The mountain Democrat., 1864-03-19

riets neck. Miss Beauchamp looked dis.
turbed.
Has Jack done anythingf Ny dear
ROsamond, don't cry SO; and dOn't-if
you can help it-keep me in suspense
You know how dear that cousin Of mine
is to me. 1t would 60 near to breaking
my heart if Jack did anything wrong
anything"
She paused in great agitation.
Her distress spoke so plainly in her
voice that Miss Darlington sat up and
hastened to say: He has not done any
thing wrong, of course not How could
you think it Of him . minute, Harriet
But-but | have thought for some time,
and now I'm sure, that Jack does not care
one bit about me-there 2
'RosamOndl Jack not care for YOU |!
Well, that is the very widest caprice that
ever entered the head Of spoiled beauty.
Why, what has the poor fellow done now,
that you should think SO?
And Miss Beauchamp laughed, for she
fell immensely relieved.
ROsamond turned away her head. 1T is
not anything he has done,' she began, and
then stopped.
But something he has left undone.-
All, Rosamond, that is a much more Sc.
riOus matter, for now all sorts of intangi.
bilities come into question. Ny dear.
am very sorry to hear this. Tell me, il
you can, what put it into your head
i can't tell you any one thing Rosa
mond burst out impetuously; they are
so many, and so little, you would laugh.
know you would, if were to put them
into words; and yet they all go to prove
one thing and I'm sure oft. Harriet, do
you think | could think so on light
grounds3 Is it such pleasant conviction
to come to, that the man | am to marry
IN six months does not love me one bit 2
The sweet face crimsoned all over, the
little foot beat nervous tattoo on the
carpet Miss Beauchamp looked grave.
We'll, RuSamond. il | am not to hear
your reasons, can't judge of their value.
But must say one thing and that is, that
whatever you may like to imagine, | am
quite sure that John Walsingham loves
you as q good, true hearted gentleman
does love the woman he has asked to be
his wife
asked to be his vile! Yes, there it
is, cried Rosamond; Jack never did ask
the to marry him, at least not as men
ought to do. He grew up to think We
were to marry some day. We both knew
our fathers and mothers had settled all
that for US. 1t is not as if Jack had cho-
sen me of his own free will. OF course
know he likes me well enough as his old
playfellow and companion; but as for low
| ing me. as men do love women they want
to marry, he does not the least bit in the
world And it's q horrid, abominable
thing to be thrust upon a man who does
not care for you and | say again, I'm a
miserable woman
But the miserable woman, instead of
abandoning herself to tears, as on the FIRST
occasion of her announcement of her con
dition, started from her seat, and paced
| the room to and fro with a crimson face
ard a charming air Of insulted dignity
While Miss Brauchamp looked on in some
dsnay, a sweet, long -drawnou whistle
came stealing through the great open
/ windows.
There's Jack = said Miss Beauchamp,
going towards the window whence the
sound came nearest. Rosamond stopped
and looked irresoute, but she came no
nearer the window. Miss BeauchaInp
looked out.
We'll. sir, good morning!
'Ah, Harry the top Of the morning to
you, my dear. Where's Rosamond ?
Here; do you want her?'
OF course. What a question TO ask an
adoring lover! Tell her to show her fair
face at the window, and III not miss the
sun when he goes behind that cloud that's
sailing up with the wind. There, Har-
riet; can trust you to repeat that pretty
speech? LII be bound Horace never says
anything half so neat to you
'Rosamond, he wants you,' Miss Beau
champ SAID, looking back into the room.
Miss Darlington walked slowly to the
window, and looked down on the gentle
man who waited on the lawn below. lie
was not otherwise thar pleasant sight to
look upon, as he stood careles>ly waiting,
with the sunshine glinting off the bright
curlS of his handsome head, and simmer
ing liz his flowing tAwny whiskers. He
looked up when she came TO the window,
but she was in the shadow of the curtain,
and he did not notice the sober gravity Of
her face.
'Rosamond, I have come to tell you it's
the sweetest morning Of all the year.
Will my gracious lady permit her slave to
order the horses, and 60 with him for a
delicious canter over Barnton Downs.'
i don't care about riding to-day said
Ro>amond. slowly.
No care about riding to. o.day! Why.
my child. it's a day Of Gays for Gally.
There's the sweetest breeze over the
downs, anG the larks are singing like
like mad; and He broke off with a
laugh. I'm not good at the descriptive,
but give you my word its the most glo-
riouS day 7
YES. but can't ride to-day, thank
! YOU
Won't you, really? Well, then, !
! think I'll take run over and call at the
Dacres' you know ought TO have gone
ever So long ago. You really will not
come. Rosy2'
! No
We'll, then, I'm off. Here, Countess
Sweetlips HE. lass Good.by, ladies,
til dinner time and whiStIing his dogs
round him. the easy lover strobe away
over the dewy lawns toward the stables.
Miss Darlington looked at her friend.
Yes, that is how it is she said bitter
". He does not care whether I am with
him or not. He'll go over to Harper's
Court and ride with Flora Dacres, and be
Just as content with her as he would with
me. Harriet, you would not be content
to be loved in that fashion by Mr.. Waugh
AMI
Because that easy fashion. of loving is
not Horace Vaughan's, but it is Jack Wal