Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1872-11-07
STORM BOUND.


bingham to herself, gazing composedly
into her mirror, "but do not think am
sufficiently beautiful to send all the young
men of my acquaintance into ecstacies
over me"
1t is not always very easy for girl to
Judge of her own looks; but Clara tried
to be as impartial as possible on this
special occasion. And what was it she
saw reflected in the glass before which
she stood, critically surveying the crea
ture whom the world called Clara Whit
bingham?
4 tall, supple figure, with sloping
shoulders and a daintily tapered waist
a skin as soft as satin, and tinted like an
oleander blossom; deep blue eyes, just
shaded into violet at the iris; and little,
fresh mouth, where the teeth shone at
every smile like pearls through crimson
shell.
"Yes,n said Clara, nodding her head so
that certain spirals Of golden brown hair
which always hung over her head danced
coQuettishly up and down, II am pretty.
Then that five hundred pounds a year
that Uncle Bruce's will secured me isn't
altogether disagreeable pill for some of
my lovers to swallow. | don't think |
was made for an heiress like to make
and mend, to patch and cOntrive, and I've
always mad an idea that would make a
splendid poor mans wife | mean, of
course, a splendid wife for poor man. :"
She took from her belt withered red
rose and a bunch of violets as she spoke,
and arched her pretty eyebrows over
them in puzzled fashion.
Harvey Gillette gave me the rose" she
soliloQuized, He's very handsome, is
Harvey, and always did have weak
ness for handsome people; and he's a
rising man in his profession, people say.
like talented people, too. I'll keep the
rose just little while" And she laid
it away in certain linen.lined box where
she was wont to treasure souvenirs of
these her girlish days. And Frank
Hoods violets--poor Frank Hood He's
SO silent and so awkward, and yet there
is something about him that won't let one
despise him He certainly is not hand
some, though he has fine eyes, and face
like one of those old marble creations
one sees in the School of Design. Well,
| won't throw away the violets either, not
just yet"
Clara took her jeweled hair-pins cut of
her shining tresses, and laid aside her
white tarlatan dress and wreaths Of blue
blossoms, ard went composedly to bed.
For why should she lie awake and lose
the fresh roses of her complexion, and
dim the sparkle of those glorious violet
eyes, thinking about the respective claims
of the various lovers who lowered, moth
like, about the torchlignt of her charms
There was time to make up her mind
quite time enough. Why, she was not
yet nineteen, and life was so full of bloom
and freshness for her. Clara knew that
the autumn must come sooner or later
but she meant to have good time first.
Sensible Clara!
So, in the very middle Of the season,
when balls, parties, operas, masquerades,
and dGieltHeS S21tt0fafeS were at their height,
and when old Aunt Dalmayne wrote Il
piteous letter up to her brother in town,
setting forth that ''she had the rheumatic
dreadful bad, and there want any help to
be had, and she was that lonesome that
she couldn't stand it 40 longer and
wouldn't one of her three nieces come
down and stay with her for a short time !?
Clara astonislled the family circle by vol
unteering to go.
My dear" said Mrs. Wintringham
you don't know what you are undertake
ing, 1t is common farmhouse"
And Alantha Ann is full of whims, :"
said Papa Wintringham, rubbing his nose.
" But suppose she is poor and lonely. u
"Wen, but" said Clara, " Miriam is
busy with her music lessons and her Ger
man class, and Laura belongs to those
sociables seem to be the only one dis.
engaged Besides I'm getting tirca of
balls and parties and twelve O'Clock sup
pers. | should like to try the other eX.
IRENE just for fun"
YDull find it anything but fun, said
MIS- Wintringham, putting her gold
stolpered casoette to her aristocratic
nos
a eli, 1t any rate, l mean to try"
said Ck,ra, yaliantly. go papa, yoa
may write to Aunt Dalmayne that am
COMING"
The scene looked indescribably beauti,
full to Clara Wintringham, that frosty De-
cember night as the iolting old chaise,
with sleepy old horse trotting in 'front.'
turned into the valley road, and she could
see the ancient farmhouse, steep.roofed
and brown with half century of suns
and rains, with the elm boughs
wrestling overhead in the gale. and the
wooded hills rising upon every side while
one rudy beam of light glowed from the
tiny window under the caves, casting a
glare as If it might be a iavein of bright
ness athwart the road in front Of the door,
II think she's expectin' Of YOU" said
the rough charioteer who had been SEM
to the station to meet Mrs. Dalmayne's
niece; but I'm afeared you'll find it very
lonesOme,H
oh cried Clara geefully, as she
sprang out Of the vehicle, Il think it Is
splendidn
She entered the low-ro ofed kitchen, a
agiow with the roaring fire of logs on the
hearth, and further illuminated by two
tallow candles in bright brass candle
sticks Aunt Dalmayne had evidently
bestirred herself, for the table was spread
with hot biscuits, baked apples, custards
and preserves, and the old lady herself
hohbled forward on her crutch to wei
come her niece
Why, my dear, :" cried Aunt DaImayne
stepping back to take second survey
you're as pretty as picturer'
Am l!' said Clara, coloring and laugh
ing. But, sunty, what a glorious fir
you have got, and what darling old urn
and how nice that tea does smellni