The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1867-06-28

made me look again and again, / coult
not understand.
Presently Milly rushed up, painting
and flushed, her hair loosened from tn,
net, and her hat in her hand.
30 Hal ~ she cried, leaning agains
one of the wooden pillars, and speaking
in great hurry; "I have seen youl
friend; she's coming here with hel
sister, and she told me such thing.
about you and so I took q short cut
over the fields, and nearly ran over
your curate, Bell; he was going to cal
| at the manor"
had no gratitude or affection fol
Mrs. Vigne. l remembered too well
her story, and Milly's allusion to the
curatc was gall and wormwood.
so you keep pet curate, Bell" |
began: gossip makes wings, but you'll
scarcely believe heard of your curate,
as Nlilly calls him, before / landed"
Bells face flushed, and then grew
deadly pale but her eyes never
fiinched, looking back into mine with a
steady gaze, defiant and yet sad, with a
something in them that set me think
ing, and kept me so, until a scorching
breath from my cigar reminded me
sharply Of its feeting existence. Throw
ing it down, uttered an exclamation
of anger, thus letting off small bit of
my suppressed indignation gainst Bell.
Now, it is bad plan,-one of the very
worst, indeed,-to take an inch of lati-
tude, when you are secretly angry.
glanced at Bell, as / spoke, and her face
was cold and quiet.
=" Has it burnt you ?" said Milly.
"Just enough to make me wiser for
the future" answered savagely. San
old cigar is like an old love,-apt to
burn out, if kept long" OF course it
was an idiotic, meaningless speech.
knew that at once, and dare not look at
Bells face; so / went on.
"Apropos of nothing, Milly. Do
you remember promising to be woman
when L came home?"
" Yes; and have not kept my prom
ise?" said Milly, with a brighter color
in her face, and her eyes turned away
and fixed upon the gray feather in
Bells hat.
So well, that want to keep mine"
Milly's face turned away little more;
but could see wicked smile lowering
about the corners of her mouth. There
is nothing like uncertainty to spur a
man on; and although I had not the
slightest intention of giving Bell up
without making fight for it, nor was
I in love with Milly, yet in spite of
these things, rushed on, until l was
as good as in for both, and had not vol
ces from the house suddenly broken in
upon the silence, scarcely know what
the immediate result might not have
been. AS it was, Milly Sointed up the
lawn, where I saw Mrs. Vigne, with
very handsome man by her side, at
whom she was launching her full bat
terry of mods and wreathed smiles.
"Bell," whispered Milly, "she's got
your curate."
Bell made no reply; but rising, went
to meet the party. sat still; and Mil.
ly stood watching them with angry eyes.
You don't like the grass-widow,
Milly," whispered.
hate her," was the candid answer;
and her sister too. / cannot think
how men are such fools as TO believe in |
women like those"
There was no time for more; Mrs. |
Vigne was upon us, and eloquent in her
reproachful inuendoes, as to my du-
plicity in not avowing myself on board |
the steamer She was still talking when |
Bell interrupted, presenting the curate,
rs "Nlr. Calvert, my cousin Harry"
Mr.. Calvert's eyes met mine as we
made our mutual bows. They were
blue, honest eyes, hiding a depth of
in the clear light, and utterly
incapable of concealment. / liked the
ook of the man, nor had my liking les
'ened when we adjourned to the draw
ng-room for five o'clock tea. After |
which Mrs. Vigne and her sister depart
I'd, leaving Calvert, who had proven |
blind and deaf to the hints thrown out
of his being driven home,
beside me on the doorstep,
the ponies go down the drive.
Sharp little woman, your Indian |
FRIEND" said Calvert, with queer, dry
smile.
Women are utterly incOmprehensi- |
Die from first to last" said, the ugly
feeling springing up.
What is a woman likc?" laughed |
Calvert.
"Fnlse-hearted and ranging,
Unsettled and changing,
What then do you think sho Is like?
Like sand7 Like rock?
Like wheel? Like a clock?
Ay, clock that is always at strike.
Her heads like the island folks tell ON,
Which nothing but monkeys can dwell on,
Her hearts like a lemon,-So nice;
She carves for each lovcra slice.
In truth she's to me
Like the wind Ike the sea,
Whose ra wings will hearken to oman.
Like u thief like - in brief
she's like nothing on earth but-a woman
The curate stayed to dinner, and l still {
liked him. Not that | felt at all like 4
he immortal Mr.. TOots. My affections
we're by no means disintcrested and if |
le was really rival, | could hate him,
10 doubt but then somehow l could not
econcile Calvert with the notions of
ival.
"What handsome fellow your GU
ate is" whispered to Bell, as we
'ned the girls in the drawing-room.
| like him in spite of Mrs. Vignc's