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Show H' LoVe in a Sno'austorm.Cont. Hi i When Miss Norton opened her eyes to the Hl things of the world, she found herself, to her f great astonishment, lying in an immense bed, Hj whose rough blankets chafed her delicate skin. Hj By the light of a lamp standing near, she saw a H' modest room, with chairs of woven straw and H furniture of white wood, and everywhere the look H of extreme cleanliness and order. H "Where am I?" murmured Lucy. "Have I been H B J ' Suddenly the memory of her adventure camo H i back to her, and she shivered. At the same mo- l ment the door opened and tlio kind face of a llt- M tie old woman appeared. , "Do you feel better, madame? she asked. H "Very much better, thank you! replied Miss H Norton gaily, but will you tell me where I am, H please, and how I got hero?" H "You are in my cottage, and 1 am Mistress H Gray, wife of Tom Gray, the shoesmith. You camo M l here, a few hours ago, in the arms of a1 young gen- mM tleman. I thought you were dead, and I laid you H on a sofa in the kitchen. Then he fell into a chair m with the little dog in his arms, as if he were worn H out, not the dog, miss, but the gentleman. I H brought him some whisky and he told me to care M for you, and I rubbed you until at last you B oponed your eyes and then went soundly to sleep! M Then I hurried to tell the gentleman fl Ah! miss, but he is a fine gentleman!" m "You have been very good to me," said Lucy, M ignoring the latter part of the good woman's sen- H tence." I will thank you better, Mistress Gray, Hj later, just now, I should like to get up." M Mistress Gray left her, and an hour after, M when Lucy descended to the kitchen, a strange M ( sight met her eyes. Upon the sofa lay the good H lady of the house, with pain clearly written on H her brow, and beforo the fire sat Mr, Willon. l "Good morning, Miss Norton! i hope you feel H none tne worse for our trip through the snow?" M "Not at all, thank you. And you?" 1 ( The question was put almost unwillingly, and H Mr. Willon frowned slightly, then turned back H philosopnically to his fire. M "I am nourishing," he declared, "but poor Mis- m tress Gray has met with a sad accident, for she H has hurt her foot. And as troubles never come B singly, I hope you are prepared for some bad M news, Miss Norton." M, "I am prepared for anything," she replied M coldly. H "Good!" well then, I am forced to tell you that H we are completely snowed in. It stormed all night M long, .and the doors and windows are entirely M blocked.'' H Lucy ran to the window: Alas! George had B spoken truly. H "Then we cannot go on today?" she demanded. H "Impossible." B "Tomorrow?" H "Perhaps, if they look for us and that is quite H uncertain." M Lucy wrung her hands nervously. "And I shall Hj have to stay here whole days, with you?" she H asked. M "And with Mistress Gray," George corrected. H "You need not be anxious, miss," said the good H woman, "there is plenty of coal and provisions M enough for three days." B But Lucy did not hear her. She could grasp Hj i nothing beyond the fact that for days, Bhe would M be locked in and shut up with George Willon, the M ; pickle gentleman, the man she had refused; It HB n' seemed as though she could not hate him enough, HH ' and yet, and yet he had saver her life! M These disagreeable thoughts filled her mind as H she ate her breakfast, and when she had finished, fl George Willon fillod the kettle with water and m put it on the fire. Bn "During a journey in Australia," he explained, "I learned to do quite a number of useful things, but my instruction was not complete. I do not know how to wash dishes. Will you take care of that duty, Miss Norton?" "Certainly not," replied Lucy, furiously. "Then I must attempt it," said George, serene, ly. "And meanwhilo'Miss Norton will take care of her room." "Oh, miss, I am ashamed to lie here," cried Mistress Gray, "truly, that is no kind of work for a lady like you!" "You are mistaken, Mistress Gray, deeply mistaken," mis-taken," said Willon imperturbably," every young lady should bo capable of making norself useful." Miss Norton went upstairs in a state of ccSni-plete ccSni-plete vexation. This was going too far, and she would tell him so! After a prolonged struggle with her refractory bed, the young lady went down stairs, armed with her most ferocious and haughty expression, to tell Mr. Willon what she thought of him. She found him seated alone before a crackling fire which he had just lighted. "May i speak to you?" she demanded, brusquely. "With pleasure, Miss Norton, I am entirely at your orders," he replied, "what is it you have to say?" "That your conduct is shameful," snapped Lucy, in jorkey sentences, "that you odiously abuse the situation and that all this must end at once." The sobs choked in her throat and Mr. Willon understood that a crucial moment had arrived and with it was the time to speak frankly. "You are right, Miss Norton, this must indeed end. The time has come to explain myself to you. You havo looked upon my love as an insult. An honest love is never that, be the woman a princess and the man but a simple peasant. You have treated mo as the dust beneath your feet, and trampled upon my heart. And all because I make the most of my faculties and my powers, because I work! What crime is there in that? Believe me, Miss Norton, work and kindliness are more noble than laziness and pride. You havo refused to accept my name, but you cannot prevent pre-vent me from feeling for you a deep and noblo love, but, be assured, I will never speak to you of it again truly, in justice to yourself, do not keep up this warfare, it steals from your charm a all that is most feminine and most seducing!" M George's voice, at first almost brutal, had ended in a note of rare tenderness. NA strange thing happened: Lucy, who had listened silently, burst B into sobs. "Go away! Go! I hate you, George, I hato you!" And she ran to the seclusion of her own B room. B fl The next evening, released by a thaw, Lucy and George sat at dinner in the castle of Lysan. Whenthey had related all the details of their ad- venture to their hosts, George turned to Lucy. "Miss Norton, have you asked Lord Corrie why he invited me here with you?" "No," she replied, blushing deeply. A smile appeared on Willon's lips; he stretched out his -hand towards a glass dish upon the table. "Miss Norton, would you like some pickles?" "Yes, thank you," she replied, her eyes cast down. "Do you like them?" he replied. "H'm! I am not so very sure!" But, eight days later, when she left the cas. tie of Lysan, she was sure of one thing, which was that she felt for the good and energetic man, whose rare qualities she had despised, a deep love, mingled with gratitude. And when someone, some-one, in her presence, ventured to show surprise at the engagement of a young aristocrat with a rich merchant, Miss Norton responded crushingly that no nobility was superior to that of work, and moreover, that pickles could not prevent happiness. |