Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1869-05-14

You having been in the state presup-
posed, will know how it was with Sylvia
after an event like the following. She
was. YOU will remember. in the mood
we have Just discussed, entering on pas
sion which at its fun would have thrown
herself and the whole world beside at the
feet of this beloved. And yet, back of it
all, was the maiden delicacy grown doub-
ly sensitive and ready to take keen alarm
at word.
1t was social evening at Mr.. May
hew's. The parlors We're full-the talk
and passing to and fro very brisk. Not
especially observed as she thought. Flea
ren was soon at her side; hut before long
gay little piece of the world, in the per
son of Miss Euphrasia Lance, came be.
tween them in little breeze of airy, vex-
atious, yet insinuating de tropness. and
the result was that Sylvia found herself,
after brief eye-parley with her compar-
ion, separated from him, and seated
at chess on a thoroughly golden princi.
pie. with good but prosy and pur-blind
DR.. Akerly, the checkered field before
him his world for the time being.
For nearly an hour she saw nothing OF
Elcaren. She was beginning to really
chafe at this quiet puppet-handling which
the doctor enjoyed so much, when the
voice again reached her ear Any other
one at the same pitch she would simply
have heard and not understood, but YOU
know there will be voices for us alone
whose most careless cadence rings clear
rs silver bells.
She could Just distinguish Alfred May
hew's words. though he spoke in n high.
er key. The first were:
Now, Phil. you may as well be honest,
and own you're trapped at last. No
girl in her senses could ever have looked
and acted that way to fellow who hadn't
made himself pretty definite"
1t seemed TO Sylvia as though the blood
had all gone out of her heart. for it hard
ly seemed to quiver in its still suspension,
while her whole face glowed furiously.
so her burning ears took in the second
speakers words
''IIow little You know me. All, to jump
at that silly conclusion | assure You
that no word Of this kind has ever passed
my lips" (But what had he not looked }
"If YOU knew her as well rs | do. You
would never have fallen into this mistake.
She either wants TO be married or wants
TO dirt, and what they vulgarly call the
dead set is her plan of operation. tell
YOU. All, would not marry Venus her
self if that were her style of attack Ny
ideal of the sex can never stoop quite so
low 10 conquer"
Then this was his estimate of her, Syl-
via Farnham, How the tide rolled back
upon her sutfocating heart. How she
disengaged herself from DR.. Akerly she
never knew but what remained of that
evening she spent in shaded corner of
that deserted room-not crying, but
knowing for the first time what real mis-
erv meant. Yet as she donned her hood
with the rest YOU must have looked care
fully at her, and known her well, TO have
told that hers had not been generous
share of the enjoyment of the occasion.
At the hall door she met form she
knew quite too well, waiting. before he
went his own way, 10 bestow her safely
in the carriage. which bore her home
some distance out of town.
What matter if she could not help
thrilling under the old look The one
she gave back was as full Of gathered and
naughty reproach as ever cut keen from
eyes voicing an insultcd heart. His own
glance changed TO one OF surprised en-
auiry. But what of it? He knew his
part well enough, no doubt.
So YOU see il was quite over. The tide
could not well be colder and wider which
flowed between her and him. She did
not meet him very often, but when she
did. that man must have been singularly
ob,use who did not see that the e1eunt
onnes was thenceforth pronounced on all
mental intercourse of his as concerned
herself.
Girls like Sylvia Farnham do not peak
and pine over things of this sort. She
went about her household tasks, as il
were, with more gentleness and efficien-
CIV than ever. The only change outside
seemed that she was more tender and
thoughtful of actual suffering, or posi-
bility of it, than before.
Her nimble needles clicked and glitter
ed among the very first that unsheathed
themselves, on comfortable deeds intent,
for those brave but chilly fellows dwell
Ing IOT the tiliic pcHiS III MAJ '''i o"' wv
airy tents. What if the lines Of thought,
meshed in with every sock all these kind
fair fingers are knitting this winter
were to become visible and palpable as
the homely fabric itself! In and out,
tears never shed, and lonesomeness nev
er spoken, thoughts sad as death. Out
and in, fancies warm and bright as mid
summer of paradise-high tender glows
from full-pulsed heathful hearts. All
these very possibly in single stocking
The too quiet and almost too long days
came and went for Sylvia. "Winter's wild
birthright" was passed, and now the win
| ter,s life was full come in all its storm