The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1868-03-12


highly finished and graceful, voice
replete with courtesy-even tender
ness.
Our conversation naturally turned
upon West Indian life, and | ex-
pressed a fervent desire to witness the
strange beauty and luxuriance of its
vegetable and animal life. He turned
his eyes full upon me with a search
ing look
Yes; their life and climate would
just suit your temperment-warm,
passionate, luxuriously indolent. You
should live there"
I colored, and replied with saucy
I toss Of the head. that if he could see
me sometimes, he would not call me
lazy.
" Perhaps not; there is a fire slum-
/ bering dangerously near the surface, /
/ allow, was his loW-toned reply, keep
ing his dreamy eyes on my face; =" but
repose suits your style better than ac-
ton, l should judge. Do you sing"
{" A little
" May | hear your"
| Immediately obeyed for his words,
/ though IN the form Of a request, were
a positive command, and took my seat
at the piano.
4 l suddenly remembered an old air
/ of tempest and death that l had heard
when little child, and trusting to
! inspiration, swept the keys and burst
4 into a wild, impassiOned melody. l
was completely lost in my theme, and,
as the last notes died shudderingly
away, dashed the tears from my eyes
and turned, but gave a frightened
scream at the apparition before me
! The two gentlemen were gazing at me,
| perfectly obligiOus Of all else; but
1 behind them, In the doorway,
stood a little figure with wide,
/ staring eyes. 1t was Ianthe, her
Light-robe falling around her, and
] her head bent forward, while a
/ world of agonized wonder looked out
4 from her eyes. At my cry, she glided
away, and mlnUte after, L heard
Mammy's voice Gliding her Ia her
\ strange, Indian gihberish
A merry laugh and few careless
words explained my agitation, and
then followed an evening, to one, at
least. almost heavy with lmpassiOned
rapture.
/ Every look and word of cur guest
drove the blood more swiftly through
my veins, and thrilled along my
nerves, until I felt as if the whole
current of my life we're changed.
Much to my grief, Mr.. St Clair left
early in the morning, aud I had only
a wild, misty dream to comfort me !;
but on this | feasted, hoping for his
next visit, which / felt sure would
not be long delayed
NJ I.t4Io T,-4Lo
strange perp.exing study. All day
long she would sit in listless. dreamy
way, never speaking, but with her wild,
dark eyes fixed upon me. Sometimes
she would caress the dog, or, at papa $
hearty toss and merry laugh, smile,
like a fash Of sunshine, would light
up her face, which the next moment,
would be buried In his bosom.
But she never caressed me-scarce-
ly ever spoke, only watched every
movement, until | felt a strange ner-
vOusness whenever In her presence.
| At length, one day, turned hastily,
when unusually disturbed by her
watchfulness, with the impatient
words" For Heavens sake, Ianthe,
! what is there about me that makes
1 you watch me so closely.
! She drew a long sigh and clasped
her hands as if in ecstacy. " Oh, if [
we're only beautiful, like you! Then
her luminous eyes grew misty with
tears, and she covered them with her
little brown hand.
| was by her side in a moment.
" Ianthe, my darling, you are
/ pretty, child You have lovely
eyes, and if you will go out doors, run
about and ride horseback, you will
soon grow plump aud rosy But,
ter al, what does beauty amount to?
1t won't make people love you, unless
you're good.
Oh, if it would only make him
look at me as he did at you, with all
his heart in his eyes. Did you see
him, Cousin Blanche? l would de
for such a look
| gazed at the child in amazement,
with a thrill, half of pain, half terror
| knew whom she meant but | did
not know She cared so much for St
Clair, and--shall L confess lt?-the
knowledge brought with IL jealous
} pang.
TO BE CONTINUED