Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1871-04-05

there-nothing more. One little note Vessv
wrote his mother, to say she could not make
the promised visit. Darrel had said nothing
IN his letter of coming for her. "And tell
Darrell AT the close Of her note" that
l am saving any amount Of gossip against
! writing him some day." But the some
DAY never came. Absence, like strong
light brings out hidden defects, and Vesey
knew now that he was a man selfish and
VAIN, who had played with her heart. He
had held in his hand, weighed and measured
It and her and had cast both aside as worth
less She thought Of it with burning checks.
Among the mountains in the summer. she
gathered strength and life again for both had
seemed to fail. Perhaps it was the heat
The summer had opened like the tropics.
with another winter came the Winslows. If
she bad dreaded il, if she had feared for her
self, would it have been stranger But the
spell was broken. Looking back, she won.
dered
Outwardly the old intimacy was resumed.
Darrell came and went as he had come and
gone the year before. But to Yeasey it was
only shell--a hollow, heartless thing that
never had been friendship, and could never
low be love. Paul, plodding along day after
day in the round Of his duties, saw-as though
a great way olf-Nesey and Darrel hyinr tip
and down the icy streets to the tinkle Of silver
bells.
One night, Vesey, glowing in crimson. with
Whlte chrysanthemums in her hair, passed
through the hall. The outer door was opeu
vide. Paul stood outside. The wind, raw
and wet with the breath Of the sea- caught at
her hair-at the silken ruffles Of her dress.
" Oh, is it you2 But you are coming in 2'
She little knew how her words tempted him
how the vision tempted him, as she paused
with casped hands under the gaslight. and
with the warm, bright room beyond.
" cannot, | am waiting for your father.
There is family at the lower end Of the
town starry"
The words choked him. Thank you, not
tonight be said. He had longed to meet
her again, like this--alone and face to face.
But her light manner, her dainty dress, an
gered him tonight. lie had come from such
different scene. Only woman Of the
world, after all, he thought. And yet so
sweet, so bitterly sweet, he owned, when he
had turned away and plunged into the cold
and darkness. Darrell was waiting for her
in the drawng-room.
g. You're like poem tonight, in all that
ruby-red-like an Eastern song"
THANK you" Vesey said dreamiy.
-" couldn't imagine you in gray" he went
on, half to himself, "or in anything somber,
or worn, or poor" He had begun to study
the girl in earnest now. "Yes YOU are made
for the rarest and best, Vesey to shine in
satin and diamonds"
Satin and diamonds Vesey remembered
the man she had.left at the door. He was
out in the winter night among the hungry and
naked now, she knew. She had caught his
hali-uttered sentence. And she was made for
satin and diamonds
" Is that all p she asked wistfully.
"All2 Is not that enough 1t would
satisfy most women"
But tonight it did not satisfy her
Down at the beginning of the lorg street
was a black, low.browed house, like many
others here, with shop in the lower story,
or, more properly two, since one window
was occupied by matchmaker, and the other
displayed pins needles, spoos of cotton, and
such small wares. Above were two or ,brae
rooms with slantiDg sides, where a deformed
girl-a pitiiul object to look at-lived with
her mother, earning enough by sewing to put
bread into their mouths and scanty covering
upon their backs-no more. Yesev emnlove3
them; from pity mostly. since her work oonId
have been better done elsewhere. She stenncd
out of the sleigh here at dusk one NIGHT and
ran up the stairs, a roll of work in her hand
She had to wait moment SO she sat and
talked with the girl, who was young like her.
self, and yet not like herself at all. 1t made
her thankful for her strong young life, which
she had never named among her blessings,
and 1t shot geam of pleasure through the
girls dark days
1t was poor room, with paper torn and
soiled, and Of many patterns. upon the walls;
with the bare boards of the floor yawninc.
rising and falling uneasilv; with the dim lio6t
struggling through uncurtaned windows that
peered from under the caves like eyes from
oyerhanging brows. In one of those windows,
a forlorn canary in a broken cage-a brown
little bird with rufled, unkempt feathers
ehirruped feebly, like a moan. A low voice
in continuous murmur fell upon Vesey's
ear. 1t seemed to come from the next room.
What is that 2"
"That 'm2" The girls pale face grew
bright. Its the minister, MIR. Hayes. He
comes and prays with mother, now she's sick"
The light died down again.
The little room became all at once like a
church, solemn and still, as the low voice
rolled on and on, like river far away. The
girl laid down her work. Even the bird for.
got its moan.
The voice ceased. She heard his step up.
ON the stairs II was but n socond bo roula
not have reached the street when shr;eL
came from the room be had Ieft The o;rl
sat like one paralyzed Vesey threw omen
the door. A swift line of light ran ali adown
the bed. 1t burst into a aame. in tho midst
of which the sick woman STRUGGLED. The
overturned candle at her head told the story.
1t was an instinct-there was no time for
thought-which made Vesey drag the square
of carpet from the floor and press il down nm.
on the flames. They shot ont into her face