Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1872-01-08

calm our very souls are seething. |
She dared not speak Of others, lest she |
break this crust. Paul judged her. She |
has found her lowest depth. he said, when |
she CHANGED to name a ribbon. 6 Her
spirits rose; buoyed by her light words
and laugh perhaps. When they were
back in the drawing room, and the others
fell into the quiet, desultory chat that fol-
lows dinner, she alone could not be
still. Her cold hands refused to lie quiet
in her lap, as shapely hands should. Her
feet beat an impatient waltz under her
gown. She glanced at Darrel. He had
thrown himself back in an easy-chair,
his hands under his head. There was
no feverish glitter in his eyes. He look
ed simply bored. He yawned furtively.
She pushed her chair back. "How
stupid we are. It's the fire, l think. 1t
always dulls everybody but itself Will
not some one sing or play % And she
sat down herself before the piano.
She struck quick, sharp chord. Il
could dance tonight !'' She had forgot
ten the young minister and his probable
prejudices. He caught glimpse, just
then, of the flushed, intense face. But
in an instant, with the minor chord that
followed, it changed, Tears rushed into
her eyes. '1fI hadn't lost my slippers, y
she breathed to herself Her back was
to the others. Only Paul saw the sud-
den saddening of the face, the fall of the
wet eyelids
''Such wonderful spirits !'' exclaimed
Mrs. Winslow. $50 light hearted Vesey
always is p
"Ah. p responded Paul But he fell
into revery.
Darrell leaned over her. "What has
come to you?''
"How? Why?" She did not pause
in her playing.
You're simply glorious now. You
hardly need crown
Her hands went wrong. A quick
clash-discord--then she went on. She
was growing strong; equal to the strife.
There is nothing so deathless as a wo-
mans pride. It had risen at last Her
hands flashed over the keys, throwing off
sparks of the widest, gayest music.
"Not thatl'' Darrell whispered. "Play
something soft and low. Do you forget
it is our last EVENING" You're not sorry
after all, then!'' for her face never
changed. She laughed low quiet rip
pie in her throat
"Sorry g? Oyes;" lingering over the
last words. And still her hands toyed
with the keys. ''But one can't cry at a
bidding, you know; l dare say l may
| tomorrow, And again the low laugh
welled up in her throat. She looked up
fearlessly. 1t had been all husks, she
knew now. But at least he should not
triumph in her shame She had worn
her heart upon her sleeve; but, though
it bled, he should not know it. She
might, indeed, cry tomorrow, but not
now.
AS for the man, he experienced new
sensation-of doubt, mingled with amaze
ment He had read her, so he thought
like an open book. He even fancied he
had cut the leaves. Poor little mouse p
he said to himself, Il really must &C
away. She is really growing fond of me. .
He almost wished now he had decided to
stay. 1t seemed there was sequel to
the book. He was tempted to fall in love
with her upon the spot. '1f she is act
ing, she's by far more clever than
thought; and if she is really Indifferent
I've been conceited fool
Goodnight! and good-by, it mus
be" he said, OBTAINING her hand wher
they separated. 1--WE shall take thu
early train"
The flush had died out of her face
She looked worn and tired. Upon tn,
whole, he was not sorry he had decided
to go.
''Good-by," she said quietly.
you'll come and make us that visi
in the summer Vesey? O. my glove
and my veil ! thank you," began Mrs
Winslow, fussily,
Il don't know. Perhaps so.
''Of course you will
"To be sure, added Darrel, Il shall
come for you myself
They were gone at last. She turne,
away.
But Mr.. Hayes! Vesey! !"
She had forgotten his existence.
; .1'm afraid I am rude" And she pu
out her hand. Goodnight; but, indeed
| may confess now that | have a wretch
ed headache, and-and- That was al
she said. The play was over.
III.