The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1872-11-08
STORM BOUND.

DOtND
81 know | am pretty said Clara
Nottingham 10 herself, gazing com.
posedly 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 a girl to
Judge of her own looks F; but Clara tried
to be as impartial as possible on this
special occasion. And what was il she
saw reflected in the glass before which
she Stood critically surveying the crea.
ture whom the world called Clara Whit
brigham.
A tall, supple figure, with sloping
shoulders and daintily tapered waist;
skin as soft as satin, and tinted like an
oleander blossom deep blue eyes, ust
shaped into violet at the iris, and little
fresh mouth, where the teeth shone at
every smile like pearls through Grim.
son shell.
yes" said Clara, nodding her head
so that certain sprals of golden brown
hair which always hung over her head
danced coqUettishly up and down.
am pretty. Then that five hundred
pounds year that Uncle Bruce's will
secured me isn't altogether a disagree
able pill for some Of my lovers to swal-
low. | don't think | was made for an
heiress. ike 10 make and mend, 10
patch and c0ntriye, and I've always had
an idea that ! would make a splendid
poor mans wife ! mean, of course,
spendid wife for poor man."
She took from her belt withered red
rosa bunch # ,,iola+- os eb
and arched her pretty eyebrows over
them in q puzzled fashion.
Harvey Gillette gave me the rose"
she soliloquized. He's very handsome,
is Harvey. and | always did have a weak
ness for handsome people, and he's a
rising young man in his profession,
people say. like talented people, too
I'll keep the rose Just a little while"
And she laid il away in a certain satin.
lined box where she was wont to treasure
souveniers Of these her girlish days.
And Frank Hood S vioets-poor
Frand Hood Hes so silent and so
awkward and yet there is something
about him that won't let one despi.e
him. lie certainly is not handsome,
though ne mas fine eyes, and a 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 the jeweled hair.
pins out OF her shining tresses, and laid
aside the white taratan dress and
wreaths Of blue blossoms, and went com.
posedly to bed.
For why should she lie awake and
lose the fresh roses Of her complexion,
and dim the spark of those glorious
violet eyes, thinking about the respec.
tive claims OF the various lovers who
lowered, mOthlike, about the torchlight
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 a good time first. Sensib Clara
So, in the very middle of the season,
when balls, parties, operas, masquerades,
and dOeuNcrS SGntahtcS were at their
height, and when Old Aunt Dalmayne
wrote a piteous letter up to her brother
in town, setting forth that "she had
the rheumatiz dreadful bad, and there
want any help to be had, and she was
that lonesome that she couldn't stand it
no longer, and wouldnt one o. her three
nieces come down and stay with her
for a short time? Clara astonished the
family circle by volunteering to 90.
My dear" said Mrs. Nottingham,
you don't know what you are under.
taking. 1t is common farmhouse"
And Alantha Ann is full of whims."
said Papa Wintringham, rubbing his
nose; But, | suppose she is poor and
loneley."
We'll, but" said Clara, Miriam is
Busy with her music lessons and her
German class, and Laura belongs to
those soclables ! seem 10 be the only
one disengaqed. Besides I'm getting
tired of balls and parties and twelve
o'clock suppers. ! should like to try
the other extreme Just for fun"
4ou'I ind II anything but fun"
said Mrs. Nottingham, putting her
gold-stOpped casolette to her aristocratic
nose.
Well, at any rate, / mean to try
said Clara, valiantly. $50, papa, YOU
may write to Aunt Dalmayne that / am
coming"
The scene looked indescribably beau.
lllIl 10 OldId lntIlHBnanl, lnal frosty
December night, as the jolting old
chaise, with sleepy olu horse trotting
in front, turned into the valley road,
and she could see the ancient farm
house, steep rooted, and brown with a
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 ruddy beam OF
light glowed from the tiny window
under the caves, casting, as it might be
sjayelin of brightness athwart the road
in front of the door.
:" / think she's expectin' of you said
the rough charioteer who had been sent
TO the station TO meet Mrs. Dalmayne's
neice but I'm afeared you'll find it
very lonesome"