The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1863-05-08


not class me among them."
81 never have" answered, dryly.
"No, 1 suppose not, he said, smiling
again. "This Is beautiful grove!"
"Very!" answered, feeling that it
was my turn to smile now.
"Have you noticed the arrangement
made for dancers
l shook my head.
"Come this way, then, if you please"
He offered me his arm, which | took
without thinking to thank him. For a
little moment l forgot that the right of
claiming his attention was not mine. 1t
seemed so like old times to be walking by
his side, watching his face and listening to
the tones of his voice. Before / could help
it, l found myself signing long and deeply
Ii John noticed it he was very fOrbearing,
for by look or word he did not reply to it;
but l thought the silence was a little too
long for an ordinary one, so 1 made bold
push to break it. Again l forgot myself.
What a nice place this is! said.
"Do you remember, John, how crazy 1
used to be about dancing? My father
used to say if my heart would always
keep as light as ny feet, life would go easy
with me-
eyes, yes, remember" he replied, I
thought little sadly. evil you dance
with me to-day?"
go, yes, certainly!"
l was glad to have him ask me that.
Of all persons in the world, 1 best loved
to dance with him. l had told him so
hundreds of times, too, so that he Lnew
we'll enough what my smile meant. We
danced together so many times that day,
that the Cranston people-or at least all
of them that attended the picnic-grew
big-eyed with wonder. Noticing how
close they watched us, John said as he
led me to my seat for the last time
"We are saving our good tOwnsfOlk
from great deal of sin, Bessie; because
while they are specializing about such in
nocent sort of people as you and /, they
cannot be talking about worse ones. We
are getting famous!"
was happier that night after l return
ed home, than had been for weeks be-
fore, but my happiness was of short dura-
ton, for after the supper was cleared away,
and while sat by an open window, recall
ing the events of the day, my mother said
| to me:
"Your Aunt Hastings was here to-day,
and she said that John Blaiklie was finish
ing his house on the hill. Did you hear
any thing about it at the picnic?"
"No," said scarcely above whisper
"And she said if Fannie was going to
marry John, she kept it dreadful sly; for
besides picking up a few squares of patch
work, she had not made the first step to-
wards getting ready. What do you think
about it,"
81 think she will be ready as soon as
the house is" l answered, turning my
face towards the window, that she might
not notice the expression of my features.
"Well, take it altogether, Bessie, it's a
queer sort OF business
did not answer, only let my forehead
droop low upon the window seat. Seeing
this, mother came to me and rested her
hand upon my head, and said:
"POor child"
How from my heart 1 blessed her for
her quiet sympathy. The next two weeks
that followed, were sad and tedious ones
to me.
Every way that turned, news of John
Blaiklie's approaching marriage with cous-
in Fannie was poured into my ears; and
even Fannie herself, who had always been
very prudent about it, seemed pleased in
telling rue of the arrangements that were
going on up at Johns new house-Ot this
piece of furniture he had selected, of the
carpets which had been left to her judy
ment exclusively, and of the beautiful
fOnn6 pbipo hot To1. ., rpo1o l,o Il ,>,o
sented him for the little parlor
"You will be very happy,"I said one
day, in answer to all this.
Fannie looked up suddenly into my face.
| thought a quizzical expression drifted
across her features.
How pale you look, Bessie, she said.
"What is the matter with you?"
Nothing, am sure" answered, with
some little show of spirit.
81 am glad Of it; but, indeed, you do
look downright i'll. Won't you 90 up to
the new house with me o-night-perhaps
that will make you feel better l believe
you keep too closely in the house. But
you need not shake your head; you will
60. John will be there, and we will have
pleasant time of it,
And | went in spite of myself although
every step towards the house that was
once to have been mine, was like very
torture to me. o, what pleasant house
it was! and how simply and tastefully
furnished, from the cunning, neatly grained
kitchen to the well carpeted parlors!
Everything was just as had planned it,
a hundred times, in laughing, jocose
way to John. Had he indeed remembered
it all on purpose to torture me with it,
now? 1t seemed so.
EDO You like the house, Bessie ?" he
asked, as if divining my very thoughts.
every much indeed" answered. "Ev-
erything is neat and tasteful Is it too
early to wish you joy?" asked, feeling
that he was expecting me to say some
thing.
"No, not too early, but it may be too
]ate.'
81 do not understand you very clearly"
l said. "But never mind" 1 added, no.
ticing that Fannie had gone from the
room. 81 have wretched headache to-
night, and hardly know what am say
ing"
Headache! when all the time it seemed
as if my heart was breaking!