The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1876-05-25

An ITALIAN STORY.

Light, heat, beauty, life-giying south
The artist seeks it ior Its glorious depth'
OF color; the poet for It's classic traditions
aud dreaming influence; the invalid for
it's bslmy breath and reviving warmth
which stir the pulses that in Northern
lands would cease to beat, Lionel Mer.
ton, half poet, half artist, and half invalid
sought II Tor life both of mind and body
and his delicate frame--shattered by the
chill blasts Of the north--wske to q new
being In the soft Ansonian climate, whilst
his artist eye glanced with pleased de-
light over luxurient plains and olive
planted slopes, with here and there q
glimpse Of the yellow Tiber flowing ma
jestically along.
He was just now standing in the door.
way Of the inn, gazing, not at the land
scape or the skies, but at face that had
attracted his attention more than once
since his arrival at -. lie had seen
II first In the beautiful gardens o: the
villa, not far from the inn, peering tbro'
the parted branches OF myrtle, whose
dark glossy leaves seemed TO form fit
ting framework for the living picture be-
hind them. But the branches had closed
hastily, as the girl met the blue eyes OF
Lionel fixed steadfastly upon her.
We must 90 home, Tina, said she to
the child, who was watching the doves
wash themselves in the basin Of the foun-
tain, and she swung 1t up to her should
er, where ii wound its tiny hands in her
dark hair, loosening some of the coils
that fell heavily down below her waist.
A flush camo over the pale olive skin.
Thou arta bad child, Tina she said,
as she hastily twisted up the long tresses
under the folds OF her snow white head
gear.
The large lustrous eyes had but look
ed at Lionel for moment, and yet they
seem to have told him 3 long story that
be had been IN the past trying to deciph-
er.
next hc had seen her in the church,
kneeling in fervent prayer, and had
silently watched the changes Of counte-
nance until again she perceived him,
and with . startled look rose and fed
away.
To-day Teresa stood leaning against y
stone pillar, playing with pink blossom
Of catalpa that stood near hear, when
suddenly she found herself once more
face to face with the English stranger
lie had discovered her name-Teresa;
daughter OF blind Toinaso Cecchi aud his
bcd.ridden wife. She was 8 good daugh-
ter, and worked hard to support her pa
rents. To-day she seemed to be taking
life cssily-drinking in the splendor Of
the purple mIsts and golden sheets Of
sunlight with true Italian Incidence.
Dolce far Hieniei thought Lionel, as
be looked at Abe siatue-like figure, and
the head thrown back, partly with weari-
ness, partly with An intense appreciation
OF the beauty around her.
Bat Teresa's rest was not TO be Of long
duratiou. The Mercanh Of the Campag.
na bad sent fer laborers 10 gather IN the
harvest, and men and women we're form
Ing into bands TO Join In the work. Te-
resa was going, 80 gossip had told
Lionel, and TO him IL seemed sacrilege
that the beautiful maiden should toll and
slave with the common multitude. But
what could he dor And 10 the midst Of
hi. medisaiIons the girl raised her face,
and sgain their eyes met.
Teresa The name burst Involuntary
from his lips.
She started and blashed, but this time
did bot fee away. She looked up At
Lionel.
81, slgnore, abe answered.
That Is : pretty flower, said Lionel
viii you give 1t to mel
She made no reply, bot pat the blossom
lnlo hi. hasd. And % The acquaintance
vas made aaA The i've ehAtted away 10
the sunshine
n.
LIosel bad gone 10 TomAso CecehPs
lodgipg.
Bot your dasghser l. not FtrOnE enough
for sueh work. said be, ia conclusion to
iong harAnges.