Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1873-11-15
TIE sTEP.MOTELER.

81 am afraid you are not sufficient
ly protected from the night air, my
love; perhaps you had better wear
this light shawl over your shoul-
ders."
Il shall most assuredly do nothing
Of the sort, Mrs. CramfOrt.
Olivia Cramfort stood on the ter
race in front of the door, looking like
n naughty young princess, in her
white dress, with pearls glowing soft
Iy through the net work of her gold
en- hair. She was hardly fifteen, with
violet gray eyes, checks tainted with
the faintcSt bloom, and n mouth as
superbly carved as that of Diana Of
Ephesus.
Half way down the steps, with one
light hand resting on the marble rail,
stood Mrs. Cramfort, her young step
mother. 1t would be difficult to I'M
agine two STYLES Of beauty more
widely difTerint than those Of Olivia
and her fathers wife. The latter was
tall aud largely moulded, with heavy
coils of magnificent CbOn-black hair,
brunette skin, and eyes whose melt
ing, misty darkness had a purplish-
CLEAN in their liquid depths. Her
dress was of crimson silk, draped
with rich black lace, and the only
ornament in her hair was the gold
comb that fastened its luXuriance.-
She paused abruptly, as Olivia spoke
the short, COutcmptuOus, quick SEN
tences, while the deep scarlet rose to
her ordinary pale check.
"Olivia-my daughter! =
Il am not your daughter, Mrs.
CramfOrt," said Olivia, haughtily,
''nor shall l allow myself TO be die
tatCd to by stcp-mOther. And once
for all those little hypOcritical airs Of
affection, whatever effects they may
produce on my father, are thrown
away on me -
She walked away down the broad
path, her lips curlcd, and her face
| coldly scornful, while Mrs. Cramfort
still stood leaning against the marble
/ ballustrade holding her hands to her
| heart, as If Olivia's words HAD been
poisoned arrows that were ranking
/ there.
'Wil she never learn to love me p
| thought the young step-mOther. Shall
l never win the entrance to her heart:
Oh, if she but knew how truly ]
would cherish her-and yet -
The tears glistened in Mrs. Cram.
forts lovely. dark eyes, as she turned
to the house, where only Ohvia's es
arrangement cast a shadow on hcl
bright life.
Edward CramfOrJ was sitting, read
inc, bv the library window, as hi
wife came slowly in. He was q all
handsome man, with Il few silve
threads spriukled in his hair, though
he had scarcely reached middle age
and large blue eyes, where the expires
sion seemed perpetually to vary, ans
as he looked up to the well know
sound with the most idolatrous ten
derness, said:
You look grave, Madeline. -
"Do 10" She tried to smile, bu
the tears came instead. as she So
down beside him on the low stool
Madeline, my dear one, what Ia
happened to grioye you?'
"Oh. Edwardr' she sobbed, III
could but learn the secret Of Olivia
love"
The fathers broad forehead dar
0 ! kCned with stern shadow.
Has she dared to be impcrtineu
to YOU, Madeline? If she has"
% "Oh no, nO,' hurriedly lnterpose
Mrs. Cramfort, with the color risin
to her temples. Pray do not dra'
any such differences from my careles
words. Only, dearest, 1 love her s
dearly, and 1 cannot win 4 single ter
der word or glance from her.
! would cherish her so deyotedly woul
she but allow me. There IS so muc
that is winning and noble about he
that I cannot but feel her estrangt
ment most acutely."
| Madeline" said Mr.. Cramfor