Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1875-06-18


ing at her she raised her left hand and
pointed to an easier path. "She is like
Elesmere's Gretchen" he thought. As he
watched her, she turned to the child 10 re-
ceive its little treasure.
When he had watched the red ball sink
in its glory behind purple hill, from the
very top Of that aged tower, Harry Thorpe
turned to descend. Lischen's form, now
in the broad shadow Of a slope, was still
there. a boyish liehtness filled his heart.
lie ran; he sprang from rock to rock.
Suddenly, a stone on which he alighted
gave way ii tottcred, fell and he with II.
Litchen sprang up. "Ohl take care" she
cried. She came rapidly towards him. lie
laughed and said, at Is nothing" trying
to rise but a spasm of pain shot through
him, and his right foot sank under him
useless.
ais it broken ?" asked Lisa anxiously,
gravely, and with no embarrassment, pass
ing her fine, strong hand over TIE ankle
bones.
"Only a sprain," he answered but he
felt sick and faint, and could say no more.
"Lie STILL" said the girl quietly. "You
will be better soon. "I will fetch you wa
ter"
She went TO make another cup, fastening
1t together better with thorns. While
she was gone, the child came clambering
up, and held out TO him for comfort one of
those garlands of beach leaves which the
country folk make; il was a treasure 10
her; Lisa had made it.
Presently he was well enough TO finish
his descent, with Lischen's arm to help
him.
Englishmen have not the happy self sat
isfaction which enables them to look senii-
mental in such light Affections; they gen.
erally feel that they are looking foolish
and so felt Harry Thorpe.
He was by no means happy TO be hop
ping along the road, though leaning on the
arm ofthe most beautiful girl, TO his mind,
that he had ever seen. 1t was "horrld
bore" aud nuisance" He could not get
back to his hotel, and the Weinwrthschaft
had looked by no means invitingly or even
leanly. He had formed no plan, when
they reacLed old Muller's hut, Lischen's
home.
"Come in, sir" she said. Father Null
Ter has oils and cordials that will do you
good"
''Do you think l may stay here?" he
asked.
"Here? In our poor hut?"
"You see cannot walk" he rejoined,
with depth of cunning. She pondered,
gravely.
"No, you cannot walk and Frau Kaatge
is not too clean. PerLaps-we must ask
the mot her. The beds have just been wash
ed and are new filed with straw"
The cottage door opened, aud Father
Muller came out with Il look of mild sur
prise, enhanced in effect by the erectness Of
his few grey hairs, and the horn spectacles
pushed up upon his forehead. Lischen ex-
| planned and so did Harry, in his best Ger
man, and in the same he proflered his re-
quest. The old man shook his head.
He could say nothing Till the Hausfrau
should come home; but the stranger was
welcome to rest. The kitchen was clean as
German country kitchens ever are, with
| th cir little black pots and pans in which
such good savo ury things are cooked, and
| Lischen moved about in her household
work.
"Will the child never go home p thought
Harry, watching Roschen still on the door
step but the little cart came scroop-scroop-
ing up the hill, and baby was packed in by
Lischen, and drawn home triumphantly by
her brothers. Then came Frau Muller, a
stout, sour faced woman but she, too, re-
membered the beds were fresh washed, aud
she was keen for the money which would
ensue; and thus at last, Harry Thorpe
took up his abode for three weeks in the
Mullers' cottage.
1t was a happy and good time 10 him
and happier still to Lisa. Like her, he was
alone in the world, and he was rich, and
his time vas his own. No irksome duties
called his thoughts away from that still
valley and the simple household, where
his mind, half spoiled and shrunken by
contact with the world, and by that sick
ening adulation which is paid to the rich
| and young, expanded and shot upwards
like healthy tree in the pure atmosphere
of Lisa's presence. All in her was so sim
Pile and pure she was like fresh, clear wa
ter And her mind grew and opened like
a flower under his teaching; all the poetry
inherent in her German nature gained new
life under the touch of culture which he
gave it. When her work was done aud she
could take her knitting, he would pay heI
with poem, or story of other lands, for
a song in her sweet, rich, thrilling voice
A new color and life came into the girls
face a new grace and vivacity into her
movements. II was so fresh, so delicious
to find that anyone cared for her; that her
singing, which had only been used hl.her-
TO TO lull a child TO sleep, could give pleas
ure to some one. And perhaps there was
a deeper feeling still.
But quietly and unconsciously this inner
life went on though the young man had
sometimes asked himself how it would
eud, no definite answer had come, and he
had not sought long for one.
But there came day. when he was seat
ed, with his book, beside the spring. 1t
gushed out of the living rock into stone
trough fringed with ferns. The bank be
hind was gemmed with delicate flower
bells, blue, and purple. and pink, and
white and dropping trees overhung th
nook. Lischen came up with her pitcher
as she had oflen come before. He looked
up, expecting to meet her calm, bright
smile,-perhaps of late little less calm,
little more bright. But now there was on
ly a faint trembling feeling for smile oI
her lips, and her eyes were red. She diC
not speak, and as she lined her pitcher Il
the spring, and Harry Thorpe sprang up t.
help her, he saw that one of those firm
rounded arms was walled with red streaks
He set down the jug, and took her han'