Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1871-01-04
CAST OFF.

viii I forgive you? How dare you ask
il, Ida RJssitur? Never, so help INC Hea
ven"
There was fierce glare in the black eyes
with which Winfield trey steadily regsrded
the handsome woman standing pale and with
compressed lips before him
She had been for solitary walk on the
ses shore, little dreaming she should meet
the nan who III her heart of hearts, wa.
the only en=hrined idol.
She had seen him coming, when his eyes,
keen and bright though they we're, had no;
Sc, dizcsrnrd her graceful figure vending
AMONG The crags and cliffs OF the rocky wild
Leach and, with cry of intensest delight
upon her lips, she haatened TO meet him.
She was L tauItlessly beautiful woman,
s.Is naughty he!ress, Ida Rossitur, whose
dark, oriental eyes had slain scores OF vic
TINS whose .us,rOu3 masses of ebon black
hair had driven scores of lovers half crazy.
She knew her power, and how to use it :;
and before she had seen twenty-five sum
mers drop their load of sweet scents, she had
acquired the weli-earued reputation of a
coGuette.
But every soul has its mate; and Ida
Rossittr had met the muster Of her destiny;
she loved. Yet, 80 strange Is the incons;s-
tency Of woman, that, though caught and
wooed by Winfield Gray, him whom she so
sdored, her habit of coque,ry would not
permit her 10 show him preference.
Not that she intended losing him and
or the moonlight nigh: when he told her
Lis love ia se5F:ls SO passionful that heart
au.o Il ach,d with the joy, when he pleaded
The sweet ruuor that was going the rounds,
oi their engag cement, she gracefully warded
HIN Of, fa.iy intending to confess all ON tho
uyrrow.
Aias, Tor what we will do 30 morrow -
Alsuj are the hopes that are crushed for
taeir waiting io7 the morrow; the resoiu
Mons buried that ty-u!orrow' va. to see
ta.lAed!
And Ida Rossitur, when the morning
dawned, learned that Winfield Grey had Ief;
tie shore t4at very mJ.nIHg while shc was
dreaming OF him.
she vas TOO proud to inquire too proud
10 write and when, hours later, she was
pilytuliy tauuled with staying another VIC
TIN, and that Winfield Grey, she Vas too
Iesc-yetly h2ushsy 20 refute the aspersion,
anu b cold bow, gave cFedence TO the ru
ia0r
A. his, the one precious episode of her
lie, that had been crowded into one biissful
fortnight, two years agone, came rushing
o7er Ter aS she saw Winfield Grey walking
quietly along, all unconscious of her near
proximity to him.
Winfield, oh, Winfield can it be posi-
be: She reached forth b5th her beauti-
ii! arms, a glorious light that he could not
have misunderstood, glowing in her dark
e!es.
lie started, raised his bat, and would
have passed on.
~ are not angry with me, Mr.. Grey ?"
He' tones were pleading, Dut he looked
}''r.3a.-ss Us a statue.
/ have not forgotten our last interview,
n.ss Rgssitur.''
Ills c5l, s;esly tones raised fearful an
s1i>h ~ her heart.
NcEL Ihave been wait ing ever since
u, ,e-. y5u-.o tell you how-I-lo,ed you. "
lie proud woman had spoken at last
l.4 q beautiful blush oyerspread her face as
s-s looked almost wistfully at him.
Ills own cheeks redeemed, but he never
moved his eyes FROM her face
aA grieyei the confession has come
''' ate Miss RoSsitur. ] care nothing for
yya."
She stood ike one petrifed, her eyes
s'o"ihs bright and wild.
Ne; care for rnel-not-ca -for-me?"
'1s repeated the words slowly, distinctly, an
sSiu! gray palor the while stealing across
'aee' her eyes riveted on his handsome
c9un,enance.
p, 90 not, Miss Rossitur; good morning. ="
M ns bowed and walked on.
he mad unly taken dozen steps, when
'-e,e came clutch on his arm that almost
again. ''O' - 3' -1A
''op moment, sm mystified. Imay
7azy tor all know. But must have