Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1873-04-03

Il
flirted abominably with her.
Grace, meanwhile, sat apart from me.
She talked to others in her low, sweet
tones Once she sang a pretty love
song. Quite calm and self-possed, with
no appearance of noticing my conduct,
the thought that it troubled her never
occurred to me. So that when the eve
ming was over, and we had left the house
together, was astonished beyond meas
ure to see an offended look upon her
face, and to hear an offended tone in her
voice / offered her my arm. She re-
iected il. replying that the ground was
damp, and that her hands were occupied
with her dress, but knew that this was
merely an excuse; and feeling myself il
the wrong, and having swallowed more
wine than | should at the supper table,
/ grew very angry.
''May | ask what | have done?" |
said.
"You know" sale Grace.
II know!" / repeated. ''Nay, know
must explain"
81 scarcely think it worth while,
said she. 'If you do not know that you
have done wrong tonight, l really
should not care. You have neglected
me, and devoted yourself to that vulgar
woman. l heard a lady near me say
that you seemed to be tired of your bar
gain. She saw that you were in love with
that creature. So did other people. I'm
der the circumstances, ] have right TO
feel offended-insulted."
Perhaps she thought Iwould deny her
! charge. Perhaps she expected me TO
plead for pardon God knows what
possessed me. | answered only:
''May / not talk to a pretty woman
because | hope to marry you some day 2"
''You were flirting-almost making
love to her," she replied.
''She is the sort of woman with whom
men fall in love-" | said Irresistible
in her manner, I've heard she makes con-
quests everywhere; don't doubt it. !"
Grace looked at me with stern face
white, in the starlight, as a marble
/ statute.
'Other women are always jealous Of
such women, I added.
Her lip curled.
II am not Jealous of her." she said.
/ Il would not be like her for kingdom.
She is a terrible woman. But since you
/ admire her so, you are free TO tell her so
after you have seen me to my door.
'Grace !" said.
''8Iiss Hunter, if you please, Nh.
| Rutherford, said she. 1--WE have both
made little mistake easily rectifed
! that is all. :"
/ felt, as l stood looking at her, that
/ the effect of the wine had drank upon
me was stronger than had thought, but
| gave no heed to the warning of my
giddy head and rapid pulse.
''Just as you please, l said. Il
should think that a jealous woman
would curse any mans life. I'll 90
now. won't trouble you longer. Good
bye"
We were not at the door of her home
we were about half block from it;
but turned on my heel then and there,
and left her. staggered a little as /
walked, and | was hot and angry. /
made my way home, and without IN
dressing, fell upon my bed and dropped
asleep.
In two hours awakened sober ! sat
up and looked about me. The scenes of
the evening REQUIRED to me yividly. /
saw how blameworthy had been, and
a terrible grief possessed me. / put my
| head down upon my hands and burst
! into tears. had lost her, and with her
all that made life precious. Then hope
dawned upon my soul. / would write
to her; tell her how, unused to liquor as
| was, the wine had affected me.
would tell her that to my sober self
there was no charm in the woman who
had seemed to enchant me the evening
before. | would draw the comparison
that felt so keenly between her pure
self and that bold-eyed fiirt. / would
pray for forgiveness, and she would
forgive me.
Springing to my feet, rushed to my
desk. | drew from it pen and paper. /
wrote letter overflowing with remorse
and tenderness | read it and re-read it.
Then leaving it on the spot where it was
written, / stood at the window waiting
for the tardy dawn, jealous of the slow
hours that kept my missive from my
darling
The night was at its stillest. The stars
were bright as ever, but the moon had
set.
had put out my candle when left
my desk, and the room should have been
dark but as turned my head, after
long and anxious recovery, / saw that II
was full of pale radiance like that of
moonlight 1t startled me. Whence
did the light come? Had a miracle oc-
curred-had the moon risen again
Suddenly, amid this silvery light ap-
| peared still whittier radiance. It slow
ly took form. A female figure, in white
garments so bright that they dazzled the
eyes, stood bending over my letter.
/ remained motionless-to speak or
stir was not in my power-and gazed on
the strange object with terrified inten-
sity. The figure seemed to turn the
pages of my letter with its transparent
hand. / heard gentle sigh then the
head turned toward me, and / saw a face
/ knew-the face that seemed the love-
lest of all on earth to me, endowed with
mysterious and divine beauty for
which no man could find words-the
glorifed face of sweet Grace Hunter.
At the sight ] burst the bonds which
held me-bonds as tangible as though ]
could have seen them-and rushed for
ward. / strove to clasp my love, or her
, shadow, in nv arms. A shock such as
one might experience from an electrical
machine flashed through me, and fell
powerless on the floor.
, When | recovered the day had dawn
ed. and under the blue morning sky the
city had awakened but my day never
dawned again. My heart never awoke
: to lifes sweetness.
To end this story in few short words,
, Grace Hunter never reached her home
that night, and never was heard Of
again. The family imagined that she
: had remained with her friends. and were
not anxious about her. ] had left her
) within sight of her own door, and why
r she did not reach it shall never know.
{ But ] do know that in some woeful man
e ner she died that night, and that her
e parting spirit paused in its fight TO bid
me long farewell.
c / have outlived my youth, and the
e suspicion that fell upon me and imbit-
: tered many years of my existence; but
/ shall never outlive my love for Grace
o Hunter, or my remorse for that night s
!. woeful work / shall never outlive the
e knowledge that, in the madness caused
4 bv wine and an evil woman's epcbant.
n ment, was the cause of my darling
e unknown death.
pi