The Vermont transcript. [volume] (St. Albans, Vt.) 1864-1870, 1868-01-24

ment elapsed ere it came, and when it
did, these were the very words: Ed
gar, you know | love you-you have
known it ever since | was an attentive,
listening pupil of yours, sitting in your
presence, and listening to words OF
wisdom falling from your lips. But,
Edgar, | am watched; my every act is
spied over by him whom circumstances
has made my father You know he
has, as 1t were, given me away to that
hateful Clifton Cordway But wait
and watch remain true to me, as |
shall to you, and all will be we'll
heard the schoolmaster say, God bless
you, dar!ingr | then hurried away.
You see, Gill, the schoolmaster holds
the winning hand: there is something
strange about the fellow, something /
cannot, nor do l pretend to under
stand"
Clifton Cordway ground his teeth
furiously together. He arose, and
paced the apartment with quick, an
cry strides He clenched his hands.
and knit his brow into frown. He
saw trouble ahead from this humble
schoolmaster. The door-bell sounded
a letter was handed ill., Cordway
glanced over it casually. and tossed it
CONTEMPORARY towards his friend.
The letter ran as follows:
My Dear Clifton. We have ar
ranged for tomorrow. a horseback
party to visit the Crystal Lake. OF
course, the time would not be pleas
antly spent were you not along.
write this note, and Dora your Dora
consents to it, to ask that you viii
come. Be at Clover Hill by eight A.
NJ, and bring with you Mr.. Meiford.
Yours very truly,
JOSEPH ALNoNTE.
7. Dora is an obstinate thing,
you know, and / have been forced to
yield to her desires, in one particular,
though it was distasteful to me. She
insists Oh having Mr. North along
her old teacber-who, she says, long
ago, promised to botanic with her. l
don't like the arrangement taking in
to consideration those gossiping tales
afoat some time since; but, as they
viii be under our eyes, why, no harm
can come from INDUCING her BY the
by, Clifton, did you know that, some
bow or other, discredit those stories?
However, Edgar North is Edgar North,
the schoolmaster. to me, and never
can be anything else. I hate presum-
ing poverty as heartily as you do, my
boy mark that j. A."
"Sball we 80 p queried 1lelford
"Of course" returned the other
perhaps fitting opportunity may
occur for me to chastise that hound;
for on the least proyocation, l swear
to YOU, Sam, [ shall cane the fellow in
the streets Of Arden; and then SIC Will
see if, like a whipped spaniel, he'll go
whiningto Dora Almonte to have her
bind up his wounds
The shades Of evening had settled
over the village Of Arden Here and
there the street lamps were already
lighted, and finging their friendly rays
over the cold, half-deserted thorough
fares. Two closely mniiled figures
silently walked the quiet streets, be-
1elth the shade of the opposite houses.
One was a slight female figure, which
clung confdingly on the arm of tall,
imperious figure. On they walked,
without interchaDging a word. Al
length they passed the last lamp, had
left behind them the last house, and
were now far beyond the limits of the
rambling village Suddenly Y
turned aside from the street, and dis
appeared in the wood that bordered
on the creek.
" lis hard, Dora, said the man, in
deep, mellow tones, as they halted at
the foot of large beech, chat we
should be forced to this secresy Of
movement this hiding as it were, from
honesty OF open hand work. Oh, God"
he muttered, as if to himself, chow
long how long,
"'What were you saying, Edgar ?"
queried the girl, quickly and gently
her soul going out in sympathy to-
wards her companion.
"'Tis nothing, almost nothing, Dora,
and it has passed now But, dearest,
tell me what your note implied |
could not understand it, rs some Of
the ciphers were iudistinct.
1t was written under my fathers
ewes. Edgar; he fancied | was engaged
in deciphering the old monumental
hieroglyphs of the East, for the text
lay before me"
The other smiled sweetly, and then
covered the girls shoulders with his
own cloak, for the evening air was
chilly and raw.
"But, Edgar, we have arranged to
take ride tomorrow in the Hills. /
should say, papa arranged it. OF
course, Mr.. Cordway and his shadow
must be along. 1t is a pity, Edgar,
she said, abruptly and innocently, that
YOU are not rich, but-but--well, new
er mind. l told papa, that you, too.
must come along, for you had prom
ised to teach me some parctical botany,
and-and- my face was so IN
nocent, Edgar, and my manner SO be-
seeching, that, for a wonder, papa con-
sented So, thanks to that stroke OF
mine, l will be spared the impertinent
annoyance, to a certain extent, at least.
of that odious Cordway, who thinks OF
nothing but money; and thinks of me
only for the sake Of my prospective
dowry. Do you know, Edgar. that |