The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1870-02-03

doctors, and ailments, and old age, and
approaching death, coming on so soon
alter the brilliant strains Of youth, and
music. aud romance.
One Catharinc's bright cheeks turn.
ed very pale; the other, who was only
looking on, blushed up, when almost
Immediately after the tea-tray, the door
opened, and Dick and Mr.. Beam;sl,
walked in without beirg announced
mrs: Butler looked up and smiled, and
hel' out her hand. Mr.. Butler cane
strd'ns forwar.i from the back room.
Madame dc Tracy put up her eye-glass ;
ca'har'ne Butler looked down, bu. she
could say "yes" quite quietly to old
Lady Shiveriogton, who asked, in a
loud Whisper, if that was Mr.. Beamish
"Ihe young men come to dinner, time
after time" said tho old lady. noddlng
Fer ancient head, "but they are all SO
much alike / don't know one from an
other"
And so this was all that Catharine
Ea1 come out Of her school-room 70 zee.
Charles Butler had been looking on too
from the other end Of the room, with
little blinking eyes instead Ct dark
fawn-l'ke orbs, and at this stage of the
proceedings he moved out of the way,
and came across and sank down, much
to Msss Georges alarm, In a vacant
armchair beside her. There she sat
IN fer muslin, fair, pretty, soft, with
shy, quick, curious glances; and there
sat: thc.old fellow with his wriukledf face
and thick eyebrows; !; she need not have
been afraid, shough he look somewhat
alarming. II Mr. Bartholomew, who
was standing by, could have known
what was passing in the minds of these
two people, he might have been struck,
had he been romantically inclined, by
the dust they were unconsciously play
ing.
"Matilda has been in great force TO-
night" thought Mr.. Butler; ''but how
her condolences are overpoTering
whispery mystcry-hiss, hiss, hiss -
how she does delight in a love-affair.
If it had been poor unlucky Dick now
but I suppose no woman of sense
would have word to say to him, and
he will make terrible fool Of himself
sooner or later. Eh, eh, We have all
made fools of ourselves 1t is only
about half century since 1 first saw
his mother under the lime-trees. Poor
dear ! poor dear!' aud the old fellow
began to beat tune to a dirge with
his foot as he thought of what was
past. Meanwhile Miss George was
playing her treble in the duet "What
can it be like" the little governess was
thinking, "to love, to be loved, actual
iy to live the dreams and tue stories?
oh, l can not imagine it. Is it like lis
tcning to music ? is it like that day
when We climbed tie hill in the sunset,
my mo:ner and I, higher aad higher,
and i; was all like hca9ep in the valley:
Is there some secret sympathy which
makes quite old and wginkild pcop!,.
Gre when they see such things, or does
one only cease to feel in time? How
calm Catharine looks; she scarcely
speaks to Mr.. Beamish. I can sec
Madame de Tracy smiling and noddiog
her head to her across the room. Can
people care really aud truly, and with
all their hearts, and give no more sign?
What should IL i' were Catharine2:
All =! what am I thinking? 2"
Here Mr.. Butler suddenly gava Il
gru' t ard said,
II am quite convinced the fault of
ell arm-chairs is that they ale not male
deep enough in the seat; my legs are
quite crampcd and stiff from that
abvminablc con.rivancc in which |
have been sitting. I can not imagine
how my brother can go to sleep i'll i;
night after night in the way he does
"Isn't Mr.. Batler's armchair CON-
Portable 2" said Catharine, smiling.
"The children and 1have always looked
at it with respect; We never should ven
ture to sit in it, or not to think it deep
enough in the seat"
81 see Mr.. Beamish is not TOO shy to
occupy the chair Of state," said old
Mr.. Butler, g]ancins at Catharine from
under his thick eyebrows, and uncon-
sc,ously frightening her into silence.
-, (ro DE coNTINuED.)