The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1869-02-16
THE BROKEN HEART.
BY MAUD MEREDITH.

where Miselle sat at work; and she had
plucked some of it and fastened it in her
smooth, black hair. Somehow, having
once been placed there,i seemed to have
been planted and grown for no other
purpose. Its very fragrance was, as it
were, part of her modest virgin bloom
and beauty. At least, so Will Harring-
ton thought, rs he stood looking on her.
"Mignonette," he said tenderly, stoop,
ing towards her; then, still more tender
| ly, ''mignonette"
He would not have spoken so to one
who would quite have understood him.
But she, who had 10 lore not TO be gath
cred at the humble school of Sheepdale,
had never heard that mignonette means
'little darling" 1t was no new thing
for VIII to speak softly when he spoke to
her either. SO she looked up, not sur
prised or startled. Perhaps her ear had
caught his footstep, and she said, "Yes,
Mr.. Harrington, / love mignonctte.-
Grandma always says it is foolish of me
to put it in my hair. But l cannot help
it. I've had the habit always; that and
roses 1 pine for, somehow, in their sea-
son. Do you think it foolish? p
"No," said Will. "Foolish, indeed
the prettiest custom ir the world. Girls
should always wear flowers in their hair.
s'Tm glad some one else is silly besides
me-" said .Miselle, with laugh.
She was not perfectly sure of fel
grammar-no one was at Sheepdale; but
she was not vulgar, and just then Will
was inclined to forget everything but
that she was pretty. He was himself a
fashionable gentleman. Until the sum
mer he had never fancied that his heart
could be won by any girl who had moi
style and family, and a thorough acquain
tance with all the requirements of good
society. But here, in this long summer
time of rest and quiet, he had fallen in
love with plain country girl, humble,
even amidst simple people in her posi-.
tion-for she was poor, and the grand
child of two old people who could leave
her nothing. This was the end of hi:
resolve to escape for once from the rou
tine of the fashionable watering places
and ruralize at a farm house.
To think of it seriously gave him mucl
the same feeling that bather eXperien
ces on his first plunge into cold water
I No other living thing was in the garden
save themselves and great golden bee
humming and lowering above the flow
lers.
And Miselle's face was so beautiful
and her hair so velvet black, and hel
eyes like velvet also, only set with dia
monds, and the fragrance of the migno
nette, and the country music that filled
the air, chirrup Of insect and song Of
bird, and family tinkling sheep-bell, al
sanctified the scene. Impediments which
seemed serious when pondering over in
| the solitude of his own room, were myth:
to him in that hour. They were mo-
worth thought
And so Will Harrington drew Miselle
towards him, and looked down into hel
eyes and said, "Miselle, be my mignon
cite, and let me wear you in my hear
forever"
What he meant dawned on her, anC
she blushed and tremhled. Then he
poke more plainly.
81 love you, Miselle. Will you be my
wife p
"And she said-"Yes."
Afterwards, they sat just so for long
while His arm about her waist, hcl
work dropped in herlap under her small
well-shaped, but rather sun-burnt hands
So still that the golden bee lighted upor
the mignonette in Miselle's hair for g
moment and slipped, and flew away,
homeward this time, for the sun was set
ting.
And then voice broke the charm-s
harsh old voice, with a nasal twang.
"Miselle," it said, 'come into tea; an6
Mr. Harrin'tun, p'raps you'd better como
in too"
But the gentleman addressed declined
and took his way homeward. Walking
through the country lanes, he thought
The thoughts were not pleasant.
"But shall take Miselle away" he
muttered. "These people will be moth
ing to us. They have not been too kind
to Miselle, l know We will travel ;
year or two in France and Italy, perhaps
and she will acquire the necessary
manners"
And already he wished that there was
not something to be thought of.
Happily, he did not think when will
Miselle, and the weeks went by pleas
antly; and when they parted, he put al
engagement ring upon her finger, ant
promised to come for her at the end O
autumn.
They were to correspond of course
and that was apleasant thing to Miselle
And he left her with moist eyes, and car
ried little bunch Of mignonette next hi
heart.
The holidays were ended, and ''peopl,
were all back in town again" as th
phrase goes and Will Harrington founc
everything as of yore. There was al
old Irritation, too, which could not wei
be ended while the lady was so willin:
that it should turn into something more
between Miss Beaumont, the heiress,a ,ant
himself And at first, Will did not men
ton Miselle to his friends, because ther
was time enough; and at last, because
was an awkward business, being put oi
SO long. And Miselle wrote too man,
letters, and put them into coarse envel
| opes, and was not careful of her gram
mar. And she spoke far too much O
those old grandparents who were VIII
/ abomlnation. And amidst balls and sup
: pers, and dinner parties, Miss Beaumon
reasserted her supremacy until reproach
es for neglected answers came from Nj
5 selle and veXed her lover
Still he smoothed this overland would
a perhaps, have gone down to Sheepdale t
S keep his troth, had not Miselle write
him, in the fulness of her reconciliation
t a loving letter, in which she spoke of tn
f trials of her grand parents, and of he
joy in looking forward to the time whe
she should have a home to which to we
, come them Those old people, hare
e and coarse, and ignorant, whom he al
borred so-whom he intended to en-