Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1874-04-30

S"SSp NNSi 'h"N'N ~ SN~ 80
Cecile was as differelt from Ger
trude as a glancing fre-hy is from the
steady glow of star, or a babbling
sparkling stream from I'll e silver sur
face of lake. She was small, ant
perfectly shaped and pquant with
golden hair and q transparent skin
and those peculiar turquo ose-blue eyes
which so often accompa by a blonde
style of beauty. She had come t1
London, at Gertrude's invitation, tc
spend the winter with her; and Ger
trudes generosity had supplied th'
soft blue merino which she wore
with its sapphire velvet trimmings
and even the set Of pink coral Which
relieved her waxen skin with its deel
rose tint. Gertrude had grown very
fond of Cccile, whom she regarded as
q sort of plaything-a live doll, or
tinny white kitten--and Cecile f'r'nc
her cousins luxurious home a pleasant
contrast to the dreary farmhouse
where her uncle and his second wife
barely tolerated her rs u nurse, seam
stress, and general drudge to thei
many children.
"Answer me, Cecile," persisted
George Tracy, holding both her small
white hands in his, and looking direct
ly into the turquoise-blue eyes.
Cecile struggled to escape.
"George, how can you? What
would Gertrude say ?"
II don't care two straws what Ger
trude says ! am only interested il
you, my darling. Tell me-d'
you love me?'
"George q
"For | love you, little pet, better
than all the world besides. There
it's out now, and / don't care who
knows it."
Cecile put her hand on his lips, will
an apprehensive glance toward the
door.
"Why is this z" he asked.
"She must not know, George.
should be sent home tomorrow !"
"Then you will try and love me
dearest ?" he pleaded.
She gave him glance from be
meath her long, curled eyelashes-;
glance, half tender, half coquetish
and entirely bewildering. George
Tracy had been wavering and I'm
certain before now he lost his self
possession entirely. And while Ger
trude sat waiting and wondering il
the drawing-room above George an(
Cecile arranged the treacherous plal
which was to wreck her happines.
forever, with calm, smiling faces, an(
voices which never faltered once.
Sarah go up stair and call Miss
Moore to the breakfast table, sale
Gertrude the next morning, to the
parlor maid, who had brought in the
Kissing urn. "She is latter thai
usual"
Sarah went accordingly, but present
" returned with a scared face.
"She's not in her room, ma'am, anC
the beds not been slept in
And that was the last Gertrude
Fisher heard of her cousin Cecile anc
her betrothed husband George Tracy
for long sad years.
What did she do? What do peo
pie generally do when the weight of
great misfortune falls upon them
crushing the very life and yigor out o
their hearts ? They suffer and endure
and live on. Gertrude did this /; ant
after the first bitterness had died ou
of her nature-a kindly and gener
GUS one-she even learned to think
forgivingly Of George and the little
blue-eyed girl she had so loved an(
cherished. M
And so the bloom Of her first you'll
passed away, and settled PEACEFUL.
down into asoft-voiced, tender-eyed ole
maid for Gertrude's was not one O
those facile natures which can graft
new love on to an old disappointment
and be happy, after all has come an(
gone.
1t was toward the close of lower
ing day in December that Miss Fish
er's carriage closely shut, and cushion
ed with velvet, drew up in front of ont
of those fashion emporiums wher
ladies delight in congregating.-
Madame D'Aubri herself came for
ward to greet the rich heiress.
SIS my dress finished, madame !?
inquired Gertrude.
Madame would inquire. Would
Miss Fisher be seated? Presently
a.