The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1858-08-06
From the Atlantic Nonthly.
THE ROMANCE OF 4 GLOVE.

"IIalt I" cried my travelling com
panion. q" Property overheard -
The driver pulled up his horses and
before | could prevent him, Westwood
leaped down from the vehicle, and ran
back for the article that had been drop
ped.
1t was a glove,-my glove, which had
inadvertently thrown out, in taking my
handkerchief from my pocket.
{" Go on driver :" and he tossed it into
my hand as he resumed his seat in the
open stage.
"Take your reward" | said offering
him a cigar; "but beware of rendering
me another such service -
of it had been your hat or your hand
kerchiet, be sure | should have let it lie
where it fell. But gloye,-that is differ
ent. Ioncc found romance in glove.
Since then, gloves are sacrcd.' And
Westword gravoly bit of the end Of his
cigar
\ romance? Tell me about that.
am 1iIcu Ok SiIIs CnuIoss s1rctoa' -.s~ss-i.sl.s
country, these regular ground-swclls and
its good two-hours' ride yet to youder
headland, which juts out into yonder prairie
between Us aud the setting sun. Mean
while your romance.
Did say romance | fear you would
hardly think it worthy Of the name," said
my companion. Every life has its re-
mantle episodes, or, at least, incidents
which appear such to him who experiences
them. But these tender little histories
are usually insipid enough when told. |
have a maiden aunt, who once came SO near
having an offer from pale STRIPPING, with
dark hair, seven years her junior, that to
this day she often alludes to the circum-
stances, with the remark, that she wishes
she knew some competent noycl-writcr in
whom she could confde, feeling sure that
the story of that period Of her life would
make the groundwork of Il magnificent
work Of fiction. Possibly | inherit my
aunt's tendency to magnify into oxtraor-
dinary proportions trihcs which look at
through the double convex lens Of a per
sonal interest. So don't expect to much
of my romance, and you shall hear it.
said | found it in glove. 1t was
by no means a remarkably glove,-mid-
dle-sizcd, straw -colored, and neat fit for
this hand, in which | now hold your very
excellent cigar. OF course there was a
young lady in the case let me sec,-I
don't believe can tell you the story" said
Westwood, CATER all :"
l gently urged him to proceed.
" Pshaw :" said he, after kindling his
cigar with few vigorous whilts, " what
the use of being foolish? Ny aunt was
never diflident about telling her story, and
why should | hesitate to tell mine! The
Young lady's name,-ye'll call her simply
Margaret She was a blonde with hazel
eyes and dark hair. Perhaps you never
heard of blonde with hazel eyes and
dark hair? She was the only one | ever
saw; and there was the finest contrast
imaginable between her fair, fresh complex
ion and her superb tresses and delicatcly-
traced eyebrows. She was certainly
lovely, if not handsome; and-such eyes
1t was an event in ones life, Sir, just to
look through those luminous windows
into her soul That could not happen
every day, be sure Sometimes for weeks
she kept them turned from me, the ivory
shutters halEclosed, or the mystic curtains
of reserve drawn within; then, again,
when l was tortured with unsatiiicd
yearnings, almost ready to despair, she
would suddenly turn them upon me, the
shutters thrown wide, the curtains away,
and flood Of radiance streaming forth
that filed me 50 full of light and gladncss
that had no shadowy nook left in me for
doubt to hide in. She must have been
conscious of this power Of expression -
She used it so sparingly, and it seemed to
me, artfully But | alwa. forgave her
when she did use it, and cherished resent
ment only when she did not.
Margaret was shy and proud ]
could never completely win her conf
dence; but l knew, | knew that her heart