Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1873-12-10

seemed intensely lnVltlng. AS IL was
nothing but a cluster of fishing cottages,
it seemed to offer but small chance of ac-
commodation but luckily, did succeed
in making arrangements for bed and
board in one of them, and the next week
found me quite settled down as an amateur
fisherman, in the most rustic and patriarch
al little spot you ever saw.
have seldom seen handsomer women
than the fsh-girls of Vignelles with their
broad, full chests and muscular limbs,
bright black eyes and thick wayward hair,
to say nothing of their rich brown COM
plexions and glowing cheeks. that would
have shamed many young lady whose
hands have never touched anything rough
er than silk. and whose notion of work i
crochet or Berlin wool.
had spent two or three weeks at Wig
nelles, and was fast becoming accustom
led to its rough, almost savage life, when
fortunately | made acquaintance with a
brother artist, who, though much older
than myself, was most sympathetic IN taste
and feeling, and with wnom quickly be-
came friends Unluckily he did not live
in Vigneles, but about two miles distant,
in solitary little house on the cliff, com-
manding however, view of the sea.
1t was there | first saw Adele. She
was his only child, and the idol of mis-
heart. seem to see her now, as | saw
her for the first time, and thought her the
most beautiful girl upon the earth. l can't
tell you the color OF her hair and eyes, tor
they were mystery to me. L think her
ieyes must have been brown, but they often
looked quite back-as black as her eye
brows and eyelashes and as for her hair,
it was all shades Of gold, red, russet-brown
and black. | really do not recolect about
her features, except that they were beautl-
full nor how tai she was, except that l
was taller; nor whether she was plump or
thin, but only that she was perfect. She
was perfect, too in disposition, as amiable
and unsefsh as she was lovely. She was
clever, too, without being highly accom-
plished. She used to sing to Us of an even
ing, in her sweet girlish voice, quaint old
dtties or simple ballads; she could draw
and paint, cook little, row boat-ln
fact, do almost anything. She helped her
mother in the house, and yet was her faith
er's constant companion. She was always
thinking for others-never tor herself, and
was witha as lIght-hearted and bllthesome
as a girl of seventeen ought to be.
She was friends with me at once, and
before many days were over, it seemed to
be settled thing that the little house OIL
the cliff was open to me- was free tc
come and 90 as pleased.
The days glded away very quickly
SIX weeks or two months had passed, anC
at the end of that time | was obliged tt
acknowledge to myself that | had done ;
very foolish thing. | had fallen terrlbl J
in love with Adele.
II was very foolish thing, for | wa
POOR and entirely dependent on my owr
exertions, and at that time my profession
al taanls were By no means appreciated
Monsieur Berton was, L knew, far iron
rich, and Adele was little more than ;
child Still the fact remained, and | wa:
helpless to extricate myself.
The worst of it was that she hersel
seemed quite unconscious OF 1t, and by he
very innocence only made matters worse
During all this time we had grown yer,
intimate, and it seemed quite natura
that we should be together nearly all day
neither Monsieur nor Madame Berto
y made any objection, but allowed US to wall
Is and talk as much as we pleased. | sup
< pose they completely trusted Adee-a
a Adele completely trusted me indeed
y, very soon discovered this, partly from he
)" manner, and partly through intuition
% She would talk to me quite openly, anC
even confdlngly, asking my advice an
1T opinion On various subjects, and she treat
st ed me with familiarity that showed he
unsuspicion by its very openness. o
N course, treated her in the same way;
to could not do otherwise To have been for
IS NAL or Indifferent was impossible to hav
d, ventured to make love to her would hay
e, seemed to me like abusing privilege
d, and betraylng trust. am very gla
)y now to think that | never allowed mysel
lie to say anything to her, that from our in
Of timacy was not perfectly excusable.
n In the meantime the days passed OF
9n and | grew more and more in love wit
'u her. 1 felt that something ought to follow
But what? Of course, the wisest thing
e. could have done was to 60 lmmedlatel
L away, but that was far easier said tha
s done. The fascination was too strong tC
II me; l could not resolve to voluntarily sa
1t goodbye to Adele. | seemed to see he
er sweet face looking up sorrowfully al
or pleadingy into mine, and to hear her so
ms musical voice, as she begged me to sta,
at even for little longer. "No, no" said
a. to myself, Il can't goat least, not ju
We yet" So staid on, and put off the ev
ng day, and gave myself up entirely to th
'e, pleasure of Adele's society How Ion
lie this might have lasted, it is impossible
say, if suddenly the end had not come.
&c This was how it was. One morning
d d went as usual to the Berton's. | four
nobody in the garden, so pushed ope
g the door of the house and went in. A
d was silent, there was no trace of any on
~ 's This was very unusual Monsi, ur Bertc
- was generally in the garden, and MADAM
I Ie Berton or Adele in the little room dign
q fed by the name of parlor. l was puzzle
=. and was just going to call out, when L r
I'' membered a little back room whit
no Madame Berton sometimes used as worl
ou room. looked in and saw Adele lyil
huddled up on the couch, weeping bitterl
:. l sprang forward, and kneeing by her, e
treated her to tell me the cause of b
''' grief. At first she only shook her hea
~ n0 and continued to cry but after til
III she grew calmer, and tried to speak.
"Tell me what it is" 1 urged; ape
~ 'lS haps l can help you; you may trust n
lu' indeed you may"
ne 81 know, know" answered she )" y
LIZ ho are so kind, but in this you can be
an ~ help"
Cy. g Al laast Toll mo ranoatad T--sl