Litchfield enquirer., 1873-06-19
!y determined withal not so bstFay him

into her hands. -yr [,l-fst
 Josephine was resolved on the contrary, however, and for day or two there were some bold, some strategic fnaneuverines on either side. Then, for three days, Gil liam stayed away altogether from the Oar rells, Whither she, on Elise's account she, like all the rest, petting that poor I chid-was used to go daily.
 Ned sauntered over to learn why. He came unexpectedly upon scene that by no means pleased him. Out upon the grass where the trees threw cool, pleas ant shadow, and the house screened them the westering sun, Jack had brought camp-stool and book, and near him, on q cushion, with her work basket and her l sewing, sat Gillian, looking so softly bright, so as if nothing were left to wish for, 1t could scarcely have been pleas ant sight for the approaching lover to contemplate, however it might have charmed an artist
 Jack had been reading to her something of his own, poem full of sparkle like generous wine-strong, brave, and bright, llke3ls genial philosophy. She had drop ped her work to listen. Now she said, "Jack, nobody does me good like you | You are wholesome bitter to me-mak- l ing me ashamed of what am, while you teach me how noble was born to be. I am going to crown you my poet laureate, although the laurels are wanting-not in- digenous to this soil But here is an ap- propriate substitute r
 She laughed as she pulled spray of bitter-sweet from the vine that clung to the tree behind him, and bound it gar land-wise about his brows.
 ''Bittersweet P quoth Jack ''Ah, Gill 1 han, you hardly think, l doubt, how neat and appropriate your garland is l" 1 Gillian had resumed her cushion and her seam; but at Jacks announcement, Company for you, Gillian p she looked over her shoulder, threw down her work, and went leisurely over the grass to meet | him.
 powered the gate. without entering, cross ing his arms on the pickets, and waited, looking darkly over his loves head at the crowned poet under the maple.
 ''I regret interrupting you," he said, | bringing his eyes coldly back to Gillian. She had seen their blue light grow bleak before, the glance glooming and darken- ing, and she had scarcely liked that ex- pression in the eyes of her future lord.
 ''1t is of no consequence" said Gillian, nonchalantly: "I thought perhaps you wanted to see me ?"
 ''Yes, Elise sent me"
 ''Oh, Elise sent you ?" smallest possible accent on the ''sent." ''She missed you-you know, Gillian" "Ah she missed me? That was kind of her, surely"
 ''Why, of course we all did, for that matter" said this blundering ambassador. ''What kept you?"
 ''I rather think if anything did, it must have been JacA
 "I hope he intends to take himself of soon He monopolizes you altogether too much"
 Thanks for your kind wishes. don't. i Unfortunately such visits are notoriously | far between and brief. I suppose your cousin IS with you yet ?" civilly. l ''Stephanie came to spend the summer, believe" he answered, stifay, yet flush ing darkly across bis forehead.
 S'Now think of it, so she did I wish Jack could take an equally long holiday, but we less favored ones who earn our l bread by our brains may not lose many working days, though June be beautiful and the rest be sweet Appropos-won't you come inside and join us ?"
 ''Thank you, some other time when l have more leisure. I left Stephanie in the veranda setting the men for game of chess. Au revoir !'
 "Addio," with gay courtesy and way ing hand.
 Whereupon Ned, with face like a thunder cloud and heart planted dex- terously with thorns, lifted his hat and strode wrathfully home; while Gillian, vexed, yet laughing, thinking, ''Stephanie is welcome to him; only I've paid off what owe them both, returned to her seat at Jacks feet, gave up her ear to the intiu- ence of Jacks mellow voice, and in three minutes thereafter had forgotten all about her lover and her merry malice toward him.
 Another interruption came all too soon; one long premeditateda and provided for. After their early tea, while yet the people in the high street, oblivious of teas, were lingering over dessert, Jack strolled forth l to smoke his pipe, and Gillian, carrying her straw hat by the string, walked by his side.
 1 They rambled among the old graves i'll l the quiet church yard, talking about Jacks future "Yours," he said to Gillian, "be ing settled to certain point, beyond which, by your own consent, the authorl- ty over it is vested in another"
 ''You ought to marry, too, Jack. 'FYes, I suppose so. But that IS one of 1 the events in life about which one ought never 10 be in g hurry. shall wait until 1 I find her"
 ,''How odd it would seem, though. to have you caring for somebody else more than for me, said Gillian, thoughtfully.
 Ut is what we must all come to-" said Jack, slightly smiling. "I found it odd at first to have another preferred before me in. your thoughts. l Gillian started and glanced up at him with frank den1al in her face-on her lpss but another face peeped over his shoul- ders as he sat easily poised on an old tombstone, careless1y swinging one foot among the crimsoning clover heads, puff ing forth wreaths of fragrant LatHkia, and regarding the amber sunset. ! ''Josephine
 ''Why, my dear, how must have star tied you! Or have you seen ghost? I thought the witching hour of night came something later.'h
 Then followed an introduction to MF. Dane, as Josephine had fully intended when she compassed this fanking opera ton; an easy explanation, en passant, of how she came to be there with her hands full of ferns, which Gillian readily trans lated; and a slow stroll homeward with plenty of merry talk, in which, however, Gillian, suddenly puzzled by the state of things in her own mind, scarcely bore her part.
 ''It is so very fortunate, all things con- sidered, that I met you this evening"" said Josephine, frankly, as they paused under the larches by the little gate in the back street, ''for now can ask you to our garden party, tomorrow, consisting of the Darre1ls, yourselves, I hope, and croquet. And pray consider. Mir. Dane, that, if you come, we, the undersigned superintendent young women, are the obliged parties"
 sI can't resign my liberty of conscience, Miss Trent, even to you. Permit me to add; also, that of flowers, music, and beauty, one can never have more than enough"
 Then. having opened the gate for Gil