The weekly union record., 1865-10-14
AGGIE'S CHAIN.

full, as the bassoon and trombone shook
the tremulous waves of sound into
rush that was thunder-v voiced; soft,
sweet, melodious, as the song Of birds
in the prime of summer, when the liquid,
silvery notes of the bugle floated, swan,
sank and died-sank and died with
their own sweetness. Everything was
brilliant, glowing, radiant with the
light from a thousand flashing globes
that shed out their burning lives in
glory over the scene. The gloss OF
shining satin, the glimmer Of pearl, the
fairy floating clouds Of lace, beathing
of frost work, the fash of diamonds, the
feathery plumes, the glitter of gold,
the perfume of flowers ; the grace, the
beauty, the sparkle, the life, made the
quaint old hall very dream of en-
chantment.
In all this brilliance, in the midst Of
the light and flash and glitter, was
girl, one of the dancers. You scarcely
notice her at first, but once having ar
rested passing glance, the eye, with
an interest undehnable, entirely uneX-
plainable to your own consciousness, re-
turned again and again, each time
dwelling longer, until finally lingering
there. In a pause of the dance you
see the slight figure, graceful, elastic,
clothed in some cloudy, floating, shad
owy thing that looked like air made
visible; the head bent slightly forward,
the broad bands woven into a crown
that queed the head like royal diadem,
while here and there, shining out from
the waves, the sheen Of pearl the ten
der, quivering, mobile mouth the wide,
open, full eye, eager, intent, question
ing, with gaze that seemed seeking to
define something unfathomable that the
sensuous music had whispered to the
soul. For an instant only the isola-
ton, the rapt gaze. Two gentlemen
came towards her.
My friend, Ross Latham, Miss
Merle. Aggie, you remember Latham,
| have told you about him hundred
times; and this is the little girl | used
to tell you of, as my lady love, Latham.
Now that we are grown up lady and
gentleman, we think we won't get mar
ried, as our fathers were SC ridiculous
as to be brothers,
The dear tones of Mat Wards
friendly voice sounded pleasant and
CHEEKY, as he brought his two friends
together. The lady raised her eyes to
meet the steady, piercing glance of
those bent upon her face, that she felt
looked always into the secret chambers
within.
I am happy to meet my friend Mats
cousin, Miss Merle. Your name is
very familiar one to me, as have often
heard him mention it.
'And l, too, have often heard yours;
you appear quite like one of my own
friends
Il hope to be remembered among
them
what were you thinking of as we
came up to you?' asked Mat. You
were staring at nothing as intently as
though you were reading your fate. 1t
must have been peaceful one, for your
face looked placid and innocent as a
babes. l know you were dreaming,
Aggie.'
The quick smile, the slight flush on
the pale face answered him.
'Yes, dreaming, do not laugh. | had
better be dreaming than laughing at
my friends. Don't you think so, Mr..
Latham 2
4 will not have you appealing to La
than and having him turn against me
the first evening see him after so long
a time. You are losing your chain,
Agnes. There, pick it up, Latham y
as the golden length slid away from the
slender throat down over the polished
shoulder.
! Insensibly the conversation glided on.