Wilmington daily commercial., 1872-09-19

Of the elderly female bending over Tia tomb,
Is II pretty she reasoned to herself, Anna
Jones said in the city they had beautiful pic
tures-looked like real sky and clouds and
water. mean to put brown pitcher of
ferns on the mantelpiece, an that will cover
II ups an I'll putup some white for curtains,
an loop 'em up with red braid an put some
white on the table an white quilt on the
bed, an ii won't look so-what did Jane saw
they said 2-oh, countrified."
what made you so long, Rachel p asked
her mother. 81 could a tldied up that little
hole in less than no time. You amt been a
readin', have your" Did you put piece O.
soap on the tin basin there an where on
earth be you going with them air big boots
on?
"0nly just to get a few of them ferns
down IN the hollow, mother"
''Ferns What do you spose he wants
bis room cluttered with weeds for-he that
has whole 0Jserodt0ries of elegant flowers at
home Z"
"Why, mother, think they're beautiful.
Don't you really s'pose city folks likes EN- ?"
"Oh, don't know. child. They don't lot
much on country fXins anyway guess. Go
get what you like. They do take notions
sometimes"
1t was near the close of long summers
day. The sun had just set, and the purpling
sky was fleckcd here and there with soft rosy
clouds the birds were singing good night,
and the little waterfall in the glen was Ginning
in with a song of its own-when Rachel
came from behind the barn with milk-pail in
each hand Her checks were flushed with
exercise, and her eyes full of hope and Joy
As she came, her clear, sweet voice trilled its
merry notes far above the bird-songs But
half way to the house, she sat down her
pals, and stopped to look at the birds in the
trees, and the rosy light just touching the
spire-tops of the distant village; and as she
looked her merry song ceased, and a half
sigh escaped her lips. She had not noticed
step behind her, and started at the sound of a
strangers voice.
lis this Mr.. Deans house ?"
The newcomer was u young man of per-
haps thirty, tall and well-proportioned. His
eyes were dark-grey; his hair was dark and
slightly curling his mouth a little too full
for beauty, but well-shaped and expressive.
So much a cool lOoker-on might see, but re-
mark nothing especially striking in form or
feature certainly nothing to make little Ra-
chel blush and stammer so, as if god had
come down to her In the person of a man,
but there was an excuse for her-she had
only known the rustic style of dress and
manner as expressed in such as ''Venus."
house, ''bring the milk in"
''Shan't help you ?" asks the stranger,
with the same gallantry which he would have
used at a New York soiree had the article in
question been a scarf and yet, as he spoke,
he could hardly help smiling at his own offer
''Oh no, thank you sir, she said decidedly;
''if you would first go round to the front
door, will take in my pals and come round
and open it, will speak to my mother"
And as she went into the house his eyes
followed the fairy little form, and he half
sighed to think he could not meet her on
equal ground-half sighed to think that she
was not the daughter of New York prince,
and the milk-pail had not been a fancy
basket.
And this was the summer-boarder. His
name was Arthur Van Enden. His fathers
| family dated back to the old Knickerbockers
of New YOrk-one of those Vans which
seem to be the open-sesame TO her closely
shut heart.
A house in Washington, another in Fifth
| avenue, third a country villa on the Hud-
son. But Arthur was tired of this He
wanted to go off and weather alone some
where free from restraint, free from conven-
tionalites Not that he cared the less for
them-not that he would surrender one iota
of that social ceremony which was his life
and his death at the same time-but little
natural longing for temporary rest and va
rlety filled his heart, and in this quiet nook
among the hills he felt sure he should find it.
He had small party of friends in the viii
age near by. Many were the excursions
they had planned, the horseback rides, the
walks, the fishing, the hunting-all this in
one month
There were Hayden, and Ruyton, and Sey-
mour-all fellows of his set, There was
Belle Ruyter, with her father and mother
and her cousin, Miss Douglass the heiress.
1t was all planned Out-the merriest, gayest
season ever spent.
no BE CONTINUED.