Litchfield enquirer., 1862-09-25
LUTE.
A STORY OF THE PRESENT REBELLION

Fioated out on the fragrant air the waltz music burning delirous. The rich bloom on Lute'i brown cheek depened into the red of wet coral. or the fuschias that burned in the snow of hel dress and dropped among her broad black braid and the long eye-lashes fell with snddsn sweep to hide the pleasure flashing too brightly in he, lustrous eyes, Jack Csntyres name was on line with the Guest Werber'' on her tablets. He was coming across the room to claim her hand, and she tan glsd the chains of her fan and her bouquet hol der inextricably together. The liking ofa year could no longer be masked by cold tones and words. It struggled about her mouth, looked shyly from her downcast eyes, spoke in the very ! tremur of the little hand resting in h,s as they glided of into the wild mnsic grooming, quiver- ing, and whirling about them, making itself one with emotion, and part of the thrill and shad. dered delight pulsing their every vein. In the center of the brilliant rooms he bent low his handsomr head till his bright hair touch. ed her glowing cheek, and whispered Farewell, lovel"
 Lute looked up aghast her eyes met his full of tenderness and warning, The music fainted died almost away
 "As was saying" went on Jack steadil y "this waltz-beat is noticeable in all-'
 It bursts out again, his voice sank low, his lips mumured close in her ear:
 "I came here to say farewell Walls have cars, writing may betray. I leave Nashville to- night"
 Another whlrl and rush of music then Luts's voice faint and trembling:
 "Leave for what 2"
 "For our Country, Lute-for the Stars and Strpes-for the Union :"
 He frightened his grasp as she spoke, for she seemed falling. Another turn took them with in the arch of the conservatory door. A fall of Hsecy curtains separated them from the glaring heated rooms and the faint rays streaming from single globe of ground glass alone did battle with it's shadows. He drew her into the dim nest corner, still holding her fast. She strus- ged slightly with timid hands tried Intellectually to free herself from his firm clasp, then dropped her face crimson even in darkness lower, till it was hidden quite on his shoulder.
 1.-Two hours later, shall be flying like fel On, travelling in the darkness hiding by day, hun ted down, perhaps like dog or slave" said he hurriedly, Think how little heart Lad for this; but could not go without saying goodbye to you.'
 "Where is the need 2" she asked with shud- der
 "Every need-the direst. Our flag and our Government are not idle wors, Lute-showy in sigma brought out to grace galaday, nothing worth in themselves They have bean our very life and breath all these years aud like the air, because unseen, they have been unvalued-their very existence almost denied. Now the day oi our trial is upon usand let him be called COW ard and slave who shrnks or fallers." "And l."
 The words escaped unconsciously. She was thinking of that dear head lying low in some ditch or on some mountain ridge, upturned blankly to the sky, cold and dead. His stern set face relaxed suddenly, and the dark flame in his eyes melted into infinite tenderness.
 You dear! will you care? Will you wear heart mourning for me if I fallf
 A tear gittering on her cheek in the faint light, was her answer. He stopped to kiss it a. way, but voices came psrilously near. The waltz was done.
 "Give me something of yours that has been near you," he whispered.
 She undid the belt that encircled her trim waist, and gave it with its gold and azure clasps into his hand
 "God bless you, keep you from all harm, and bring you back to me!'
 Her voice sank so low that he could scarcely catch the concluding words; but there was no time for an answer. A sudden ray of light shot in through the parted curtains, soft footballs and silken srustliugs sounded close by them. He bent low over her. and pressed his lips to hers. Merry voices called them-the Philistines were upon them. L.ute answered with careless laugh, he with jest, as they mingled with the crowd. Who could have dreamed of that burn. ing kiss, that voiceless farewell.
 An hour after, exclaimed Evelyn Devereux the hostess, "Lute Loder, do you know you have lost your belt and those lovely clasps r. what pity! thought I had never seen any thing 50 pretty shall have the servants look everywhere"
 Lute smiled faintly at the thought of such pro6tless looking. Miles away at that very mo ment, it was rising and falling with every pulss of the heart of Jack Centyre, as he rode steadi ly and swiftly on in the darkness.
 Let those who have kept vigil through lonf months with hope and fear, tell how the wear, ensuing days passed for Lute, if words can tell If there is any expression for an undylng hear sickness, nsvsr cesslng terror. From societ, she was presently ostracissd. Came there on' day, Mrs. Rawlinsop, the outward and visibl sign of that inward and mysterious essence ,prin ciple or quality, known as the "ton," indignation throred on her bushy eyebrows, determination ensconced about the corner of her mouth.
 "Ah come here, you naughty child" va her salutation. as Lute entered. "we were talh iug of you, were we not. Miss Primly r
 Aunt Rachel, who interpreted aright the om
 nous quiet of the lips and mouth in her some |. -Hs