The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1874-06-18
STILL UNMARRIED.


| A glorious September evening ia
Scotland. Tall hills dipt in purple
gloom, and from behind their massive
lines the dazzling light, of sunset.
old,-red amber,-with sharp-out
lines of crimson cloudlet. Far below,
in the narrow valley, pearl'white
tarn, set in ring Of dark fr.trees.
Above the little lake shelving steep
banks, broken, and birch Glad, leading
up to the terrace patchwork of flowers
scarlet, gold, and green, apd to the
velvet lawn all aglow in tho sunshine.
Even the grim walls Of the castle
wore a poetic pallor over the streaky
whitewash of their unsymmetrieal out
line, and the small, unkindly windows
were trans6gured by the diamond blaze
with which they answered the evening
sun. The shadow lay all across the
lawn, by the great lime.trees and
the grand silver fir. To the right, and
| where the light met the shade, bright
line Of color,-blue, red, and buff:
| Shawls and cushions tossed into heaps,
and two pretty women, half reclining
on them, In pale gauzy dresses.
Blanche Eversley, the fairer OF the
two, was one of those women whom
men worship, and women Cthose who
are not JEALOUSY call "darIing."
She gave you the idea of being "lit-
tle'" She had ooaxing ways, and new.
er bored you. She flirted good deal,
and was devoted to Jack, her husband.
She dressed charmingly, but an imita.
tion of her generally provoked a fail
ure; fur the beads, trinkese, blt,7 Of
lace, and agaceries innumerabia that
| she wore, looked tawdry on any other,
while they fitted her provoking, de)-
! icate style Of prettiness and perteo.
ton.
She was given to friendship, and the
object Of to-day was her companion,
Georgiana Filmer, young lady Of some
four years her senior, but whom the ut.
tie matron was ohaperoning at Castle
| Gloom, With the avowed intention of
making . match between her and frank
! Fraser, their host.
| It is impossible to describe C eorgie
| Filmer.
She was beautiful; because whom
| you had been under the influence of
her eyes and voice for day, you said
to yourself, she was beautiful, but you
could not describe her. She had
brown hair that was sometimes fair,
| sometimes dark she was tall and grace
| full; and Frank Fraser was as much in
love with her as heart could wish.
"'Tirra Lirra on the River When
| will these good people come home and
let us have tea 2" said Blanche, pluck
ing the daisies and throwing them
| about idly. II am SO fond Of that
| poem, but I never can make out what
| it means, can you? 2"
"She was bored, poor dear woman
small blame to herewith that everlast.
in spinning; aud then somebody came,
and she. By the by, what did she doe7
I forgot"
$50 do I; only I know it is oil very
sad and pretty"
"The best of all recipes for making
one do evil deeds,-'to be bored.
What terrible moments the author
must have undergone before he could
describe it so we'll, do you recollsct,
in, 'Mariana7' Only he should have
said it was seaside lodging.house,
with horsohalr sofa, and a smell Of
dinner, to make the situation perfect
"Ah ! to be sure," repied Blanche ;
"only I don't know Mariana nev.
or can remember things, at least only
certain ones. 1t is all practice, I he:
lieve. Wonderful how wildly some
little things stick in ones memory" j"
she added, after pause.
| Blanche sighed, and tried to reoo1.
lect something trivial, yet terrible, that
should stick ever in her memory, bu,
for the life of her she could recall moth.
ing but what was perfectly bright and
pleasant, and so only looked pensive
for the sake Of appearances.
! "Don't you think we might ensnare
Sandy into giving us tea out here p
George said, presently; "or would the
Blake's wrath be too great 7"
II don't care if she is angry. Geor'
gle, darling, when you are Mrs. Frank
I trust you will do away with Lady
Blake. I know he hates hsr, and t
my mind she is the greatest nujsanc,
alive, except her daughter. How mic.
it will be, dear, when it is all settled
1 will come and see you every year
and you shall stay with me in London
Just fancy, how delicious! I do wisf
you. would let him say his little speecl
soon, dear. I see him composing it al
day long, and then you shat him u
L