The Lake County star. [volume] (Chase, Mich.) 1873-current, 1874-09-03

shirk again."
Then he locked at her with his grea
pleading, deep blue eyes, which said q
that pride tied his tongue from sayin,
kissed her twice, thrice, passionately, an
was gone.
Celia, perhaps, if she could have O
dered all exactly to her liking, woul
not have had her moth fly quite so IA
of, but she was not one to look bacl
her hand once put to the plow; she ha
spoken for Rory's good, come what Nigh
OF it; if he was therefore lost to her, q
least he was gained to himself, as sh
believed, and because it was workin
itself out beyond her anticipation. S
she kept on cheerily along the round c
her daily duties, those multifarious care
known only to farmers wives an
daughters, who, whatever happens, mus
be prepared for seed-time and harvest
Celia was as capable little mistress a
ever lived, and her quick eye and ste
pervaded the house like spring breeze
she was here, there, and everywhere
providing for the men, overseeing TIN
maids, scolding them, too, sometimes, IL,
doubt, all through the week, and then OF
Sundays ready in her place in the choir
with voice and face as fresh as her 90
to-meeting best, laid up in lavendar ant
rose-leaves; leading, in short, the good
old-tashioned,. orthodox village life, in
Guiding, perhaps, the Sparkling" whc
knows? for she was not only the pretti
est girl in the town, but an only child
whose father possessed substantial
charms of another sort.
Rory, meanwhile, was doing wei
cover there" as they called the great
far-away, tropical country, whose dis
tance in crossing he seemed to have
bridged over for those left behind in the
red house under the northern pines and
naples. He had been very lucky, he
wrote, in the partnership into which he
had entered; was not making money with
rush, exactly, but certainly was not
losing it; was getting very rich in expe-
rience, if not in gold. His letters were
assuredly prosaic enough, they dealt less
with description than with facts, and
with sentiment least of all; the widest
stretch of imagination could not have
made them into lovc-letters; they might
have been read aloud on town-meeting
day without raising a blush Oh Celia's
cheek. Yet still there was always some
allusion which nobody but herself could
understand; something which, without
any direct appeal, was meant to refresh
old memories which might yet be alive
in her heart. So, at least, the girl fam
cied, until she remarked certain other
more frequent of late, to the
hn Al
cousin Juanita, who owned miles of vim
yard, who had the largest eyes and the
smallest feet, and was the best bolero-
dancer ofall the senoritas in that whole
region. Then doubt gradually formed
tself in Celia's mind. A doubt strength
med by the innocent comment of Uncle
Jacob, who had no more notion of any
special tenderness between his daughter
md his nephew than if they had been a
pair of lovers in the moon, instead of
light under his silver-bowed spectacles
The boys following in his fathers
rack" chuckled the worthy man, and
n her heart Celia believed that her
ather was right. Then, over her knit
ing, she would try to make picture for
lerself of Juanita, as she looked dancing
hat Outlandish but no doubt bewitching
lance, the bolcro, and the Spanish girls
lack eyes would flash, and her little feet
winkle curiously all through the staid
New England conversation, till, finally,
'hen Mark Wilson, or young DIR. Heath,
r Lewis Sunderland from over the hill,
ad said good night and gone away, Celia
1ould bctake herself to her chamber,
here to piece out the broken images
gain in dreams, and fancy she heard
'ory's rich voice singing serenades under
he thick-blossomed creepers, and saw
he CLEAN of gold in Juanita's black
loud of tresses, till she started suddenly
road awake, with the sun in her eyes,
nd Peters whistle in her ears, as he
'ent out to fodder the cattle in the early
forming. Then she would half smile as
nc made her simple but dainty toilet,
nd standing before the glass, shook loose
yer her fair face the thick, waving locks
nat needed no foreign ornament to give
lem the CLEAN of gold; then she would
D lightly down stairs, for she must set
ic whole household machinery in mo-
on, she must see that others ate and
rank, she must eat and drink herself
nd, amid her multiplicity ofoccupations,
le had no time to pine or pale, and so
le new day would wear pleasantly
lough to close, like those that had
me before and should follow after.
So four years slipped away, and then
Rory came home, suddenly, without a
ord of warming; he wanted to give
cm a surprise, he said. And huge
rprise it was; only; after little, he
I'd dropped so completely into his old
ace, that it seemed as if he had never
'en away. So said Uncle Jacob.
"You amt bit changed, not bit"
ent on the old man. "You're brow
ough-yes; but then you always was
flee-coior, you know, Rory, hey?'
"Yes, 1 know" answered Rory, return
g the old mans laugh. "But 1 am
anged for all that, Uncle Jacob. Ask
lila"
"Well, well, perhaps you be, perhaps
u be-" said the old man. "My eyes
Mt what they were, nor my glasses,
ither. / shall have to buy new pair,
guess" But the change i'm his nephew
Is one which no new pair of glasses
nor even of eyes, unless they had been
lia's-would have enabled Uncle Jacob
see.
"Spose we shan't keep you long"
he, presently. "You'll be in ,
hurry TO get back again?" /
''No, Uncle Jacob" answered Rory, {
We come home for good. / mean to !
, and turn to account here what I've 8
lnaged to pick up out there"
"Aha! didn't / say SO? Going to do q
It as his father did," chuckled the G
farmer, oblivious, apparently, Of the q
t that neither his fathers agricul- j
raj nor matrimonial ventures had
riven in transplanting. "But you'll
We to go back, though, to fetch your :
de. When's it TO be, eh, lad? when's >
, wedding coming offg' :
The wedding" repeated Rory, dream ]
/; then, with start and smile. "Oh. a
ne time next year, expect"
Then il really was to be-" thought a
liza, as she watched Rory's unconscious a
c. How strange that she should
ve been the one to send him half d
Oss the world to find n wife i'm this d