Litchfield enquirer., 1875-12-30

come to an understanding I could not see her face. but her sheeny blue dress and her golden hair caught every fash and glimpaer from the rooms beyond. Philips face was raised and 50 tTrnsd Chat II c6uld see it we'll. and was awed by the trans fgnration.
 ..You must be tired, ; he said, in tone that gave the simple phrase the sound and meaning of the lovingest words. Then he put mp his hand and touched her hair.
 Do you like 1.-the color?" said she. He smiled, but his lips trembled, and he passed his hands lingeringly, reverently, over the fair shining lengths in silence.
 The conservatory was cool, and Philip went away for Alice's shawl wished she had gone with him, but, as she had not, waited no longer, but drew a match against the column and held it to one of the candles; it caught quickly, and | glanced down. Alice had not moved; lost in her happy reveries, she seemed not to have heard me, but the nswly-Iit pale ray fell upon another face-Margaref's She was standing by one of the slender col umns. few paces behind Alice, in the rosy dusk of the oleanders. A rich man. tie. given that morning by her father, rest ed on her shoulders and fell below her knees. She was still as sculpture, her noble, graceful arms hung down before her, the hands strenuously clasped. Her face. scarcely paler than usual, shone, seeming lifted in some high light, as of a star shining within the deep eyes pene- trating every feature with an. astral fair ness. This look in my darling girls face, even more than my conviction that she had seen, as had, the revelation in Phil ip's, struck me to the heart, and in my az itation dropped the still burning match.
 In an instant Alice's towering dress was a wild fare of fame., She sprang to her feet, stretching her pretty cEimpled hands above her head, with piteous shrieks. l could not move or speak. tried, as we do in the thrall. of horrible dreams. and as vainly. The guests came crowding to the doors, but stopped there appalled,. AL ready the long scarlet drapery of the col umn had foated into the rising flame.
 'sMake wayl for Gods sake, make way therei" came hoarsely in Philips voice.
 But quicker even than he, quick with the lightning swift thought of her love aroused soul, Margaret flashed out from the oleanders; w1th her mantle ontspread in her hands, she thrust her own uncover ed arms into the flames, wrapping Alice from head to foot close and sure. Then came Johns voice behind me, and the sound of the fausets in the conservatory being turned. and his arm catching me back from my own imminent peril, and jets of water gushing over the burning drapery and scorching plants. Then, crowd around Philip, holding his saved darling in his arms. pouring out such wild words passionate thanksgiving as told to them all the story of his love; and something lying moti0nless on the floor with flame crisped garments, scared arms. a white camelia gleaming stiff in the half-burned tangle of dark hair;--a figure against which Philips foot struck, unloading, as he car ried Alice past Then a cry, ,rending from the depths of a mans heart, when John saw Margaret where she lay. Weeping like child. James Chudleigh lifted and laid her tenderly in Johns arms and eoy- cred her tenderiy from prying eyes, before John carried her through the gay parlors between the rows of awe-stricken guests, ut, VI: her -prvety festNi-iookiu< room. fts
 It was some days afterwards, when had darkened the room and drawn close tho curtains of Margaret's bed, that went out and led Philip in. She put out the hand that was unharmed. and, finding Philips gently drew him down.
 70, Margaret, Margaretw he said ,husk- fly, "I have been so afraid you would die."
 ''I sent for you, Philip; they told me how you were worrying; wanted to set you at rest myself, and to tell you how glad and grateful am for Alice's safety. They tell me her burns are very slight, and that her face and her beautiful hair almost entirely escaped"
 "Yes. O Margaret, it is wonderful, how you could be so thoughtful, so quick and so brave. But for you she must have and to think it nearly cost your precious life!" After pause. "And do you know, dear, what you did for me-that Alice and r.
 ''Yes-yes, Philip. I know, and, ,"-very softly-'I thank God for itr'
 "We shall never, never forget it," Phil ip cried.
 Margaret answered all his anxious in- quiries, assuring him she was quite out of danger, that she did not now suffer much and that the doctor thought her face would not be. permanently disfgured. When Philip said Guide me to you, Margaret, and let me kiss you." she was silent.
 l knew what the poor, scOrched lips, that would have welcomed the pain of his caress, would not suffer him to know, At last. she raised to his lips the hand he held.
 'T have fancy, Philip, you will not l would rather wait to be kiss sd, till I'm we'll again."
 Then I think the truth came to him. for he gave great start, and then very cheer. fully, but with trembling in his voice, he begged her not to talk, and, kissing her hand again and again, got up and went softly out. When he was gone ahd came back to her bedside, 1 felt 1t trern. bling and heard suppressed sobs,
 For weeks my darling lay in her dark cned room. knew she suffered much. though she never directly complained. The burns healed rapidly, for she had been in glorious health, and the soft. dark hair began tc grow again, but her strength returned slowly. Philip and Alice hung lbont her door, anxious and fnll of loving iesire to serve, but she would not suffer hem to see her, till she should look quite ike herself again. sH
 Her father, Mir. ChudIeigh and I, one )r all of us. were with her through this lme. The two former quarrelled with ,ach other in their devotion, and. one day Margaret told them with her sweet laugh; T saw them grip each other in their de- fight at the familiar sound, d,-that she mould be puzzled between two such Iov srs to know which was he father.
 70 Margaret you must let me paint you as you are now," was Philips excla- nation, on coming in, one afternoon. 'ome weeks after Margarets seclusion was ,ver. It was one of those soft. ,odorous lays April sometimes steals from June. md Margaret was leaning back in a tow Indian chair by the window. sat 4
 Gould anything be more lovely than hat delicate nimbus of shadowy curls p
 Don't rhapsodize r l. said, and so 'harply, Philips brows went up. could lot help it, was in continual nervous Igtation for Margaret's sake. I wanted lothiDg so much as that he and Alice hould be gone about their happy busi- less: knew that Margaret loved him, md that, though she were unselfshness tself, she must suffer in thousand ways rom his presence and from the si0ht of