invention of Longfellow — a child of his brain, .so to speak. Was there ever anything so di.sgusting f To think of the bushels of tears which have been wasted over the sufferings of a person who nev(a' had any exist- \/^ lo A MODERN EVANGELINE. ence ! But the burial ground is an established fact, and so is the pit where the Encrlish soldj^rs are buried. That is the place down there, where those gnarled old apple trees are keeping guard over their sepulchre. I will pilot you down there to-morrow if you wish to sketch the spot. I ain sorry I cannot give you any further information this evening, for I promised to ride with a friend of cousin Ray's. Come to think of it, I did not introduce myself, and of course you do not know who I am. I am Maude Abbott, a cousin of your friend, Raymond. There is nothing in my estimation to compare with horse- back exercise. To enjoy a jolly canter by the side of a pleasant companion beats bicycle riding all to pieces. You must try it some day, Mr. Salter, while you are here. But I see the horses are ready and I am not. (iood-night," and she di.sappeared, leaving me wnth the uncomfortable sensation that some person had suddenly poured a pail of ice-water over my back. "That chatter-box a cousin of Ray's," I thought; "and I shall be compelled to treat her politely, no matter what I am forced to endure ! I fear I would commit suicide were I compelled to pass a month in her society." Five minutes after she left me I saw her ride past the open casement, from which I was leaning, ac- companied by a young man, w^ho smiled contentedly il A MODERN EVANGELINE. II as he listened to her merry chatter. "I do not envy you your companion, my young gentleman," I muttered, cynically, as I watched them gallop out of sight, with a feeling of thankfulness that I was, at last, alone to feast my eyes upon the grandeur before me. I turned my eyes to\\ards the northeast, where the evening mists were slowly gathering around the hoary head of old Blomidon, and for a short time forgot the existence of Maude Abbott. 13 A MODERN EVANGELINE, CHAPTER II. A Maiden all Foulorn. "Oh, Blomidon," I involuntarily murmured, as I watched the t'og'gy curtain dropped before the lovely picture ; "what a tale thou couldst tell, couldstthou be endowed with the g'it't of speech ! What pages thou couldst till with the doings of the red-skinned maidens and their savage lovers in the days before the ships of France had passed thy portals, bearing th^ brave pioneers, who were seeking home and fortune in the wilderness thou hast guarded for ages. Thou hast watched the struggles of those nixma brave men as they patiently hewed the rougli logs and raised the huml)le cabins, which furnished shelter for the beloved companions who so nol>ly followed them into exile. And thou hast also watched the beautiful, smiling fields into which those same brave men have transformed that wilder- ness, and still thou art mute." "And will ever remain so, till the end Of tinio," exclaimed a mocking voice at my side, and turning A MODERN EVANGELINE. 13 as I •vely thou >ages 1 lined fore larinpj and for hose ouf!;h shed lobly also hicli Ider- DUiie, Irning ■5 impatiently towanls the intruder I was amazed to see before m»- Raymond Abbott, my trusted friend, and a fellow-worker in the great publishini^ house where I was employed. "You do not appear ii*e y they V own tart to tliat a n their ly, but ^e been iiration nsense. at that sidents (1 elect avated hre? I months lover I falling of the nen, I Iw'ere I refer a "Much trash has been written about tlie death of broken-hearted (Uxnisels, and sometimes we come across a chronicle recording the destruction of a member of the sterner sex, but even the most ro- mantic among us will be forced to admit that he or she has never yet met a case in real life where death was caused by le possession of their homes. Among the ftnv who preferred British rule to more Jiostile measures was one Jules Dulac, a wealthy farmer of (Jrand Pie. He had but one child, a lovely, graceful girl, of about eighteen sunnners, at the time the Acadians were expelled, and among the exiles was her betrothed. The almost heai't-broken girl parted from her lover on the beach, and before the boat bore him away from her side he vowed to return and claim her, as he would prepare a com- fortable home for her in the strange land to which he was forced to journey. "The vow those fond lovers made at parting was faithfully kept by the maiden, in spite of her father's opposition, for over five years. The land surround- ing her lover's old home had l)een bestowed upon an officer in the British army, who wished to found a ■^jssssammm *«*- A MODE A' AT EVANGELINE. '9 cing her proved to Ray- I lioard It was ors, and \'. You jd from ;he oath 3 wed to homes, to more wealthy child, a ners, at ongf the broken before )wed to a com- which tig was at hers round- pon an jund a ■Sf-. !)omo in the valley. He raised a hand.«^ome structure over the ashes of the hundde cottage where she had one day thought to reign as mistress, and invited her to sliare liis home. "It was the chief ambition of her father's life that his daughter should wed tlie Englishman, an<^ni/.e(l lier loiif^-lost lover. For years the faith- ful fellow had stj'U,i,^jjjle«l to procure the home in which he wished to enshrine his idol, nevei" doubt- ineen before him he had souietimes feared, but that she would be false, his beautiful Marie, oh never \ 'Mechfinically she listened to his simple tale, and watched how his eyes feasted on the beauty of her still ct)mely face, and at the end she broke his heart by tellint;^ him that fia- lon^ years she had been th(> wile of another. "With a heartrendiui;- cry he stajroered fron» liei side, and a week aftir, straufj^e tluai^h kindly hand> placed him beneath the sod in the old burial i^rouml over which the cattle ha)ne ii» ^or nsecrat('(l ^ssion t'ol- : love, a- ish ceuif- , for Ikt stern husband had refused lier dyine laid by her lover's side. His wife and tile mother of his childi-en shouM not rest in aji ob- scure ^rave. He raised a costly marble monum«.'nt above her tomb, n!id in )i short time he had tilled her place b}' out- of his own race. "On hei* death-bed she warned* her dauiifhters to beware how they bestowed their hands, unb'ss their hearts accom]>aiiie*l the ^dft, and also expressed a fear that her own faith le.ssne.ss would cause a curse to ever follow her cliildren and their descendants. "There is a tradition still existin^^ in the family that no daufi^hter of the house has ever ma«le a happy marriaije. 'The old lanstant in this case," exclaiiiie"! Raymond, triumplumtly, at hist breaking the silence, wliich histed for some time after our new friend had taken her departure, '■'How do you make that out C I asked, surprised at his assertion. "Did not tlie poor Frenchman return for Ids lie- *^rothed after an aV)sence of twenty-tive years, only to find her faithless ?" "Yes, but it is a woman who proves her constancy at the present time." "I suppose so, I wonder if the devoted fair one is now a resident of Grand Pre, I confess I would like to have the pleasure of knowinj^^ such a piece of constancy as she is represented, A woman true to a lover who is false must be either a fool or a saint," "Then you adnnt there may be a few saints to be found in the sex," I replied, with a laugh ; "I begin '0- m I r 1 1 } 'A. 24 A MODERN EVANGELINE. to have hopes of you after all. Your faith in woman- kind cannot be ((uite dead." " Yes, I suppose there may V)e a few saints among them, but, nevertheless, they are of a very eartlily kind. And our worthy French descendant luis not yet proved to the world that she possesses the right to be enrolled among them. However, I am so charmed with the account of lier goodness, that if she is as beautiful as she lias been painted, and were she willinf; to forswear her allegfiance to the other fellow, I might be tempted to make her Madame Abbott. I suppose it is about time I was thinking of taking to myself a wife." It was too dark for him to see tlie look of con- tempt with V. Inch I favored him, but the darkness could not conceal the scorn in my voice, as I warn- ingly reminded him that the bitei" might be bitten. For years he had recklessly roved from Hower to flower, content to hihale their fragrance as he passed along. Handsome of per.son, with charming man- ners, coupled with a fair amount of wealth, he had been for years a favorite wherevei" he appeared. And although regarding him as one of my best friends, I could not help wishing he miglit soon meet with one who would be mclined to teach him tliat women were not all so easily won as he had hitherto imagined. And then my heart reproached me for my want 41 % A MODERN F.VANGELINE, 25 arecl. incot that thcrto want • of tiy thenjselves. Siiiitli departed a few days after invited J"y arrival, leaving me to the tender mercies of Maude Abhott, who seemed determined to claim me person ^^ ''^'^' ♦-'^^cort in spite of my constant ettbi'ts to avoid zed her ^^'^- ^^^'^^ appeared to take no n(;tice of \\\y want of es who gallantry, but would always welcome me with a )f thoir charniinijf smile at our next meetin<:^, no matter liow nd mv- churlish I had been with her at the preceding one. n being At length I made the acquaintance of several far be- resident families, and in the enjoyment which I a fairly found in their society I lost sight of the drama tel, I to which was being enacted betoj'e my eyes. of the Among my new friends was a charming young )rtijuer, l^i^ly- who, I sometimes fancied, might in the far away future, could I be fortunate enough to win pplied \\*sc, almost reconcile me to the loss of my darling younf»- Alicia. Clare Ennnerson was an imposing young vvliose woman, apparently about thirty years of age, al- ^'enino- though she might have passed for a much younger ht the person. Our tastes were snmlar ni many respects, meet ' ^^^*^ ^^^ ^^^'^ ^ plea.sant \\i\y of deferring to me when • we did differ, which completely won my heart. She 11 was a lively companion generally, but at times a look of sadness w(nild shadow her fair face, which told me she was not altogether unac(iuainted with sorrow, and wdiich went far towards making me her devoted admirer. , One sultry evening, returning to the hotel earlier hours J tr>'> ^ 00th ly mions. man n 30 A MODERN EVANGELINE. than usual, and t'eelino^ tlie air in the liouso would bo stiriinf(, I threw myself under some bushes on the grounds and htjjhted a cif^ar, but even the exertion of smokinfif was too much of an eft'ort. The ciofar was allowed to ^o out, and I },'ave myself up to the pleasant contemplation of my darling Clare, as I called her in my thoughts, I heard voices in the distance, l)ut I paid no attention to what they were siiying till I discovered that Clare and myself formed the subject of the conversation. "Yes," said a voice, which I recognized as that of iny landlady : "there is no doubt about Clare being a schemer, but you must remember her plans do not always work. You know how she scliemed for over ten years to capture her cousin, and at last to avoid her he has left his native land. True, she has suc- ceeded in parting liim from Evangeline Mortimer, and for that I could never forgive her," went on the old lady, with considerable vehemence. "Evangeline is well rid of him. He would have been a closf to her through life." "Mr. Abbott appears to be regarded with much favor. Do you suppose she will marry him ?" said another voice. "She will never marry anyone except Harry Emmei-son," was the answer; "but Clare appears in a fair way to capture his friend. But who knows, perhaps both gentlemen are only amusing \ ^ w A MODERN EVANGELINE. 31 se would les on the exertion 'he eiofar Lip to the are, as I ?s in the hey were If formed us that of ire heinq- ns do not for over to avoid has suc- lortimei", it on the angeHne clog to :h much ?" said : Harry appeal's lut who ira using themselves hy a summer Hirtation ? Flow dark it is gnnving ! I believe we are going to have, a storm." The two ladies turned towards the house, actu- ally hrushing me with their garments as they passed, hut the twilight had deepened so rapidly that I es- caped their observation. Wlien they had passed beyond earshot, I arose, shook myself free from the leaves which were clinging to my garments, and f(jllowebott by invit- ing her to join ws in a picnic excursion to the "Look- off Mountain." I fancied a look of anojer for an instant darkened Miss Ennnerson's face, as the carriage which was to convey us di'ew up before the hotel, and I carefully assisted my companion to a seat in the vehicle and placed myself by her side. For some unaccountable reason Miss Maude ap- peared less repulsive to me than formerly, and I r^ s I i 32 A MODERN EVANGELhWE. \ It i) really i.'njoy*.-'! her lively chatter. It* Miss Eiiiiner- Rou felt orieved at my desertion, she showed no sign, and tlie day [)assed |)leasantly for all. For the next tew days I liecanie the devoted attendant of my feilow-hoai'der ; then, suddenly' realizing' I might he only extricatinui; myself from one maze to fall into another, 1 tied fi'om (Jrand Pre. Smile not, dear lady readers, at my egotism. I now know that Miss Maude Al.)lK)tt wouM have laughed me to scorn had I committed such a hlun- dor as to oti'ei' her my heart and hand, while Miss Clare — hut I have no right to heti'ay her secrets. I had not wasted the precious hours of my vaca- tion in mere pleasure-seeking. A well-tilled sketch and note book accompanied me on my departure from the "Land of Evangeline." I spent the few days of my liberty yet remaining, in visiting other localities of intei'est t(» tourists, and returned to my duties, after fin absence of ten weeks, in pei'fect health, but still sad at htart. Ti-ue, my thoughts did not turn so frequently to ni}' lost bride, lying in her far-off grave, but at times a sad, sweet face would rise before my mental vision, and I would have an uncond'ortable feeling that Clare Emmers(jn had not been fairly treated. I had con- denuied her on the verdict of a couple of gossiping women, w ho, for all I knew to the contrary, might have been bitter enemies of the poor girl. |i A MODERN F.VANGELINE. ^ Slimier- A tV w weeks after my return I was iiccoste'l one ved no eveniiiLj, as I left the uftice, Ity Kayinond. He looked tliinner and more careworn than when I levoted had last seen him. iddeni}' Had Kv«^ Mortimer refused him, and was this the If from cause of his downcast looks ? A feeling of anger Orand stirred my heart. She had appeared to enjoy his ^otism. society immensely. If she did not intend to accept d have him, why had she lureeauti- {^X'^xx- ful Evangeline. You were right, old boy, my time 1(1 cQjj. has come, but I would not surrender the memory of isipinf"^ those past happy weeks for the privilege of becom- inio-ht ^'"S ^'^^ ^^ '^^^ greatest philosophers on earth. From the first moment my eyes beheld her I knew she 3 54 .-/ MODERN El'AXGELINE. was a (jUL'cii anioiifj women. Slu' is nut t'm* im» ; but her friemlsliip is to me more precious than the love of another couh.1 ever he." "Persevere, and you will one day gain her heart," I said, prophetically. I was a hrm believer in a true woman's constancy, but even to me it .seemed impossible tlw>t a woman could be so constant to a false lovei' as not to be at length wc^i by a true one. "No, Charlie," lie replied, "3'ou mean kindly, but you do not know her as I do. Had you heard hef answiT the night I asked her to become ni}- witV, you would know there was no hope for me. And to think," he l»urst out savagely," she has wasted i\\\ her affections on a worthless scoundrel who does not know how to appreciate the treasure he has won, but has ruthlessly tossed aside and trampletl upon her love at the bidding of his lady mother; and who, even at her death, when he is free to re- deem his vows without opposition, cowardly slinks off to the other side of the world, and leaves her to pass her life alone. What enigmas women air ! They waste all their hearts' affection upon some clay idol, then when an honest man appears, who would appreciate the prize, they have nothing left to bestow. "Does she expect her old lover to one day return and claim her?" I asked, more from the hope ttf rousing him, than from any interest I felt in tlie wanderer. II \ 'VS. R ■;' ": ./ MODERX EVANGELINE. 35 ; for \\\\} ; that) the t'l" heart," ;ver in u t seemed ^tnnt to a true one. lully, hut leanl he)' my wife, lie. And IS wasted who does } he lias tran)pled n)other ; ie to re- V slinks s her to en arc ! )n some U's, who inof left "Heaven only knows what she expects! She once promised to n)arry hin), and she still considers herself bound by that |)i"on)is(.', notwithstandinj^ the fact that he has deserted her so shamefully. If she knew for a certainty that he was either dead or married, she might consider herself a free woman ; otherwise, there is no hope for me. If he ivturns twenty, aye, even fifty j'ears hence, he will still Hnd her waitin<^ for his cominjx, pi'oviding death has not forestalle.,n !:;";l li'-'SS mother was so anxious for him to marry Clare. She thought the girl's money would be such a help to them. No one here has any sympathy for him. He has treated hoth you girls most shamefully. Hi; has paid Clare the most devoted attention for years, and kept her from marrying any other man. As for yourself, it should have been enough for you when he left you at the time of your father's death. That was when you should have broken your en- gngement." Wlu'n Eve learned of her lover's misfoi'tunes, she bitterly repi'oached her.self for concealing her hoard- ed wealth, which would havebeen n)ore than sufficient for him to redeem his old home. But regrets were useless ; he had gone. She could only pray that a inerciful Providence would watch over and protect her wanderei-, and one day bring him srfely back to her. WIk'U summer again came around, slie went to <^rand Pre to spend her well-earned vacation with a distant cousin. People watched her closel}' after her arrival among them, but if she grieved for hei- absent lover she kept her secret well. It soon began to be noticed that if people wished to enjoy the society of the distinguished ^liss Mor- timer, they must omit the name of Clare Ennnerson from the list of their guests. She evidently con- sidered her in a manner responsible for lier misfor- ■ '."»■ vished Mor- lerson COll- vy .^^■ .•/ MODERN EVANGELIXE. 41 are. Sho a help to for him. ully. He or years, Jan. As for you r's death, ►^our en- ines, she r hoard- uffieient ;ts weiv that {i protect \' back tunes, and despised lier too thoroufjhl}- for her treachery, to mingle in the society- of which she was a member. When Raymond Aljbott bef^an paying her such xlevoted attention the delight of her friends was un- bounded; but when, a few weeks after, she dismissed him, tiiey ventured to openly remonstrate with her for her folly, which so annoyed the liigli-spirited girl that she innnediately returned to the home of her adoption, antt standing before nie. "What's the row, old fellow:'" he in(jinred, in a cheery voice, which belied his looks, for his face re- minded me of a thunder-cloud about to pour its vials of wrath upon the earth. Then, without wait- ing for an answer, lie turned, linked his arm in mine, and as we moved away, burst out impetuously^ : "Oh, Charlie ! she is going to Europe." "Who ?" I asked ; "your cousin Maude V' "My cousin Maude I" he repeated, inrlignantly ; "as if I care.,. 46 /; MODE AW EVAXGELIXE. ])lL'asun-' of iiKikinfj a cuii(|Ut'st, as she has duin\ Bestow your afii-ctions upon one of these, and Kt her f(o. No doubt it is veiy gratify inpj to her vanity to have you always at her beck and call, but allow yourself no longer to be looked upon as her slave. " "Charlie!" and the look he gave me as he spctkc my name should have crushed me to the earth. "I seem to be losing my friends at a rapid rate," I mutteivd, as I watched him disappear, an.,-, of appearances. We both forgfot ourselves. Tliere was no occasion tor our sliowing the public what u I'eeliniT of hatred we have for each other. It was not good form, to put it mildly." "I cannot understand why you sliould cherish a feeling of animosity towards nie," I burst out, im- petuously : "I am sure I have done nothing deserv- ing your hatred." ' Can you not?" was her smiling reply. "Then you are more dense than I have given you the credit of being. A friend of Clare Emmerson's can never be regarded by myself in any other light than that of an enemy. ' "You are unjust. You must not expect the world to look at Miss Emmerson with your eyes. Besides, I can hardly claim the right to call myself her frien5 hates her because Eve does. What is taking him there ? "To shoot lions, probably. But Clare cannot have gone for such a purpose." "No, of course not. Nor do I believe Ray has, either. They must both be searching for Harold Emmerson, and I thought Clare liked you. Oh, what a tangle it is. Shall we try to unravel it ? I wonder if Eve has gone also ? Clare will probably find her cousin and marry him. And I believed in him so. Tlien Eve will marry poor Ray, and you, what will you do ? You will just have to stay at home and put up with poor me." "All right," I answered, gravely; "when we hear of the double wedding in the far East, I will appear with priest and ring and hold you to your compact." "You know I did not mean that. How could you misunderstand me so ? I am always making such dreadful blunders. Ray always said my tongue v/ould get me into trouble some day, but I never thought I could be misunderstood like that." I looked at her as she stood there, the picture of consternation, and something in her appearance soothed my aching heart. Clare was probably lost to me, forever. Why should I not marry the wo- man before me ? I cared for lier as much as I would over care for any woman now ; and if she 4 66 A MODERN EVANGELINE. i would consent to become my wife, I would do all in my power to make her happy." "You will tell me what Clare said about J^oino- away, it' it is not a secret, will you not ?" she asked, as she turned to leave me. "If Clare has not asked me not to reveal what she has written, you shall see the letter," I told her. as I drew her hand through my arm and walked towards home with her. I left her at her mother's door with a feeling of contentment which surprised me. My love for Clare Emmerson had died a violent death when I learned of her journey to Africa. Maude, now that I knew what a true little darling she was, I felt as- sured, would make me a suitable wife, an i I was almost happy. Not till some time during tie next day did I remember Clare's letter, which I had re- ceived. Remembering my promise to Maude to acquaint her with t' > contents, I attempted to remove it from the pocket where I had plu. d it. To my surprise and consternation, it was missing, nor did the most minute search bring it to light. That evening I started for the home of Maude to acquaint her with my loss, when whom should I meet on the way but my cousin Reginald." "Thought you were in Europe for the summer," I ejaculated, giving his hand a hearty scfueeze. " What sent you back so early ?" (-■ A MODERN EVANGELINE. 67 "Business," he answered, laconically. "How have you been since I left ?" "Stunning! How did you leave your friends? Has Miss Mortimer turned the heads of royalty with her pictures yet ?" "Miss Mortimer developed a streak of idleness when she struck the other continent. She has taken a vacation and gone on an expedition to Africa." "W-h-e-w! What next will we hear? Another African picnic organized ! There will be joyous greetings whien they all meet at Johannesburg!" and I told him of Ray's contemplated journey, as well as Clare's departure. "Well, I hope they will at last get their love affairs straightened out in a satisfactory manner," was his charitable comment. " You had better not say anything to Ray about Eve's trip. It will only upset him. Who would ever im}v;^ine old Ray wt)uld take the fever so badly?" "I agreed to this proposition, and after a few more words, I hastened to the home of my little betrothed, as I now considered her. She was much disappointed when I told her of the loss of my letter. Unlike me, she still had faith in her old friend, and she fancied the letter would have explained tlie mystery surrounding Clare's sudden journey. 68 A MODERN EVANGELINE, When I asked her to become my wife, slie de- murred at first, then consented, conditionally. I must tirst prove Clare false before she would agree to usurp her place in my affections, I respected her more for Jier decision, but I had not her faith in Clare, and felt positive I would not have to wait long for my bride. She begged me to say nothing of our conditional engagement to Raymond befoi-e he sailed. "Let them shape their own destinies, regardless of us," she had said. "But is it not just too good for anything that Eve is going too ? If they should happen to marry out therie, what a surprise it will be to those devotees of Cupid, when they arrive in America, to receive cards of invitation to the wed- ding reception of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Salter I" and she enthusiastically clapped her hands as she fancied the astonishment of her friends. • A MODERN EVANGELINE. 69 CHAPTER VIII. Africa Ho ! When Eve Mortimer watchetl the docks fadinef from her sight, as the great Athintic liner steamed rapidly out to sea, she felt that she had committed a foolish act in refusing to become the wife of Ray- mond Abbott. She saw the shores of America growing smaller, and realized she was going forth into an unknown world, where she would probably pass many a lonely hour. By her own exertions she had made a place for herself in the world of art, but would art always prove sufficient to satisfy the cravings of her woman's heart ? She saw the long years stretching away into the future, and shuddered at the thought that she must pass them in the com- panionship of those who cared naught for her. The adulation she had received in the past few years had been like sweet incense to the desolate orphan, but the time she new must shortly come when she would no Ioniser be the acknowledged heroine of the hour. She liad already passed the first mile- 70 A MODERN EVANGELINE. stone of her youth. In a few more years her beauty would begin to fade, her admirers would seek other and freslier charms, and she would find herself deserted ; or, worse still, only courted for the sake of the gold of which she was the possessor. Raymond, she knew, loved her truly. She would ever occupy the chief place in his great, noble heart. Another might seek the hand which should have been the reward of his fide^'ty, 1but no other would ever care for her as he had done. She had seen his sorrowful face, as he stood upon the pier and watched her as she was borne from his side, and her heart ached for the grief she would have given years of her life to assuage, and she had placed an unsurmountable barrier between them, for what ? Because of her infatuation for a heartless villain, who had cruelly trampled upon her heart's best gift, and held her up to the scorn of an unsympa- thizing world. She had been a fool ; she could see it now, when it was too late for her to undo her foily, and with streaming eyes she sought her room, as thoroughly homesick and heartsick as any exile who ever sailed from the shores of America. Could Raymond, as he sadly journeyed back to Boston, only have known of- the unavailing tears which bedewed the sleepless pillow of the woman he loved with such devotion, how it would have cheered the lonely hours which followed their sepa- A MODERN EVANGELINE. 71 ration ! How he would have flown to her side as fast as steam could take him, and brought her back in triumph to his home, the happiest man of whom the American continent could boast. It was so lit- tle he liad asked of her in return for his overwhelm- ing love, and that little had been denied him ! But he could not know, and the weary months dragged themselves slowly away, the man eating his heart out in America for the companionship of his darling, the w^oman, restless and unhappy in Europe because so many weary miles separated her from her dearly-prized friend. The party of friends who had crossed the ocean in her company, remained a few weeks in Rome, sight seeing, and then passed along to visit other scenes, leaving her behind to spend some months in study. Such had been the programme mapped out before they left Boston, and Eve, sorely against her inclinations, adhered to her original plans. But she could neither settle herself to study nor become interested in her brush or pencil. Day after day, she wandered around the ancient ruins with her sketch book, but the hours were pas.sed in idle- nes.s. Then, when she made an effort to copy some of the old pictures, the trea.sures in which Rome abounded, she became disgusted with the daubs which disfigured her canvas, and invariably drew her brush across the surface as the completion of 72 A MODERN EVANGELINE. her daily work. An urK.lc'fined fear that lier hand liad lost its cunning* was continually haunting her, and she hailed with joy a connuunication from her friends who had niaile their way into England and invited her to join them there. Hastily packing her effects, she turned her back upon Rome and its picturescjue ruins, and followed them to the homeeen compelled to make in order to sufficiently illuminate the joyous scene, has dipped his head helow the hori/on for the ])urpose of tak- 'm\f ^ well-earned repose; the pilot, liailinfj a hoat near tlie entrance of the harbor, has dejmrted shore- ward, and darkness has settled over the water, broken only by the glinnnerinf; of the light-ship. The .steamer, bravely breastin<( the Atlantic billows, heads eastward, and the search of llayniond Abbott for Eve's tickle lover has begun. Will he be success- ful in his (juest, is a (juestion the future alone can solve. Reginald Smith, who had returned from England the week preceding Raymond's departure from Bos- ton, having transacted the trivial business which served as an excuse to bring him back to America on a foi'hn'u hope, set out with Raymond for the shores of Africa. When I learned of his intention to accompany my friend, I expressed my surj^riso in such a foi'cible maimer that the poor fellow had at .once made a clean breast of his troubles. It was the remembrance of Maude Abbott's bright eyes which had served as a loadstone to draw him across the Atlantic, but finding her beyond his reach on his arrival, he had manfully swallowed his disap- pointment, and resolved to spend a year or two in travel, as a cure for his heartache. He volunteered 78 A MODERN EVANGELINE. to assist Ray in his search for the missing Nova Scotian, an oHer eagerly accepted by my friend, and I inarvolled at the high spirits displayed by the two as they set out upon their arduous undertaking. As most of my leisure time was spent in Maude's society about this date, we frequently amused our- selves in speculating upon the future of our four friends, always deciding that Eve must eventual I}' marry Raymond, but would Smith or her cousin be the one who would one day be rewarded by the hand of Clare, was a problem we at last concluded must be left for the future to unravel. Having de- cided it would take months to learn anything re- garding their matrimonial prospects, I spent tlu- interval in falling desperately'' in love with the charming little woman, who had done me such an lionor in consenting to become my bride. The travellers (juickly transacte;! their business in England, .did began their voyage South, impati- ently counting the ?ct, whenever she considered it worth while to exercise her charms, a (juestion which must be de- cided in every case by the number of figures which represented their bank account. It was the dream IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I ■-IIIIIM IIM I" 1^ lAo II 2.0 1.25 mm 1-4 IIIIII.6 V /. {/ / Jig, 1^*% ^ /J;^, f/. v] friend, and Raymond, considering this probable, did Ti A MODERN EVANGELINE. "3 not waste time in useless search in Kngland, but sailed directly for home. Arriving in Boston, his first act was to visit Eve's hankers, who were fortunately known to the young man, to find Eve had indeed returned to America and withdrawn all her deposits from the bank. The manager either could not, or would not, give liis visitor any information regarding her present where- abouts, and Raymond at last left his presence, feel- ing completely baffled. He next visited Grand Pre, with no better success, and returned to Boston, where he spent the next few months. But the d^mon of unrest had assumed complete control of him, and after a few months, he turned his face towards the west. For some time I heard from him regularly, after his departure, then his letters suddenly ceased. I had not, however, nmch time to wori'y about my friend. My dear wife, who had contracted a severe cold soon after the birth of our son, had for some time been almot^t a helpless cripple. She was ordered by her medical attendant to spend the winter in a warm climate, so accordingly we decamped for Southern California. She did not derive as much benefit from the change as we had anticipated, and as the spring drew near, I began to fear she wouM never recover complete use of her limV>s. 8 ^4 i I 114 A MODERN E VANGELINE. "Why do you not try the Bantt' Hot Springs?" one (lay asked an acijuaintance, to whom I was re- tailing my woes. "Tiiey are considered a sure cure for rheumatic patients." "Where are they ?" I eagerly asked. He looked at me as it' he could not comprehend such ignorance. Then with a half contemptuous shrug of his shoulders, replied : "Somewhere among the Rocky mountains on the Canadian Pacific." "How do you reach there ?" Again a look of surprise, as he advised me to take the steamer to Vancouver, then inland for a few hundred miles. • I would have gone to the moon had there been the faintest hope of the trip being of benefit to Maude. I returned to our lodgings full of my plan, and the dear little woman, seeing my heart set upon it, readily consented, and ordered the nurse to pack. I pass over the delightful journey northward. We settled ourselves in delightful apartments at the magnificent C. P. K. hotel, and before a week had passed I had the joy of seeing my wife glide around her room without the aid of the cane which had been her inseparable companion for the past year. A few weeks spent among the hot sulphur baths completely restored my darling, and with a feeling of thankfulness we prepared for our departure east- w^ard. A MODERN FA'ANGEI.INE. »'5 Going out to take a Hnal stroll ftround the lovely mountain resort, for we were to leave on the follow- ini( morning, I encountered Raymond AblH)tt, ac- companied by a stranger, a short disUvnce from tiie hotel. "What brings you here V was the sinniltaneous exclamation of both, as our hands met in a hearty clasp. 1 explained that my wife had been ordered here for her health. "And I," said Ray, "have been looking after some mining property over there," (pointing to the west); "I caught cold, got a severe dose of rheumatism, and came down here for a swim in these medicinal waters. How long do you stay ?" I expbiined that it was our intention to leave the following morning, but now that I had met him, if Maude did not object, we would postpone our de- parture for a ti'iy or two. "Great place, this?" said Ray enthusiastically. What a man Van Home must be to have developed so much in so short a time ! By the way, he is here now. His private car was side tracked down there this afternoon. Let us have a look at her," and ac- companied by the stranger whom Raymond intro- duced as Mr. Madison, we sauntered leisurely down the track. A warning cry startled us and we sprang to one side, as a hand-car, propelled by a !(< ^tf ii6 A MODERN EVANGELINE, white man and a couple of Chinamen, rolled by. Seated on the front of the car were a couple of women, clad in the black vestments of the Sisters of Charity. "A motley crowd!" I remarked, with a lij^ht laugh. "Are the Chinamen trying to abduct the good sisters, do you think ?" "They are probably out on a collecting tour for some of their institutions," said Madison. "The foreman is a Roman Catholic, and he has invited them houie to dinner. Ke has nice bachelor quar- ters over there," (and he pointed in the direction the car was going), "and he is not a little proud of his home." "A queer place for a couple of nuns, at a bachelor's board," I exclaimed. "I am surprised at them going to such a place." "You shall be fined for that," laughed Madison ; "march right in here and hand over a V without demur." And he stepped from the track, passed up a rude flight of steps, and knocked briskly at the door of a comfortable looking shanty. The clatter of dishes was heard within as we waited. The door was thrown open and an appetizing odor greet- ed us. "Good evening, Fred," said our companion. "We wish to give the good sisters a trifle towards their hospital." <^ ■;'*■■ A MODERN EVANGELINE, 117 ^ The elder woman came forward to receive the do- nation, while the younger scarcely raised her eyes from the book she held in her hand. "Eve!" cried Raymond, pushing me aside as I was in the act of placing a bank note in tiie out- stretched hand of the sister. Quickly grasping the money, she stepped before the younger woman as if to shield her from harm, but she was not quick enough to prevent me from recognizing, in the pale, frightened face, the once beautiful features of Evangeline Mortimer. To Ray's agonized entreaties that she would speak to him once more, she paid not the slightest atten- tion, and I, seeing how they both were suffering, grasped him by the arm, and led him from the building. "Oh, Charlie, I must see her once more," he moaned, when we reached the open air; "I must learn her reason for hiding from me as she has done." "Nonsense, man," I answered sternly. "Another meeting can give you no pleasure. She is as effectu- ally lost to you now as if the grave had closed over her, and perhaps it is better so. Did you not ob- serve how terribly plain she is. She looked almost hideous in the garb she was wearing. "Charlie, don't. Did my darling think I should love her less because she lost her beauty ? Is that % 1 1 8 A MODERN E VANGELINE. the reason, do you suppose, that she has hidden her- self so far from lioine and friends ?" "I have no doubt that is the explanation. But whatever her reason, you will probably never learn it now. Do not torture the poor girl, by trying to obtain an interview, for, rest assured, you will not succeed." "I shall wait here till she leaves that place, and then I will confront her, though she were guarded by Hfty demons," he answered doggedly ; and I, seeing how useless was further argument, impatient- ly waited by his side. In about an hour the door slowly opened, and the two came forth, accompanied by the young foreman. "Eve, my darling, speak to me once more," moaned Raymond, rushing to her side. But if she heard, she did not betray herself, and the only reward he received for his weary waiting was a withering glance from her companion. Raymond stood with his arms folded across his breast and his eyes fixed upon the retreating forms, till they vanished in the distance, then drawing a long sigh, he slipped his arm through mine, and we returned to the hotel. Not a word was spoken about Eve by either of us, during our stay at Banff, and it was not till we were well on our way eastward that I informed Maude of our encounter. r 1 1 i \ 1 1 f f , A MODERN E VANGEUNE. 119 A few weeks after our return to Boston, while looking over some old letters, I came across one un- opened, and wondering how it oiime there, I hastily broke the seal. I started, as my eye rested upon the signature, and turning it over, I read the confession of Clare Emmerson, written the night before she left Boston. Sadly thinking how much misery might have been saved had I only known its contents before, I tore up the epistle and tossed the scraps in my waste basket. My little wife should never know how her friend had loved my unworthy self. Of Raymond Abbott I heard nothing more till the following spring. One afternoon I was seated in my office, working at some knotty problem, when I heard a well known step upon the stairs, a joyous burst of song in the passage, then the door flew open, and a hearty slap upon the back caused me to raise my head impatiently, and Ray grasped me by both hands, exclaiming : "Just arrived in the city an hour ago, my wife and I. Came at once to look 3'^ou up." "Did you manage to rescue Eve, after all ?" I in- quired. For an infant a look of sadness flitted 'vcross his face, then the brightness returned. "Eve is buried in a Western convent, you know, while Reg and I have married two lovely twin rTTi^^Tiiwwrr-nrijriiii|«i|iniwi