Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1872-03-14
gu 0rigiual grin Sturg.
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
THEFATE OF MILDRED WEIR.
BY MRS. CLARA DARGAN MCLEAN.
CHAPTER [.
"a violet by messy stone,
Halfhidden from the eye"


WORDSWORTH.
s'No doubt it is better"
''rhen she will go-you will send herr?
eyes"
The monosyllable fell with clear, liquid
distinctness but there was an indescrlbable
pathos in the silence which followed.
The two ladies sat working side by side.
The elder, of great dignity and majestic pro-
portions, was putting together the hexagons
of silk and velvet coverlet; the younger
scarcely so by decade of years, yet so worn
as to appear the senior-held in her hands
mesh of snowy wool, which was slowly fash
ioning itself into Aeecy scarf Totally un-
like in form or feature there was, neverthe-
less, that shadowy, intangible resemblance
which is known by the general term family
likeness Some tones in the rich, full voice
of the elder-some echo in the cadence-some
Heeting expression of the broad brow, or mo-
bile lips-these impressed even strangers with
the sisterhood of the two women, to whom
that bond was only faint type Of their pure
and unalienable friendship. As they sat thus,
the evening sunshine falling in level lines
across the apartment, one might have watched
the serene and lovely faces, and wondered
what cloud could ever overshadow them. But
God alone knew!
The silence was broken by wild young
voice pealing up to the sky like the note of a
silver bugle. 1t rang upon the evening air
across the bayou till hundred echoes seemed
to repeat the words:
"The lady of my love may not name,
dare not hope my love will be requited;
But will fight for liberty and fame,
Beneath the banner where my love was plghted"
As lit came nearer, the mother dropped her
work and leaned back in her chair. That
wonderful voice! Was it for good or for
evil? That acutely nervous organization
which it betrayed-was it heritage OF grief
or glory? Living life Of strict seclusion,
these three lonely women-the mother, the
maiden sister, and the only child-there had
been developeda vein of romance cultivated
and encouraged by solitude, which, mingled
with the heroic character Of her idolized child,
the mother felt was pregnant with sorrow.
Before the house, the black bayou united
with the blue waters of the Gulf, and it was
from this direction that the ringing voice now
sounded. Mrs. Weir arose and stepped
through the French window upon the terrace
in front. Though late in the season, this was
partially filled by long rows of orange trees
in wheeled tubs, while japonicas and gerani-
ums grew in luxuriance on each side. Near
the window was an immense rhododendron,
and the soft autumn wind was now rustling
its shining leaves, and tossing the long sprays
to and fro.
A light, willowy figure was bounding up
the path which bordered the grounds, and ap-
preached with swift airy grace like swan
floating upon the waters. The blue folds of
her dress futtered in the breeze, and her
loosened hair fell in heavy ringlets upon her
neck. A pair of dark hazel eyes, full of en-
thusiastic, almost passionate light; clear-cut,
spirituelle features, and mouth capable Of
expressing the most intense emotion-these
constituted, in detail, the outward charms OF
Mildred Weir. But no words can give a def
mite idea of her personal magnetism-that at
mosphere of fascination which seems to sur
round some physiques as cloud of radiance.
Is it the result of a peculiar physical organi-
cation, or rather the subtle influence of great
mental power?
AS she caught sight of her mother, Mildred
ceased singing.
us it not glorious EVENING"" she exclainl-
ed. "I've been down upon the beach, and the
winds and waves called to me like battle
cry of victory"
Coming nearer she threw her arms around
her mother'sneck, as they both sat down upon
the steps Of the terrace
"And you answered the call as STAN
dard-watch," the mother said fondly, return
ing the caress.
eyes; Lindpainter's song always recurs to
me when heara storm coming. Do you see
that cloud there? The wind is from the
southwest, and we shall have gale though
now it looks so clear. All me, such lovely
day to end in gloom. But, mamma, turn
ing quickly, zone must not murmur when
clouds come, after the live-long day has been
bright. I never intend to grieve over lost
sunshine, and know storms must come to me
some day, for God has given me a long, bright
life"
eyes, you have had happy life thus far,
nv Mildred, but change may come even to
you. Yet you have this charm against every
evil-your mothers love-"
She clasped the slender fingers in her own
and smoothed back the dishevelled hair from
her daughters brow. Mildred's sensitive lip
trembled. Every breath of feeling betrayed
itself in her face, as the faintest ripple Of air
awakes the slumbering chords of an Eolian
harp. Her mother continued:
"I've been speaking with your aunt on the
subject of your going to the city for the win.
ter, and we both conclude it is best that you
should do So"
An eager light flashed over her face, and
Mildred cried rapturousl y
"Will you, indeed, consent? Oh! mamma,
it is more than I hoped. To hear music
that is too much!
She turned her dilating eyes toward the
west where the sun was just sinking behind
"a looming bastion fringed with fire, and the
10y of her heart was unmistakable.
"Do not expect that even the happiness of
music will be unalloyed, my child" her moth
er said sadly. Nothing on this earth can
niue nerfect satisfa ctinn hut the consciousness