The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1874-11-06


tion and longing-the books he gave her
were such as lover would choose-and
his daily eagerness to see ber, told her
more plainly than words how pleasant
he found her society She combined in
her nature the fervor of a woman and
the honest simplicity of a child. She
was too inexperienced to ask herself why
he did not speak-it was sufficient for her
that he tras. Her heart had been like a
tight-cIosed rosebud when he came; and
its petals were opening already to the
warmth of this new summer, Of which
he was the sun.
| Meantime, be, poor fellow, was not
quite comfortable in his mind. This ac-
quaintance had not been less pleasant
than he imagined it would be; but it
was growing too serious Not that Bes-
sic had in the slightest degree thrown
herself at his head. She was too deli
! cate a woman; too shy beneath her frank
ness; for anything like that. To save
his life he could not teIl whether she
really ca ed for him or not, and he was
beginning to long ardently to know. Yet
it was question he must not ask; and
he began TO see that from asking it he
could find no decent, not to say chivaf-
rous escape. If he had been wooing
Bessie Crandail for his wife, he could
hardly have done more or other than he
had been doing for nearly six weeks past
And now his family were imperatively
summoning him. They had returned as
far as Saratoga; and, in this haunt of the
well-dressed, they found one escort for
them all an insufficient allowance-he
must have caught and eaten enough
trout by this time TO turn his brain in
to phosphorus. and, really, they could
spare HIM no longer. He felt that he
must goat once, that is, tomorrow.
This afternoon he would pass with Bes-
sic.
| As he went tow d the hocse where he
had spent so many pleasant hours he felt
himself coward. Could he go away
and not tell her the truth? Would any
truth, however hard or cruel, be so igno-
bic as to depart, leaving her, if indeed
she cared for him at all, a prey to the
vain expectations he had done his best
to create? Would-but he paused. Fate
must settle it all. Perhaps she did not
care; and if so no harm was done. But
all the while he was conscioue of wild,
miserabl longing to see the light of love
in her eyes, and to kiss the sweet, sensi-
tive mouth, trembling with its first
words of tenderness for him. He went
in, and found Bessie in the great, cool
parlor, fragrant with flowers. She was
a creature of infinite variety; coquettish
sometimes, serious sometimes, and never
twice the same. This afternoon she was
changeful and brilliant, and elusive as
the humming- bird that fitted in and out
of the rose-tree under her window. Her
mood tortured him. If he was brutal,
that torture, perhaps, was slight excuse
but then brutality is SO often the re-
source of perplexed man. If he only
knew whether she cared for him! If not,
he might spare himself the confession he
had to make-but how could he be sure?
He drew picture from his pocket, a
little miniature painted on ivory--the
face of a woman pure and proud and
cold-"icily regular, splendidly null"
he had said to himself this very day as
he looked at it in his own chamber.
81 believe I have never shown you
this" he said, handing it to Bessie,-"do
you think it handsome?"
"Your sister," she asked, looking at
the picture cacelsssly.
"No, my cousin, Miss Margaret Stur-
gis, whom am engaged to marry"
He had longed to know whether she
cared for him; but in that moment l
think he would rather his doubt had re-
manned unsolved.
She turned suddenlv white to the very
lips. AS long as he lives he will never
forget that momentary glimpse of her,
with all her young warmth and bright
ness gone-a woman of stone. She was
both proud and brave, and she would
never lower her flag to the enemy. In a
moment the color had come back to
cheeks and lips, and her voice did not
even tremble as she answered, quietly
; eyes, she is very handsome; one Of
; those beauties about whom there can be
= no question. I congratulate you"
5 He had been shocked when he saw
that she suffered; but now her swift com
r posure piqued him, and he showed it il
2 his tone as he replied:
81 am not sure that I am ready to bt
r congratulated Marriage, at best, is ar
D experiment"
Il think you are disloyal to your cous
in" she said, with a little scorn in hel
I tone, "when you receive my congratula
: tions in such doubtful fashion"
"Would to heaven that were my only
disloyaltyw he murmured in so low ;
voice that Bessie did not feel obliged t.
Il quite other channels, and jested ant
=" Knocked and sparkled, so that if he haC
seen her white face of stone for that on
: revealing moment, he would have be
y lieved that she cared not at alf for al
e the summer that was passed.
4 DIR. Crandall had returned before h
|, went away, and the parting was general
The next day he went to his cousin.
I" A profound student of human natur
:, says that, in marriage, the certainty ash
- will never love me much" is easier t
&c bear than the fear II shall love her n
more" 1t must be much the same wit
e lovers. There had always been vagu
" though possibly mistaken impression i
Walter Phelps mind that his cousi
L would never be very passionately in Low
'r with him; and that had never muc
TO troubled him. Passionate love, b
is thought, was not in the line of her ten
ID perament; and he had been we'll enoug
Or satisfied without it. Her grace and beat
ne ty had charmed his taste; her preferenC