Litchfield enquirer., 1871-11-09


 purple considerations even more ghastly than on his snowy pillow. But he had his old smile, his old imperious way, his old. if seldom, tone. Thereupon, we set about devising expedients of interest or amuse- ment. took to drawing and sat beside him for instruction, he putting up finger to guide my pencil in it's delicate play among flowers and stems; and Arria press ed Trefefheness into her service. and took to masquerading 14 s,46
 At this time the Senor Guadalaiara grew so urgent that he was finally promised ad- mittance Maurice shrugged his shoul- ders It banishes our fairy world, 2 said he. Children, move softly; am ill at thought of it. The next day as they swept about him with their gorgeous old costumes, their robes stiff with gold and their webs of spider lace, personating all the various dramas In the supposed knights and danes of the Trefetheness descent, Guadalajara entered.
 Tt IS altogether strange attendance that you have, said the surprised Don.
 "I am like sick Macbeth, with the witches of the Heath of Torres fiourishing before him, said Maurice, feebly.
 You are transported century, no es 0Os Heete. DUO " ID AipIopcI aiu iApfu- dent"
 "And all other imps, !" said Maurice, with gay glance for Arria.
 After the momentary stiffness that en- sued the Don bent begging few words, and we retired to the other end of the room, at Matrices gesture. A brief sentence or two passed, when Maurice rose on one hand. haggard and paler than ever, with his features stern and set at marble,-~ and beckoned Aria. x
 '"The Senor Guadalaiara makes you an offer of his hand, said he, abruptly, trans fixing her with his glittering eye
 She waited moment, till her breath and his own came evenly again, and then, with Trefetheness hauteur, not rnpleas- ing to the stately lover, said: '1 regret that must have the pain of declining"
 "Eh ?" said Guadalajara. half-springing forward from his seat, as if it were impos- sible that he had heard aright "A Quad alajara !? Decline alliance with Guada- lajara"
 Arria bowed again She looked so love- ly in her ancient dress, with it's shadows of emerald green and its adornment of sil yer, and this refusal was maddening.
 "And to what does the Senorita object 1? Who is she that she should despise the race of heroes !? What is there in the name Gaudalajara that she refuses to. wear it?" -
 "Too many open vowels,'' whispered Trefetheness to me.
 Ut is not to the name, Sir, that I ob- jecr, sHid Aria, gently.
 And what then ?" he hotly demanded.
 Yourself, Senor. g sl
 ''Me? Me Be it! You a-Trefethe- ness Do you think my blood is water to brook such insult? Your uncle, your cous- in, are responsible P b.
 My uncle has nothing to do with it. Senor, said Arria, her own temper rising. s'Your manner does not invite affection. And know nothing about your blood P
 eThen will teach you P he cried. "It is Castilian! It is the blue blood of Spain p and, tearing away his sleeve, he npped up the swarthy skin beneath with the point of his penknife. Arria grew faint, Maurice laughed, Trefetheness sprang forward and bound up the little wound before the Gu ban could say yea or nay. M es.a ss8s
 s'None but the brave deserve the fair 7" exclaimed Maurice. 'sBrayol r
 Gaudalajara glared about him for a mo- ment and then threw the penknife into the fire. Gazing after it, he looked mp pfinally into Arria's face.
 'Senorita, " said he, then, endeavoring to calm his perturbation and regain his knowledge of the tongue that ahger scat tered, lyon are not used to our hot spirit, l see. I have made fool of myself. I beg her to reconsider my proposal, and me to bid hope"
 ' ''Senor, I can not bid you hope"
 "But shall do 50. 1" @ E.
 'sWhy r escaped Maurice. a4cs
 "P0rQxe, naS dena0ssio," said the other, turning upon him as if glad of any shad- ow of an attackable adversary; 'esta don- ce!tsta es, 2 ser0 siensfse, fo h.nabre dc aais 0j0s - zen ssesssss l.ss
 Hope is the lovers staff walk hence with that ? and walk Spanish'' muttered Maurice, sinking back exhausted. After thls he did not speak again, but closed hls eyes and with so many demands for water, and with the application of his us- nal medicines. and the beating up and ar- rangement of his cushions, and with now 8 gentle flaming and now redoubled wrap ing, chafing of hand and pressing of tenn pie, and one or two faint glances from the dark hollow eye, g sigh, groan, and fit of coughing-with all that the Senor Guadalajara was content and eager to go
 
 from lazar-house, and felt the horrid phantom of Death sitting on his shoulders and clutching at his throat, he reported to the constituency who had deputised him that poor Maurice Trefetheness lay at the very point of expiration.
 No sooner had the door closed upon him than Maurice, springing up, threw of blan-. ket and coverIeE, suffered the cushions to collapse, and tore of the swathing towels from his head.
 There r said he. The worthy hidal- go is as thoroughly frightened as if he had been called upon to surrender his own breath. He is one of those men who can not endure to approach the vast and bound less contiguity of shade. But I feel the better for the play"
 Do you really feel better, uncle ?'' I asked in glee.
 sTut, tutl Grace me no grace. nor un- cle me no uncle Don't you see that I'm better, little mistress? am well P
 Day followed day now, and although Maurice was not, as he had said, well, his improvement was preceptible to us as it had been conci0us to him. Gaudalaiara came again in about week, and then fol lowed up that occasion daily with offer ings ct Arria's shrine and she, with her little natural coquetry, could not help making herself up in as bewitching style as possible, now allowing him to hope, now obiging him to despair, and pleasing her. self with his devotion since he was not . very repugnant person -thoughtless of all the pain shes inflicted and the little pleasure she afforded. Maurice, forget ting, I fancy, how unsophisticated it was that she had come into the world from her books and dolls, never thought of correct ing her, yet watched her anxiousIy. and seemed to take note not only of every breath she drew but of every thought mir rored in the tender depth of her eyes. Yet at times, and not infrequently, g look of trouble, of confusion, and fear, stole into those eyes and brooded there, as if itwere the spiritual miasma rising from some un- covered and dreadful spot of her soul 1; and no sooner did it assert. itself than Maurice withdrew book or pencil or needle from her hand, and either led her into the garden, now blazing in all the glory of it's