Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1876-02-10


for absence TO receive one. So consld-
er yourself complimentcd.'
'POor Maxi
Poor Max, indeed! Didn't l just
YOU that he's rich as Cresus, whoever
ne was? BY the way, if Pm not her:
early you had better send the letter on
to catch the evening mail-hell be 81
,orry not to receive one tomorrow.
And isn't there anything in particu-
lar that you wish me 10 say in il? Can't
you send some message OF your own?
Let me tell you it's no fool of a job to
write a love letter to man yCu never
saw
On! you always Lit upon the right
things to say. Play that you had
known him always and loved bun
dearly
But just give me a message Of your
own,' pleaded Silvia.
on! well, tell him the last book he
sent me was abS0rbing-Of course 1t
was or he wouldn't have sent it, and
you must know, for l saw you reading
| it; really haven't had time to open 1t
but you needn't add that
.Oh! dear, dear :.
why did you buy it at that price?'
laughed Luna.
Can't you saything-anything aifec-
tionate? How am 10 do all that sort
of thing in cold bIood?'
why, don't sou travel Out OF your
way to say spOony things; write natu-
rally, just as if We were talking togeth-
er, he and l.
How do know what you would
say to him if you were talking togetl-
err -.
How can tell you in cold blood:'
Can't you imagine?'
Il may compromise you; l may De
too gushing or too frigid.'
Never fear. The King can do nc
wrong. There's his last letter; may be
it will give you the clue. 1 declare, il
you make such fuss | shall be sorry
1 ever set you about it.
y am sorry already
The bargains made and the mon
jey's paid murmured Luna, signiti'
cantly, as she closed the door,
Silvia opened his last letter and
sighed. What pleasant one it Was t.
he sure, and how little appreciated
Sweetness wasted on the desert air.
Supposing it were her OWL? Would
ANY one ever write to her like that;
A genuine love letter, meant for nI
eye but his sweethedrt's, yet how des
! ecrated.
The old line said Men We're deceiv
ers ever Had they taught womer
, the craft? Here was she processing
! sentiments she did not feel, to mat
she had never seen. Was not the siu
as much hers as Luna's: Ought she
not to resign her situation, rather, ano
T trust to Providence for another? BuI
there were the twins-two little baby
sisters, with only her to look tO; only
her between them and the poor house
Had she right TO jeopardiZe theil
welfare for scruple, as Luna bad hint
ed? This was not the first time. 80 be-
sure, that she had lent herself to the
fraud; but on each occasion she haO
!. wrestled with herself and had beer
! worsted by necessity. In fact, she hao
/. been trapped into it at the beginning
J Luna had yawned- one day and said
Come, Silvia, dear; Max has been
away a fortnight and havn't writer
f him once. We were never separated
before. | never wrote him a let
ter in my life; but, goodness, how
his letters are accunulatingo tossihg
|, half score on the table, and some
) thing must be done. l hate writing
| was never taught. | learned to fir
and dance and pdr{ey r0lts in boarding
school. | learned small talk-VerA
small falkland crochet; but my hand
writing is all pothooks and skewers
Max would never speak TO me again i
lhe once caught hG of it; l know ht
An1 nd nc fn
can't say boot TO goose on paper!
haven't any head for it. And his let
tiers are real poems. DO dash off some
thing, that's love. Let me see, wha
you would say, supposing you had
lover like MaX-Which would be al
impossibility, ofeourse. But there art
his letters. Read them
And so, in froiic vain, Silvia dash
ed off a love letter in the merriest MOOD
to unknown Max, with just enough
love in fiavoring and coquetry, JUS
lenough to tantaliZe and make a mans
month water for more, and signed i
your devoted Moonshine,' in travestN
, of LuDa's name.
'Splendid!' cried Luna, reading i
over Silyia's shoulder. W hat practice
you must have had
II Il never wro:e love letter in my
Iife.' said Silvia.
/ why, what are you going to do?
asked Luna, preciritately, arrestiue
J the hall-aried sheet that Silvia Wavo(
: in the air.
: Tear it UP, of course
Never! lis work of art. LIE
me read it again, myself, before yUl
: make way with it,
: But Silvia, fred with Indignation la
; ter, when she learned that my lady
2 Luna had dispatched the letter to Maj
: AS her own.
t on! how could you? How coulC
you:' cried Silvia.
I 1T was Just the easiest and neates
thing N the world. He had left mt
5 an envelope all directed Ia himself, fl
fear | should forget. And he gives IN
no end of credit ior my brilliant talent
calls me SevignP, who YER she iha!
be. Ha! hal
Haven't you any conscience, Luna.
My dear, you rave enough for II
: both
But every little while since theI
q Silvia's conscience, as well a. her com
mon sense, had taken alarm; but all tn
5 same, the letters were written, aGi
4 Max delighted. She used 10 lie aWak,
: nights trying 10 devise scheme for y
r tracing Luna and herself FROM the sil
uaiiou; and, after all, the only oil
: which she could haven't was thai wlicl
? Luna scorned and would none Of.
: After Luna had taken herself off +
! the promenade Silvia dipped her rer
into the gold and ebony ink-stand an'
0 wrote freely, as if she were~ indeej
D holding sweet CONVERSE with a iainil!
t ar affinity. 1t was something, at least
e TO be able to utter the thoughts ths
e surge d in her s0ul, 10 EXPIRE 5 hersel
5 under this mask. 1t was. an oppoftu
+. nifty for compahiOnship from whic'
she was in ii manner cut off in all o;he
Z Idire,.finus. Thn Opinions and fancis