The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1872-1881, 1872-09-27

protected from the night air my love;
perhaps you hal better wear this light
shawl over your shoulders"
II shall most assurcdly do nothing Of
the sort, Mrs. Cpmpfort."
Olivia Crampfort stood on the terrace
in front Of me door, looking like a
naughty young princess. in her white
dress, with pearls glowing softly through
the net work cf her golden hair. She
was hardly iAtcn. with violet gray eyes,
cheeks tinted with the iaintcst bloom,
and a mouth Us supcr5ly curved as that
Of Diana Of Ephe,u-.
Half way down the steps, with ono
light hand resting on the marble rail,
stood Mrs. Crampfort, her young step
mother II would be difficult TO imagine
two styles of beauty more widely differ
cut than those Of Olivia and her fathers
wife. The latter was tall and largely
moulded, with heavy coils Of magnificent
ebon-black hair, brunette skin, and eyes
whose melting, misty darkness had a
purplish-gleam in their liquid depths.
Her dress was Of crimson silk, drapcd
with rich black lace, and the only orna-
ment in her hair was the gold comb that
fastened lie luxuriance. She paused
abruptly, as Olivia spoke the short con-
temptuous, quick sentences, while the
deep scarlet rose to her ordinary pale
check.
"Oliva-my daughter
Il am not your daughter. Mrs. Cramp.
fort, said Olivia, hauglsily, "nor shall |
ALLOW myself to be dictated to by a step
mother. And once for all those little
hypocritical airs of affection, whatever
effects they may produce on my father,
are thrown away on mel
She walked away down the broad path,
her lips curled, and her face coldly scorn-
fdi, while Mrs. Crampfort still stood lean
ing against the marble ballustrades hold
ing her hands TO her heart, as il 0liva's
words had been poisoned arrows that
We're ranking there.
"Will she never learn to love me ?"
thought the young step-mother. Shall
never win the entrance to her heart ?
Oh, if she but knew how truly would
cherish her-and yet,'-The tears gilt
tered in Mrs. Crampforts's lovely dark
eyes as she turned to the house, where
only Oliva's arrangement cast a shadow
on her bright life.
Edward Crampfort was sitting, read
ing by the library window, as his wife
ca ne slowly in. He was a tall, hand
some man, with a few silver threads
sprinkled in his hair, though he had
scarcely reached middle age, and large
blue eyes, where the expression seemed
perpetually to vary, and as he looked up
to the well known sound Of the most
idolatrous tenderness. |
you look grave. Madeline"
do II" She tried to smile, but the
tears came instead. as she sat down be-
side him on the low stool.
Madeline, my dear one, what has hap |
! pened to grieve your
Z "Oh. Edwardl" she sobbed, if | could
but learn the secret of Oliva's love-
The fathers broad forehead darkened
with a stern shadow.
"Has she dared TO be impertinent to
you, Madeline? If she has"
ooh, no, no!' hurriedly interposed
Mrs. Crampfort, with the color rising to
her temples. pray do not draw any
such differences from my careless words.
Only, dearest, love her so dearly, and
cannot win a single tender word or
glance from her. would cherish her SO
devotedy would she but allow me. There
il SO much that is winning and noble
about her that | cannot but feel her es-
arrangement most accutely."
Madeline" said Mr. Crampfort, after
moments grave meditation, 81 think
| shall decide to send Olivia to boarding
school until she can learn on her return
home, to appreciate your qualities as they
deserve. It viii be severe lesson, but
] think she needs it,"
"Not for the world, Edwardl" eagerly
pleaded Mrs. Crampfort. "For my
sake. dearest, let us strive longer yet to
win her heart know how she breads
the very idea Of a boarding school. She
is too good, too noble, too ingenious to be
subjected to the trials that she would en-
counter there"
"Be it as you will, Madeline" said her
husband tenderly; "but you must let me
talk to her seriously on the matter"
mot a word Edwardl" cried Mrs.
Crampfort. "lf am ever to penetrate
into the depth of her affection, it must be
by my own efforts. And"
She paused, for at that instant SER
want entered to request Mr.. Crampfort's
attendance in the reception room. And
when she was left alone, she sat gazing
out into the twilight, with moisture in
her eyes that made quivering rings
around the first pale stars, whose light
was beginning to glow in the purple
horizon.
III she would once call me by the
sweet name of mother" broke almost in
voluntarily from her lips.