The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1876-11-03
,ernate opals, dear as diadems.
BLANCHE WALES LOVE.
BY LULIE LARZELERE.


IIsrobed angel, floating slowly around
he full. fair moon. Below me, clear,
,ure river tinkled like fairy bells. My
ept were pressing brighter carpet than
,yer graced queens chamber; a carpet
Ill starred with weeping wild hoWers.
Rnt what mattered it to me that summer
,ight? / looked, but saw not; though
the earth was more beautiful then than
sver bride on her wedding-night. One
bv one. picked to pieces bouquet OF
fsded flowers l held, and watched the
fragments as the ripping waters bore
them away. lifted a curl of brown
hair from the folds Of a silken paper, ana
sent it out to search for them on lts
tourney seaward. l took a tiny per-
iumed handkerchief from my POCKET,
and rubbed out the last Vestlge OF a
daguerreotype, then bound the
Use close in the dainty muslin, and
rast it amid the waves to trlghten tlmid
fishes in their crystal abode.
had pone out to burial that moonlit,
Inne nipht, The corpse sWas my hrst
love, and these were its tokens. All
,,,intor long [ had cherished it; 1T had
crown brighter with the unfolding OF
ssnrnp. but that day there had come to
it a deathblow.
" For six months Charlie Wayne had
+onght our village school. He was just
tai, enough to be handsome-Witn
Srank omen countenance, and laughing
ovns2with clustering brown hair, and
smile that took our hearts by storm.
was only fifteen that winter; yet pe1ore
ali the village bellies had he chosen me
for companion; but he had gone away
ot the close of his second term, only
kiss1ng his gloved hand in farewell, ana
saving l should hear from MN. Ana so
| did. There was the Worolh my hanu'
a gilt-edged, periumed note, ana Weu,
Iing card. He was to be married in
Week to the reigning belle OF c., to
whom he had been engaged upward OF
YEAR, and ne could not enjoy his own
yyvnIding if his little tavorite ( y was
not nresent. 1t was only fifty miles, be
said and he would meet me at the de-
pot. o,oia tor +ho
sixth time that evening. -.
IT had been two hours since the post
hov mad handed me the letter. held
it up in the quivefing moonlight, smiled
| a bitter withering smile, tore IL OIL In
shreds. and tossed them over into the
yllttering stream. Ihe moon mao
climbed to the heart of heaven. l knew
if must be near midnight, and l was nal
a mile from home. NO mater. MY
mother supposed me safely tucked up IL
he'd so sue would not be uneasy. My
temnles throbbed wildly; my eyes
hnrned like Goals of fire; my lips were
narched and bloodless, and my cheeks
blanched out white.
So. he had never loved mel Why, then
had he taken my hand in his, and spokel
| in a low, gentle tone, so akin, III its pas
sionate earnestness, to the tones ha'
} dreamed of in hours when l was no
sleeping? Why had he praised the dar
beauty OF my eyes, and said, over an
aver. he should not know how to liv
:, without my presence? Was all this onl
complimentary? Was he only amusln
himself, because there were no lashlor
Worshipers to pay court tof Dld he car
! if my heart dld break! Wouto ne car
if l should die!
Well. | wouldn't crafty his vanit
i that far, anyway; and L rose up res'
: lutelv. and trod to and fro on the hoWe
= fringed rlver-bank, living the old, brigh
ldream over for the last, last time. Ever
gentle word, every tender look, was res
v nrrected. and sorroWed over, and Ell
: tom mbed-even the dainty, parting WaV
ot his hand: and there J. sat me dow
and went, long and bitterly-wept 8
:. those weep who have not tears to she
7 avery day-wept all the tears had
u shed over a shattered idol; and thel
with a low-uttered, 'lt was only clay
y no wonder it would not bear trial."
y rose up.
is The burial was ended. The moon ha
l. wandered almost to the tree-tops, anu
knew that it was near morning.
y whole night spent IN Worshlplng at u
ID shrine OF an unworthy imagel l curle
ir nv lip at the thought. But, then, l r.
1t membered that others had KneLt III
time at just such an altar; others old
than in wears and ways Of the world
~ YEA. and they had died still kneelin
- the struggle was bitter but short; tt
II. victory was won, and rose up and we
- forth stronger that had suffered.
IS "Maybe you'll deign to bestow a wo
Il of kindness on me once in while, nc
)" that Charlie Wayne's goneW
m And big Abram Ware broke in up'
NV solitude among the branch willow
le and cast his broad straw hat best
at him.
i'd Abram Ware was tall, well-forme
p country-bred, farmers son, pufdeh
lg with a kind of faWkWardness that beto
ened want of self-possession, or want
Il lsplr.coutidence, or something. 1t w
w nnhecoming; but had not known he
is much SO, until saw him beside the e
,if gapt. ever-at home Charlie Wayne.
as had loved me ever since had VIC
" checked pina1ores and went barefoot
summers, and l knew it; but had
We prations good deal higher than
IL rhimneys Of his fathers little far
es house: and for two or three years p'
y I had treated him with kind OF C
et unconcern. Perhaps it had been
VI hanced since Charlie Wayne came
our village; but hardly knew it, ev
IL after he mad spoken the halI-distrust
ar words, aud smiled the hall-hopetul, ht
ne sorrowlul smile.
os. "Pve always intended to treat
M well, Pm sure, Abram," l answered.
m "Have you? Well, perhaps you na'
but one does feel kind OF bad to In
les that he's got to be just nobody at all,
of the estimation OF the only, person
i've would care to please"
OF 81 am sure you please me very WI
led Abram."
in II wish / did. s'pose Charlie'll WI
10 youW
, II had letter from him."
on "Had you? Well, l only hope If
a ever takes you away to the Guy, h
urs turn out just as perfect as he looks,