Ellsworth American., 1874-07-30

| prisoner. IA Z
"Not yet. cannot answer vet. You
must be patient-you must wait"
"Waitl And for bow long? Osu
you not comprehend the misery Of such
suspense?"
| She turned her face toward him,
with slight, but forcsd laugh.
''ls 1t the accomplished Airt, Julian
Fenton, who speaksi I cannot reali.
zs the fact. Patience yet for . week
or two. l will write to you when
reach Paris. You must give me time
TO mediate over my answer, for rem.
ember that am no impulsive girl to
reply yea or nay in BREATH"
"But-"
"Nay; but it must be - say" shs
interrupted, holding mp her hand u
stop his expostulations. "And not a.
other word Of love must you spsak,
while We are on board this ship. L do
not want the busy tongues Of the pas.
sengers TO be set wagging about our
affairs any more than can be helped" !"
These are hard conditions, Mrs.
Castlemaine."
"Shall l say No, at once then ?" she
asked playfally, rising As she spoke,
and looking bewitchingly lovely in the
soft moonlight. "Choose, Mr.. Fentou,
and will abide by your choice, which.
ever it may be-"
Then my motto shall be, Wait and
Hope! But you are . stern tyrant p
Like most female sovereigns, l be-
lieve," she answered, smilingly. "Good
night, then. and pleasant Dreams"
They will be pleasant, for shall
dream Of you."
Another smile, . wave Of the hand,
and she was gone. Julian Fenton
lighted another cigar, and leaned
against the bulwarks, meditatipg
dreamily over his future establishment
in Fifth Avenue, and cogitating the
possibility Of securing . certain desir.
able villa At Newport for himself dur
the next summer.
II was no wonder that he felt conf.
dent Of success, in this, the first matri.
monial venture he had ever decided up
on taking. His good looks, his wealth,
social position, his seventeen years
experience in "our best society,"" had
all combined TO lend him attractive
ness in the eyes Of the fair sex, and
he had been petted and sought after To
an extent that would have made
meeker man vain. lie had for years
acted IS . butterfly among the fairest
flowers Of his native land, lowering ov.
er the sweet aud the beautiful, but
disdaining 70 settle anywhere. Aud
now the rover is caught ut last-the
the butterfly WAS netted-his. freedom
was gone.
lie smiled to himself A. he made the
silent confession that his heart was
thrilling with neg and upwontsd. em-
ing before the door OF Mrs. Castle
naine's state-room, with q sort Of
deep, chivalrous tenderness Of feel
lug, that surprised him into something
very like PRAYER for her safety and
reposc.
The next day the steamer arrived at
Brest, and Mrs. Castlemaine disem-
barked there, being met on the wharf
by an aged lady, who seemed overjoy-
ed at seeing her neice. Mr.. Fenton
would fain have quilted the ship also,
and journeyed with his lady-love TO
Paris but this she positively forbade /;
so he was forced to content himself
with escorting her on shore. Their
parting was very hurried one. but
as they shook hands, Mrs. Csstlemaine
again whispered II will write.'
Two days after Mr.. Fenton's arri-
val at Meurice's, q letter was handed
to him-the letter which he had 10 ar
deutly expected. The delicate flow.
ing hand which though unseen before,
bore too distinctly the characteristics
Of the writer to be mistaken, and the
dainty monogram Of r. ID. c. on the
envelope were tokens that he welcom.
ed with delight. With an eager hand
he tore open the envelope.
''Once upon time"
How oddly it began Could be have
been mistaken? He turned 70 the sig
nature, and read there, Rosa d. Cas-
tlemaine, 30 be recommended the per.
usal Of the oddly worded missive.
"Once upon time-for that is,
believe, the way to begin . story about
forgotten persons and ancient places,
there came to Newport an old lady
from Nashville, with = very young
niece in her charge. Tho time Vas
eight years ago, not 90 very long after
the conclusion Of the war, and the
Queen House, where these ladies were
staying, was anything but gay. The
niece, Rosa, was q small, shy, timid
little person, without any knowledge
Of the world or Of society. This trip to
Newport was her first entrance into
either-and she found things very
dull, and not at al what she had i'm
agined. Her aunts acquaintances
were but few in number, and we're
quite staid, old people, like herself, 90
that poor Rosa's opportunities for dis
sipation we're mostly oonfine.. TO an af.
ternoon drive, or seat beside her
aunt in the long corridor, which, on
Saturday evenings, was filed with .
gay and animated crowd, but which, At
other times, vas stapid enough. 1t
seemed 20 dull and lonely, too. for
her, on those gay Saturdays, when
everybody else walked, and talked, and
chatted with their acquaintances, and
discussed the last party, or the one to
come, and made plans to 60 hither and
thither on pleasant excursions, while
she. poor, pale, dark.eysd child, eat
silent in the shadow beside her aunt,
and felt dreamy and lonely, and very
much inclined to cry for very weari-
ness, and longing for little Of the
pleasure that seemed TO b sown broad.
cast all about her, but which never
seemed 70 spring up and bear hrigh,
blossom or fragrant fruit for her.
Zone unusually crowded .svsning
| R<,aA nvAPhnars3 . .vNsss>> sns~H ~ - :,