The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1872-01-11


days?"
"Before the omnibus came from the
station, you thought it quite possible"
reply I, dryly.
Silence.
"Come, now, did not your"
"Well, yes" Cooking rather sheep
ish).
1T is on account of Mr.. lie Mesuyier
that you are goiog to forego your DIN
ner?"
"Well, yes" (much more shsepisb).
"Lenore Lenore! what has he
doue?" cry I, kneeliug down beside
her, in frenzy of curiosity "tell me-"
"He has done nothlng," turaiug her
face away, and pluckiug at the pillow
with her fingers.
"What has he said P'
"He has said nothing"
"Did he tell you that yoa ~ers NJ
good form, according to his pet e1pres-
sion p Qaughing).
NO."
"Did he make love to Js.l
"No ! NO! NOv'
I can only see her ear, which has
grown suddenly scarlet.
"Jemima," says Lcno,e, sittiV q
on the floor facing me, and loskinf
very serious, "it live to be a huA-
dred and fifty, I will neUer tell you"
'I shall have to ask hin, then; Ia
will tell me quickly enough" answer |,
nettled, and rising to my feet again.
"Perhaps; very likely" rejoins shs,
curtly.
"But you will come down to dlnae.,
like good child" say I, coaxingly, d
I wrestle with white mnslin Garibal-
di, which has shrunk in the Washing,
| and is to small to contain my charms"
II will not"
"But you have had no luncheon :"
"No."
"Nor afternoon tea ?'
"No."
"You would probably be at a dn-
| taucc of half mile from him." says I,
encouraging; "thc table is as long as
from here to England ; I saw it."
'"Jemima," replies Lenore, gravely,
looking at me with her large, solomn
eyes, "I might sit exactly opposite to
him, and, that would kill me on tho
spot.,'
shruk my shoulders.
"He is ugly enough, certain" say,
severely; "but he is hardly such a
Medusa's head that it is death to look
at him.
But Len0re is obdurate.
II had rather die than go dowa,"
she says, with the tragic exaggeration
Of youth, shaking her head, and all tho
shining taugles Of hair that ripple
about her throat.
The bell rings, tinglng and jangling
through the open doors and narrow
passages. I am obliged to go down
alone, in my shrunk muslin Garibaldi
and shabby old blsck-silk skirt, into
crowd Of bearded English and shorn
French who are gathered to raven like
wolves in the sallg u manager. I leave
Lenore lying prone on the parqaet,
hungry and guawiog, and Staying an
occasional beetle with her slipper. At
dinuer sit between the landlord and
! close-shsved little Breton, with vast
| and greasy appetite.
| In silence and loneliness I Atln
like my neighbors. Mr.. Ls Mesari1s
ful6ls my prophecy he is half a Nil
of. Now and again I have a vision II
bis leonpe beard between the thirteen
or fourteen intervening guests, and d
a handsome blond head beyond hin.
! On remounting to our garret I ind
that Len orc has resumed her clothea
aud is setting on the window-sill, pelk
ing a stray dog in the court yard win
cherry.stones. His eyes turned With
a sort Of anxiety to turn as I enter.
"Well, well," says I, spitefullJ,
"there was an excellent dinner; havt
brought you a menu to show yo9
what you have lost:
sPoTAaI.-vermicelli,
sPoIssosN.-soles, fines, herbes.
Champigons-"
"Pooh r interrupts my sister, lmp<
tiently, "What do l care7 Well
did you-did you see him ?"
} II caus sht glimpse now and thea
Of his chesnut curles," reply I, banter
ingly "only glimpse though, as hs
} was at least killometre off,
"Did he see you? 2"
"Probably not the dear fellow did
not seem to have eyes for any thing
but his dinner"
"He did not miss me, then ~ with
an accent Of chagrin.
eff be did, he disguised it admire
, bly," IT,. 49,.
"I might have gone down, after 81"
"Perfectly." " II.
She picks up the menu. "Jambon
Madere'-how good it soundsl Why
did you not ask it to walk upstairs (
ContinUo1 On TovrtR 0@