The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1868-10-10

pretty and agreeable; the celebration would
have been nothing without her. Father
would not have allowed it, eithcr-he is so
proud Of her. | am, too we all are. And
| think you will admire Her when you see
her. Indeed, you can't help it. Everybody
docs.''
He seemed slightly amused at my enthu-
siasm.
mo doubt; but 1 caution you that, as
general rule, don't like beauties. And
to return to the picnic. Why couldn't your
mother stay?'
"She wanted to. Indeed had hard
work persuadng her to go but knew she
needed the rest and refreshmcnt. She works
SO hard for us all''
. Then it was at your own request that
you were left at home? 1t was a voluntary
sacrifice?
" 1t is hardly worth calling a sacriice,''
said, hanging my head with thrill of shame
at the remembrance of the outbreak be had
witnessed.
He must have remembered it, too, for,
bending over to look into my blushing face,
he said, g Was that what you were crying
about ?''
" | was very silly and wicked but had
struggled against it all day. Icouldn't help
it, indeed
And glanced up timidly. What was it
In his eyes that made my own fall abashed
before them, and caused the blood to flush
so rosily in my cheeks?
1 could not tell he only said, very softly,
" Poor child" Yet l felt that another
moment would bring repetition of the out
burst, so springing up hastily, said:
80 must go to the house now and see if
grandma has awoke. VIII you come? I
can give you some cold ham, biscuit, and a
cup of tea, for your supper, and little mu-
sic afterward, if you will stay and wait for
the party
=" l don't know but that l ought to say,
No, thank you, but am particularly fond
of cold ham and biscuit, and fonder still of
little music afterward," he added, rising
to follow me.
| warn you,': l said doubtfully, as we went
in. I" am not bit taleuted, you know;
Lucy is the smart one.''
"And Bessie the beauty. What depart
ment, then, do you clamp
ooh, I'm nothing in particular. Charles
calls me Jack of all trades. l think pie
making is my peculiar accomplishment
You shall have piece of my cherry pie for
your supper; that is, if you ever engage in
the article at that meal. know it isn't just
the thing"
He laughed.
I" will try piece at all hazards. This
is the house, is it not? And is that grand
ma at the window?''
yes"
And hurried in, to ask anxiously if she
had been long awake, and il she had wanted
me.
No child, not at all. But what gentle
man is that you have with you? Seems to
me know his face; anyhow, he's as hand
some as PICTURE Before l could answer
he was at my side, hat in hand.
g Grandma, this is Mr.. Lston, son of
mothers old friend; don't you know?''
g Yes, yes; | remember. Mary Sey-
mour's son. Well | might have known
He's her very image. Do sit down, and tell
me how your mothers health is now. And
where are you living ?" she asked, with her
face full of interest.
And knowing that grandma, once reused
to conversation, would make most admir-
able hostess, l slipped away to perform one
or two highly important duties. First, l
must spread the suppcrtaLle with deli
cate damask cloth. and the dainty "best
china Then, cut the ham, set the tea to
draw; bring from the spring house a dot of
fresh butter; select from the pantry plate
of mothers snow white biscuit, and my own
ice-looking cherry pie; and then, after
having given an approval at the tout ensemble
of the dining room, fly up stairs to brush
my disordered curls, battle my red eyes, and
exchange my chintz dress for the more ap-
propriate blue lawn.
Descending again to the parlor, found
grandma descanting, after fashion of her
own, upon the virtues of each member of
the family; entered, in fact, just in time to
hear her say with emphasis:
"Well, l don't care what other folks say
for my part think little Fay the flower of
the flock p"
And, to catch the strangers grave
6 | do not doubt it,
That would not do at all, l thought; so l
interrupted the conversation by the an
nouucement of supper.
1t was certainly the most pleasant OF all
pleasant meals. We fingered around the
table until we could no longer distinguish
each others features in the growing twilight,
and grandma declared that her bed time had
slipped by unnoticed. Then, conducting
our guest 10 the parlor, | left him, until
had seen her comfortably settled for the
night, and heard her say, with her good
night kiss:
SIT has been a very pleasant evening,
Fay, hasn't it. He is noble fellow, just
like his mother Bless him ~
Returning to the parlor, spent happy hour
with our guest. He conversed delightfully."-. He
re quested me to sing, with which request
complied, and seceived his warmest thanks
He, in return, sang three sweet songs, with a
fullness and richness of expression that never
heard before. When the last words had died
upon his lips he said, decisively:
mo more music tonight. You are as sensi-
tive as wind flower, Miss Fath,'
Then rising to go, he took my hand, and hold
ing it with a soft pressure, he added:
You need some one to care for and cherish
you, as they would bird or gem-anything
that is rare and precious. Do you know it, lit
tie Faith
l think it was his tone, more than his words,
that made my heart thrill with new yet
strangely sweet sensation yet only said very
quietly:
But you are not going yet, Mr.. Liston7 ]
think hear the sound of the carriages already.
Surely you will stay and see mother?''
"Not tonight he answered. Then with n
off, hat IL l., \,