The Union and journal., 1869-08-13

der. brooding warmth Of perfect June
The sky was deep blue, fecked here ant
there with fleecy white, and over the shin
ing fields, causeless, uncertain shadows
of those white clouds, perhaps, waveret
bloom, and the climbing vines around the
verandah glowcd with crimson-heartet
blossoms.
Miss Desmond had gathered some o.
the palest, and put them in her hair. They
drooped low and their perfect pink height
ened little the softer bloom Of her checks
She wore them also in the belt of hei
white dress, and other ornament she had
none. Akcnside, coming up from the
gate and seeing her lean against pillar,
thought that SO Miranda might have look.
cd when Ferdinand saw her for the first
time. The fancy was inconsequent and
idle rs most of his fancies were. for there
was speculation in Miss Desmond's eyes,
an insight into men and things, which
was never caught in Prospero's enchant-
ment.
Just rs he reached her side. Maud flashed
out n perfect Fay Vivien. in brilliant green.
Her beauty was of that piquant and fas-
cinating kind which Is constantly chang
ing, and seems, with every change, to have
taken out new radiance. Akenside had
been poetizing to himself about Blanche
Just before; but somehow Maud, all CLINT
and grace and sparkle, put his fancies to
flight with the first CLEAN of her presence.
A man had followed him with port
manteau, which, at sign from his mas
ter. he put upon n chair ON the verandah,
and vanished Akenside took out key
and fiourished IL.
"Now ladies'" he said. "imagine me a
magician. / can give you, being so, what
ever you may wish. What will you have
silks, laces, cashmeres or jewels?"
"a heart" Maud answered saucily.
He turned the key, and lifted the cover
of the portmanteau. Then he drew out
the dantiest of inlaid boxes, in which he
touched little spring and revealed IN
Etruscan chain of the most exquisite work
manship. From this he silently took of
and replaced i'm the box coral hand.
carved with the daintiest art of the Neap-
olitans and left on the chain. sole pendant,
heart of the most perfect shade of pink
coral. wrought also with the exquisiteness
You find nowhere outside of Naples. Then
with the utmost gravity, he hung the
chain round Maud's neck.
ats your turn now," he said to Blanche.
''What will you have?"
~ lily," Miss Desmond answered smil-
ing. "You used To call IL my symbol"
She thought that now she had put the
magician to his trumps but there was a
curious light in his eyes. He bent over
his Golfer, and said over some foreign
words which might have been IN incanta-
ton. Then he took something from 1t,
and laid the something in her hand. 1t
was little caskct of carved ivory, which
opened and disclosed brooch and ear
rings of pearls-each ring the loveliest
dropping lily bell, the brooch cluster of
them.
'Thc poor magician did not forget the
lily of home,n he said. not vcnturing to
put on Miss Dcsmond's ornaments rs he
had her sisters but looked Mt her entreat-
ingly. She had meant TO take none of his
gifts; but this one, so exquisite in itself,
so delicately suggestive of the remem-
brance in which he had held her, she could
not refuse. So she hung the rings in her
ears, and claspcd the brooch Mt her throat,
and there was, or Akenside thought so, n
shade more of bloom on her cheek, %
glcam more of brightness in her eyes.
For Maud. there were ornaments of the
carven coral To match her hcart-roscs
exquisite, over one of which bee hover
ed, fastened by art so delicate that 1t
seemed poised in the air. Maud had been
the rose of the old time, rs Blanche the
lily, and now In her turn, q gay triumph
glanced i'm her eyes. He gave her sandal
wood, also. for she liked powerful odors,
and otto of roses, each drop holding the
distilled sweetness Of an eastern garden
but Blanche would take nothing more. In
vain he shook out oriental silks, shawls
heavy with patent stitches, laces like cob
webs. Even Maud protested that she
should care nothing for her coral roses,
and carved sandal wood. if she had TO be
weighed down like Chinese idol. So
silks and shawls and laccs were packed
up, and Maud told him they must be kept
for the only woman who could with pro-
priety wear them-his wife.
"And If she never comes" uttcring n
last remonstInnce, rs he turned the key.
"Then you may leave them to me in
your will"
'What satire il Is on our belief in inn
mortality" Blanche said, "that we can
take gifts so much more readily from the
dead than from the living. We are all
heather in our instincts, and fancy those
who have died ont of our sight are mere
dust and ashes. done with forever"
perhaps You women shrink from the
gifts of the living lest the giver should
claim too much in return Akensidc VEN
tured. bending down toward Blanche, and
sending his eyes downward through hers
into her soul TO search out If he might, its
secret thrills.
Maud had not noticed this by-play. She
had brought out her hand-mirror, and was
looking into it ut herself and her coral
roses.
"What could You ask that l would not
give i'm return for these, even TO the half of
my kingdom'" she cried, gaily.
Akenside turned TO her then, and saw
the amber eyes which some new radiance
kindled, the cheeks flushed with soft bloom,
the gold-rcd hair tumbled out of It's silken
net, such as Titan painted for his bella
donna, ages ago, and if Blanche had
swayed him moment before, n yet more
powerful magnetism drew him now TO
Maud.
Was soul or sense strongest in this man.
This was the question the Fates were try
ing to solve, using these two women rs
tests. But he did not know it. He was
conscious of strange confusion Of ideas.
If only he could be in the world with one
of these two, without the other!
The Fates smiled, and gave him, in
effect, this opportunity also. Maud was
sent for by her godmother not fairy
godmothcr, but rich old aunt of her
fathers who had named her, and from
whom she had great expectations. The
girl cared little for money. having never
known the want Of il. She would willing
ly have thrown up the whole affair, let the
great aunt nurse her rheumatism and her
wrath in solitude, and make her will in
favor of the other branch of the family,