The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1871-08-11
MisGeIlaneons Selections.
DELIVERED FROM EVIL.

The twilight of mid July was
full of tender, opal brightness; the
scent of new mown hay, coming
down from afar off breezy slopes,
foated in the air, and just beyond
the elms in the hollow, the full
moon rising up-a great globe of
pearl, and from her low seat beneath
the over-hanging honey-suckles,
Bertha Wyman saw and felt this
summer beauty with the faint, bliss
full languor Of a tropic dream.
''Berthap
Paul Fordham crossed the broad
ribbon of moonlight that futtered
over the piazza and come to sit down
at his fancee's feet.
"You are like a picture tonight,
Bertha, did you know itl''
Gam II"
Miss Wyman was accustomed to
adulation and took it very cody,
with only royal smile flung down
to her admlrer.
She was like a picture-fair and
gracious, with blue eyes, and great
coils of golden hair bound round
her head, while, even in the uneer-
tain twilight, you could see that the
color on her cheeks was softer and
more tenderly tinted then the bios
SONS of the great cieander at hef
side.
'Hush-who is thatp' she said,
with a little start, as a light step
sounded on the matted hall beyond.
"Only your aunt's companion,
Mrs. Raymond. BY the way, Ber-
tha, what an interesting little thing
she is-such child widow, with
those black eyes and the heavy
lashes that seem actually to weigh
down her eyelids? She makes me
think of one of those exquisite little
South American birds, all grace and
sparkle
81 never could account for the
taste of young men" said Bertha,
half contemptuously.
''No, but she is a beauty, by JoYe.
can tell you what, my fair Saxon
Empress, if I had not lost my heart
irrevocably to you, long before ]
ever saw Mrs. Raymond, there's nc
telling what might have happened
He spoke jestingly, but Berths
drew away the hand he had taken
rather coolly.
at is not yet too late, Paul, if you
really admire Zaidee Raymond SC
enthusiastically"
"Berthar'
Miss Wyman laughed a strange
unnatural sort of a laugh. Up tC
this moment her lips had nevel
tasted the bitter cup of jealousy
lnow it seemed as if the draught wal
lmaddening. How dared Paul Ford
ham, her betrothed lover, speak il
tones of commendation to any wo
man save herself.
Bertha was one Of those unfortu
nate creatures who have what i
termed ga high temper" and all he
life it had been unbridled. She haC
never learned the lesson of self-con
ltrol, and it was too late to begil
lnow.
Miss Wyman went up to her owl
apartments earlier than usual tina
Ievening, not because she was partic
ularly weary, but because she want
ed to punish Paul Fordham, VIII,
was fond of moonlight and senti
ment, and delicious July evenings
for his unwarrantable notice of he
aunt's dark eyed companion.
AS she sat at the window brush
ling out the wayy, feathery gold q
her magnificent hair, the sound q
voices on the piazza below arreste
her attention. She listened me
ment holding the golden masse
away from her head, with her seal
let lips half apart. 1t was PAT
Fordham and Zaidee Raymond.
81 thought SC" she murmured III
der her breath. 'sIt would he n
bad speculation for the poverty
stricken widow to vile Paul ForC
ham and his wealth to her nets.
'knew she was artful, despite her il
nocent, childish ways, but if sh
dares to come in collision with m
, she shall be crushed-crushed, as
would strike noiSome insect to th
lground."
She sat there silent and motion
less for well nigh half an hour, the
there came a soft tap at her chan
Der door.
"Come in," said Bertha.
! And Mrs. Raymond entered.
81 beg your pardon for disturbin
you, Miss Wyman, but were yo
aware that you had left your brac,
let on the Piazza foor9 Here it is,