An Ambitious Man

"You are going away?" she asked, with a tremor in her voice. "Is it

not very sudden?"

"No, I am not going away," he replied, "not from Beryngford--but I

shall doubtless leave your house ere many months. I am engaged to be

married to Miss Mabel Lawrence. You are the first person to whom I

have imparted the news, but you have been so kind, and I feel that

you ought to know it in time to secure a desirable tenant for my

room."

Again there was a pause. The rosy face of the Baroness had grown

quite pale, and an unpleasant expression had settled about the

corners of her small mouth. She waved a feather fan to and fro

languidly. Then she gave a slight laugh and said: "Well, I must confess that I am surprised. Miss Lawrence is the last

woman in the world whom I would have imagined you to select as a

wife. Yet I congratulate you on your good sense. You are very

ambitious, and you can rise to great distinction if you have the

right influence to aid you. Judge Lawrence, with his wealth and

position, is of all men the one who can advance your interests, and

what more natural than that he should advance the interests of his

son-in-law? You are a very wise youth and I again congratulate you.

No romantic folly will ever ruin your life."

There was irony and ridicule in her voice and face, and the young man

felt his cheek tingle with anger and humiliation. The Baroness had

read him like an open book--as everyone else doubtless would do. It

was bitterly galling to his pride, but there was nothing to do, save

to keep a bold front, and carry out his role with as much dignity as

possible.

He rose, spoke a few formal words of thanks to the Baroness for her

kindness to him, and bowed himself from her presence, carrying with

him down the street the memory of her mocking eyes.

As he entered his private office, he was amazed to see Berene Dumont

sitting in his chair fast asleep, her head framed by her folded arms,

which rested on his desk. Against the dark maroon of her sleeve, her

classic face was outlined like a marble statuette. Her long lashes

swept her cheek, and in the attitude in which she sat, her graceful,

perfectly-proportioned figure displayed each beautiful curve to the

best advantage.

To a noble nature, the sight of even an enemy asleep, awakes

softening emotions, while the sight of a loved being in the

unconsciousness of slumber stirs the fountain of affection to its

very depths.