Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1876-02-25

BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
Two lovers, once upon time, had plan
ned a little summer-house, in the form of
AN antique temple, which ii was their pur-
pose TO consecrate 10 all manner Of refined
and innocent enjoyments. There they
would hold pleasant intercourse with one
another, and the circle of their familiar
friends; there they would give festivals OF
delicious fruit there they would hear light
some music, intermingled with the strains
of pathos which mako Joy more sweet
there they would read poetry and fiction,
and permit their own minds TO fit away in
day-dreams and romance; there, in short.
for why should we shape out the vague
sunshine of their hopes 7-there all pure
delights were 30 cluster like roses among
the pillars of the edifice, and blossom ever
new and spontaneously. So, one breezy
and cloudless afternoon, Adam Forester
and Lilias Fay set upon ramble over the
wide estate which they were to possess TO-
gether, seeking proper site for their tenn
pie OF Happiness. They were themselves
fair and happy spectacle, fit priest and
priestess for such shrine although, max
ing poetry of the pretty name of Lillas.
Adam Forester was wont TO call her Lily,
because her folm was as fragile, and her
cheek almost as pale.
As they passed, hand In hand, down the
avenue of dropping elms, that led from the
portal Of Lilias Fay's paternal mansion,
they seemed TO glance like winged crea-
lures through the strips of sunshine, aud TO
scatter brightness where tho deep shadows
fell. But, setting forth at the same time
with this youthful pair, there was dismal
figure, wrapped in a black velvet cloak
that might have been made out of coffin
pail, and with sombre hat, such as mourn
ers wear, dropping its broad brim over his
heavy brows. Glancing behind them, tho
lovers well knew who II was that followed,
but wished from their hearts that he had
been elsewhere, as being a companion so
strangely unsuited TO their joyous errand.
1t was a near relative of Lilias Fay, an old
man by the name of Walter Gascoigne,
who had long labored under the burden Of
melancholy spirit, which was sometimes
maddened into absolute insanity, and al
ways had tinge of 1t. What a contrast
between the young pilgrims of bliss and
their unbidden associate! They looked as
II moulded OF Heavens sunshine, and he
Of earth's gloomiest shade; ley fitted
along like Hope and joy, roaming hand in
hand through life while his darksome fig
ure slalked behind, type of all the worul
inlluences.w life could ding upon them.
But the three had not gone far when they
reached spot that pleased The gentle LILY,
and she paused.
"What sweeier place shall we find than
this2" said she. "Why should we seek
farther for the site Of our lempleP ?"
1t was indeed a delightful spot of earth,
though undistinguished by any very prom
inent beauties, being merely a nook in the
shelter of a hill, with the prospect of dis
tant lake In one direction, and OF a church
spire in another. There were vlstas and
pathways, leading onward and onward in
to the green woodlands, and vanishing
| away in the gllmmerlng shade. The tenn
pie, If erected here, would look towards
the west, so that the lovers could shape all
sorts of magnificent dreams out of the pur-
pie, violet, and gold of the sunset sky and
few of their anticipated pleasures were
dearer than this sport of fantasy.
"Yes." said Adam Forester. Eve might