The Red Cloud chief., 1876-05-25

assurance OF his devotion WIN Dght
banter; his dark eyes look into hers. as
she is sure they can never have looked
twice to a woman. In short, Bessie.
almost unconsciously 10 herself. is in
love, and with a man. Of all men. she
never intended to do anything but hate.
When he came to Bromley his reputa-
ton as a l~ady-killer am with him, and
Bessie, when all her girl friends We're in
raptures about his manners, his eyes,
his figure, determined she should dis
like him, and let him see there was n
girl who could resist him. At the same
time she was herself the belle Of the
place, and il would be a great triumph
if she could attach him 10 her string Of
beauX, and so she laid her snares, and
Notwithstanding she could not make
him pay any Of those attentions men
generally pay To women, he yet seemed
to have walked into them, and Bessie
was waiting until his captive state
| should become obvious, and then she
would snub him.
Poor Bessie. she had been playing
with edged tools, and she began to
think if he really loved her, il would be
very cruel Of her TO trample Oh his love
after having worked very ingeniously
to obtain it. After all. would it not be
better to try and love him i'll return?
Bessie was debating this as he sat by
her side, and almost made up her mind
| that when he told her his love plainly,
| she would be very kind TO him, and al
low him to hope that, in time. she might
return it.
Poor John Bronte had taken his seat
opposite to the one usurped by Percy.
and could see the latter's lover-like man
ner, almostiSuess the things he said so
tenderly in lier ear, and, worse than all.
he had to see the evident happiness of
Bessie in receiving them. He had often
seen her coquetting with others. but
never had he seen her listen so quietly,
with such a sweet, tender look in her
eyes, as now.
Poor little bird. she is caught AT last"
he sighed to himself, for he knew there
was suffering in store for her, as for SO
many others that Percy Stone had
known.
After the dinner was over and the
party were all wandering off in couples,
Percy decorated Bessie's hair with the
harebells John had gathered, and Bessie,
laughing merrily. ran to the brook to
look at herself, and then came back, and
Percy was evidently asking something
very earnestly, which she appeared to
grant, for she took the rOsebuds she was
wearing in her bosom, and gave them to
him.
They were alone now, or thought they
were, and did not see John lying in the
grass, a miserable spectator of the little
scene.
Percy's hand closed Oh Bessie's as she
gave him the buds, which he pressed to
his lips, and murmured as if to himself,
but loud enough for her to hear.
MY darling"
But, nevertheless, as they walked, he
took the direction of the rest of the
company, who were laughing and frol-
licking gaily among the trees.
"Oh, he has gone far enough. the ras-
cal, and thinks it would be convenient
to have bystanders now-poor little Bes-
sic, my dear little girl, and l have loved
her SO long"
John pressed his forehead on the cool
grass, and passed a very bitter hour
struggling to conquer his emotion, and
be master of himself; but it was not
easy; he had loved Bessie ever since she
vas a child, and as long as she seemed
to care for no n in particular, he had
never been without hope; but, now, it
was gone, and worse than all, she was
giving her love to a man who would
cast it aside as a worthless thing when
eve it suited his pleasure. Poor, poor
Bessie!
The carriages that had brought the
party, had been left at an inn, at the
other side Of the little river, at the foot
of the hill. and returning home. the party
kept together until they came to the
river, when Bessie proposed Walking to
the mill, and crossing there; it was a
prettier road, and somewhat nearer.
Most of them, however, preferred going
the way they had come, and 50 Bessie
and Percy separated from the rest.
agreeing to meet at the inn. They
Sauntered on under the Overarching
trees, following the rapid little river
until they came to the mill.
"Let us stay a minute; l love to watch
the wheel SO much; see how it draws
everything to it," Bessie said. throwing
insome wild flowers she had in her hand.
1T is like life" she continued. a little
sentimentally. I'VE begin Our journey
very slowly, at first. but gradually the
pace grows rapid and more rapid, until
We are rushing along to death"
"The mill being death. and we being
represented by the flowers, Ell"
"Yes."
VERY pretty and poetical."
well, write me a pretty poem for my
album"
Il am no poet. not even a poetaSter.
unless appreciation of a living poem
makes me one He looked into her
eyes as he spoke, and Bessie knew she