Centre Hall reporter. [volume] (Centre Hall, Pa.) 1868-1871, 1871-03-10
WILL WALK WITH YOC.

Ihaye been proud and said, ''Aly love, my own.
WILL WALK WITH HOC.
Vesey Welles stood upon the hearth-rug
in the long, low drawing room, awaiting
the coming Of hergueStS. Ordinarily she
might be a trihe pale-quiet, possibly
though with depths quickly stirred by the
dropping Of careless stone. Tonight she
was flushed, tremuloaS. excited.
"By the way,n said her father, pauSing
nc the door rs he passed through the hall.
II met that young minister-IIayeS, you
know-this morning. and asked him up 10
dinnern
But don't know responded yesey,
as he passed on, her eyes growing wider
and wider in dismay: II don't know him
at all. And tonight Of all nights = she
halssobbed, pulling at the flowers in the
porcelain vase before her, until the one red
rose dropped all its petals at her feet.
Ii was 10 be the last OF the pleasant eve
nings that had frightened all the winter.
Darrel Winslow and his mother were com
ing 10 dine with them once more before
gong home They had been boarding at
the hotel just above, two or three months.
VeSey had built so many hopes upon this
evening. But now
She was fastening bunch Of daphne
sweet-Seented, velvet-leafed-in her belt
when Paul entered the room. " Passing
fair r. he said TO himself, at glimpse Of
the bent head.
The Rev. Paul Hayes n announced the
servant. She turned quickly, not catching
the name, hearing only the sound Of feet
and the opening of the door. But the
flush upon her face was not for him.
"I-I am Miss Welles, with rather un-
necessary frankness. my father will be
down in a moment. He was unusually
late from town tonight
But naughty and cold,n Paul added
mentally, as be turned away to meet her
father.
Then, at last, Mrs. Winslow and Darrell
came.
"Whe is this man n looked out of Oar
reI's eyes.
And YOU really 90 home tomorrow r.
Vesey said, sitting down beside Mrs. Wins
low
"Yes. There is nothing TO wait for
The opera season Is over, you know
So it was for the gayeties Of the town be
had fingered week after week, she thought,
with a sudden sinking Of the heart. oh,
how blind she had been! HIS careless
laugh came across the room Just then, as If
TO mock her.
You'll not come back before another
season r. She could not hide the pain that
quivered in her voice.
"No," she replied, SIMPLY, al suppose
not.n
The gentlemen joined them.
Vesey was thinking how pleasant she
had hoped il would be, with only Darrell
and his mother here-they four around the
fire in the twilight, Darrell by her-of the
words she had thought he would speak.
There was ring hanging upon his watch
chain. IL fitted her finger. He had tried
il once in jest.
She turned away from him to Paul.
And yet what should she say7 What do
people say to ministers she asked herself
helplessly. And TO young ministers above
all Oh IL he had not come! lfhe would
only gol If they would all go, and leave
her alone with her disappointment.
How she passed that long dinner hour
she never knew. She talked Of trivial
things, as we all do, though beneath the
outward calm our very souls are seething.
When they were back in the drawing
room, and the Others fell into the quiet,
desultOry chat that follows dinner, she
alone could not be still. Her cold hands
refused 20 lie quietly in her lap, as shapely
white hands should. Her feet beat an i'm
patient waltz under hergown. She glanced
at Darrell. He had thrown himself back
in an easy chair, his hands under his head.
There was no feverish glitter in his eye.
He yawned furtiyely. She pushed her
chair back. ''How stupid we are ! It's
the fire, think. 1t always dulls every
body but itself. VIII not some one sing
or play 2" And she sat down herself be-
fore the piano.
She struck a quick. sharp chord. 81
could dance to-nightp p She had forgotten
the young minister and his probable preju-
dices. He caught glimpse. Just then, Of
the flushed, intense face. But in an instant
with tho minor chord that followed, it
changed. Tears rushed into her eyes.
Her back was to the others. Only Paul
saw the sudden saddeniDg of the face, the
fall Of the wet eye-lids.
"Such wonderful spiritsl" exclaimed
Mrs. Winslow. $50 light-hearted Vesey
always is w
"Ahl" responded Paul. But he fell into
q revery.
Darrell leaned over her. "What has
come to you p'
"How2 Why7" She did not pause
in her playing.
You're simply glorious now. You
hardly need a crown"
Her hands went wrong. A quick clash
"a discord-then she went on. She was
growing strong; equal to the strife. There
is nothing so deathless as woman's pride.
1t had risen at last. Her hands flashed
over the keys, throwing of sparks Of the
widest, gayest music.
Goodnight and goodbye, il must
be-" he said, OBTAINING her hand when they
separated. "We shall take the early
train"
The flush had died out of her face. She
looked worn and tired. Upon the whole
he was not sorry he had decided to 60.
Goodbye" she said quietly.
You'll come and make us that visit in
the summer, Vesey2"
81 don't know. Perhaps So"
"Of course you will"
"To be sure" added Darrell 81 shall
come for you myself"
They were gone at last. She turned
away.
"But Mr.. Hayes vesey!"
She had forgotten bis existence.
''I'm afraid / am rude" And she put
out her hand. Goodnight; but indeed |
may confess now that have n wretched
headache, and-and-n That was all she
said. The play was over.
The spring and early summer wore away.
One letter came from Darrell. A letter
such as he might have sent to any chance
acquaintance, full of hints of gay doings