The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1875-04-09


soft blue eyes; and on the breath of the
summer night is borne, in fresh, ten
der Young voice, the words of the little
song.
The girl eyes know very well that
pair of dark masculine orbs are shining
directly down upon them, striving to
discover by futter of lash or tremor of
lid, some answer to the question those
same brown eyes have asked over and
over, in their dumb, mute language.
But the white lids are quite unmoved,
and the song goes on in the sweet, pure
voice
'''CIochette, CIochette.
You drive me far from you.
Cochette Olochette,
come to say adieu!"
"Wen chosen, Miss Nelly, inter
ruEts the owner of the dark brown eyes,
bending lower as he adds: Z" You have
selected a most appropriate song for
my last evening at Cedar Croft.
You like it, them" answers Nelly
Allen, playing the accompaniment soft
~, and continuing Ia mocking voice,
60 L thought it GOrOpoS one who bears
the title of 'firt, can, [ suppose, read
lily understand the feelings of CO.
quette' as well !"
You confound or transpose the 20
sitions, Miss Nelly" returnd Harry
Rand, warmly. 81 assure you, it is
with the deepest emotion of the fond
youth that [ most sympathize, for I,
too, come to say sdieu /"
"Adieu !"-and there is a pathetic
tone in her echo of the sad word.
Then, with quick toss of the golden
"a oil on
changes the tone instantly and answers
with a laugh:
And you think I really believe you
are going away-you, who have cried
wolf so often that no one needs any
more? regret that can show no APP
propriate grief at the announcement,
but indeed cannot get out tear. |
am not bit sorry, for-you won't go"
Aud with a dash the little white hands
fly over the keys in a wild waltz.
A cloud gathers over the dark eyes,
and the husky voice threatens a storm
as it whispers hoarsely: "You do not
care And is this all you will say to
me, Nelly? Am to go with no other
than those cruel words-you 'are not
sorry p"
ooh, bon Uoyage, and that sort of
thing, of COURSE" laughs Nelly over
her shoulder. rattling on in her waltz
with chaos of harmony which neither
hear nor heed now.
Z" 1t is you who are the most heart
less OF cOqUettes, and l shall go and
try to forget you forever-adieu and
with these words Harry Rand stalks
out of the room, as stately as prince.
The hall door closes with bang and,
as though it were an echo, the last
chords of the waltz end now in a crash,
while in the sha6owy moonlight fair
golden head may be seen pillowed on
the piano desk. ..
What else could I say ?" she sobs
to herself. "Does he expect me to
throw myself into his arms and tell him
that [ love him with all my heart, and
will be his wife, be ore he asks me? If
can't be wooed I won't be won
Stupid fellow, to talk in enigmas and
parallels all summer long Why don't
he say out boldly, Nelly, l love you
will you marry me p instead of looking
unutterable things out of his big, beau
tiful brown eyes, and saying nothing
when the time arrives to part but
'adieu ? Oh, hate him-there !" And
fresh burst of tears showers down on
the white keys.
Very cool and stately indeed Prince
Harry stalks off but there is a smart
ing wound beneath his armor that stings
and pains beyond relief.
"That l should fall in love with so
heartless a coquette y he mutters to
himself as he PAGES up and down the
garden-walk. "She cares no more for
me than she does for the rest of the
foolish moths that fit around the flame
of her sweet smiles and pretty ways
Girls are cruel creatures they play
fast and loose with a mans heart, like a
cat trihing with a mouse Yet, it is
best that [ should go away now-go
where / shall never see her-never hear
her again. ;"
A soft strain of music floats out on
the summer breeze and stealing closer
to the vine-covered window, Harry Rand
stops and listens to another verse of the
song he characterized a short time since
as every appropriate. The voice is
low and tremulOus, and the words half
sobbed
Silent was young ClOchette,
Grieved in her heart was she;
For, though a sad coquette,
None was go dear as he
'Cochette. Closhette,
l go for love of you.
Clochette, ClOehette,'-
She only said adisu -
"Oh oh oh !"-and sob after sob
follow the last words, with the sweet
head again fallen low.
Swifter than arrow from hunters bow
there rushes through the darkness, into
the moonhghted room, a tall, dark
figure and kneeling beside the golden
| fieece-hid, tear-stained face, a voice
whispers passionately:
"Will you forgive my hasty temper
and harsh words, Nellie darling ?-And
will You believe me when say that I
love you with all my heart, and ask you
to be my wife? Let me kiss these tears
| away Look at me, darling, and
answer me truly: You do care for me
little, do you not ?"
The tears are all wiped. away-one by
one; the blue eyes are lifted up to meet
the brown ones; and Nelly answers
after little while, saucy as ever:
"Now that you have asked the ques-
ton, sir, l will answer, Yes. How
could l answer without being ques-
toned, pray? Girls must be wooed to
be won we don't like to do mems work,
II we do pirate about rights.
60 But You acted so cold and careless
OF my wooing. How could l speak
when you only Knocked me ?"
That is our weapon OF warfare-our
tongues, yoG know A lover must per-
sist; a girl is never so nearly won rs
| when she acts as l did. A lover must
be bold; Faint heart, you know, and
all that"
Then the Romans were model
lovers, when they carried off the Sabine
women, I suppose, laughs Harry.
Certainly they were and didn't
| they win model wives For who set
/ tied the difficulties between these two
peoples bat the wives ?-something the
men had never accomplished, and n ver
would have done till doomaday"
"What dear lit e Sabine you would
have been, Nell, says Harry-now, by
way of an attempt at playing Roman,
closely embracing his fancee.
"And what lazy Roman you would
have made stopping, no doubt, in
the melee, to tell the young woman, be-
fore you picked her up to carry her of,
] L -. IL -.