The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1874-04-01
RICHMOND.

AN not iuufuStSuL W yOu
There was something in the eonceit-
that made Effie intensely indignant.
claimed. How dare you insult me
SOP"
"Ah. Efie, Why effect TO be crual?
Why struggle against fatcy
1T never was intended, Mr. Talbot.
by any fate. that should listen to
such foolish talk" said EHie, fairly
out of patience. 1.-The best thing you
can do is to go back to the village, and
leave me to go home alone
"Well-but, Edie, [ was sure you
loved me-"
Then YOU we're utterly mistaken,
she said eOldly; and don't call ire
Ef6e."
And you will not listen to my
suit2"
mo, nor endure your presence, ;"
she replied. aud abruptly turned away
from him.
They had been standing, durin. the
latter part of the talk, sheltered some
what by a clump Of eversreens- Now
Ef3ie turned out into the road again.
Mr.. Talbot called after her oocc, bu.
she did not turn.
''She's little spitfre anyway. lie
murmured. Then aloud:
Miss Efie. Miss Ef6e, | will -
home with you you are afraid
She turned at once, her eyes dasl :
ing.
mo. Mr.. Talbot. l an, not afraio.
Pray do not bother yourself on my
account. l am much better OF with
ont Won Good evening
She hurried ON again- He looked
after her a moment, aud then, with
shrug, turned back toward the Will
age.
These last words sounded very reso-
lutte certainly. He must have made =
mistake. Efie was wiser than he
thought her and his time for the last
few days had been very evidently
wasted
Musing thus he walked on. and then
a sudden thought struck him. Why
should he not 90 back to New York
after alR He had only decided to
stay in the country on the chance OF
improving his Irritation With Efhe, and
If that was a failure he had much bet
ter 60 aud spend his Christmas in the
city.
With this thought he pulled out his
watch. He could just make ont, in
the dim light, that by hurrying he
might catch the last express train. So
he made the best of his way to the no :
tel, gathered together hastily his
effects, and rushed of, leaving tb,.
landlord astare at the unaecountablo
suddenness of his movements
He was just in time to reach the
train, and scarcely half an hour after
he had parted from Miss Efhe was
whirling past her house on his way to
New York.
Meantime, the young lady he had
left was pi"ddin8 on through the
storm: and her thoughts were not very
pleasant companions.
This man had insulted her-tlis
seemed very evident. There was
nothing genuine in his tone lie had
said no word OF marriage Did he
| think she was SO weak as TO tolerate
such impertinenee? Oh. where was
Tom Allen-dear old Tom, ~hO loved
her SO dearly. and longed to make her
his vife2 Tears came into Efhc I
| willful eyes, and she was sorryenOugi'
! for her foolish coquetry.
Absorbed in such reflections she
had gone on some distance without
paying much attention to her way,
| when a sudden turn in the road
brought her TO a standstill.
She looked about her with disniay
| she was on the wrong track. She must
have taken the wrong turu at the ever
| green's, where she parted With Talbot
Just there the two roads met, and IL
the excitement, bewiidered 10y tn.
| storm, she had gone down the roat
| leading to the next town, instead o.
the one on which stood the house, tn.
home of her widowed mother
| What should she do? Go back? No
that looked such long and dreary
way; and in an evil moment Efhe dc
cided to go across the fields
With some difficulty she made hcl
| way to the fence, climed over it, and
went plungiug on over the ftackle
| snow. 1t was not much worse than IL
the road, but the storm was driving
| right in her face now She held on
though, manfully, nothing daunted
for some distance But the nigh
grew rapidly darker, the cold incrcas
ed, and by the time she reached thu
second field, Efie was fairly bewilder
ed.
| Still she tramped on, until she wa'
suddenly brought up by a high ston'
wall. 1t doomed up before her out o
the darkness, black, with snow tuftin!
it here and there, and great snov
cap on its summit.
Now, for the first time, Ef6e wa
disheal tened. That showed she wa
wrong in the direction she had taken
1t ran at right angles with the roa,
she had left; she ought not, therefore
to have come to it. There was moth
ing for her but to follow it aloEg, un
til she came to the next fence, whicl
she knew must he the one on the roat
leading to her house.
/ Tired, cold, breathless. she reaches
it at last and began to climb it Th'
snow was very deep now. 1t was har..
for her to hang on with her nam'
hands, and somehow, when she reaches
the top she slipped and fell. A shar]
pain shot through her ankle, whicl
was bent under her. She staggered t
her feet. but each motion was agony
and after few feeble steps she sanl
down with cry of pain. She had re
ceiyed a severe sprain, that was eyi
dent, and further progress unassistet
was out of the question.
/ As Effie realized this her courag'
fairly gave way. She drew herself ,
little back into the corner, wrappes
her cloak over her, hid her face dow
in her mrf, sobbing bitterly Sh'
was we'll punished for her coquetry
She had made Tom miserable; perhaps
lost him forever, and for whats Onl.
to be insulted and deserted by thz
conceited fop. His conduct had beef
unmanly, first IN insulting her as b.
4 had done. next In learinc her unde