The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1876-02-14
[Wrltsen for the star.l
v 10 L Z r s..
BY DARD BEST

As a writer of stories I find myself
buzzing about like literary bee and
digging at any romantic or dramatic
honey that may be stored away in Life's
great hive Of experience. Some lives
have several memory-cells full Of sweet.
ness to the story-writer, while Others
have but one great episode that can be
4 woven with its warp and woof upon the
| loom Of romance.
| The years preceding or following the
one bright point In Violet Fields life ]
shall have very little to do with, since
they lack the dramatic interest neces.
sary to even mediocre story. Pass by
the baby age of down and lacey curtain
folds, of nursery squabbles, and Of
4 school days, Of early orphanage, and, at
last, OF debut In the high social circles
of Gotham, a reputed heiress, and q
beauty-a Though she never had real
claim to the latter qualification, being
only bright, nice-teatured rnaidenAafd
Il come to- Miss Violet FieIps nineteenth
lyear.
In the year of which I write lire had
grown to be quite burden to the young
lady In questions; and the emptiest
j dream, toid in mournfulest Numbers,
was all she could dig out of the never
ending Problem. she almost wished it
would end and she could forget certain
!, day in October-a day that had led her
Ito the highest pinnacle Of hope and
FLASHED her to the lowest ebb Of despair,
all In the space OF it's twelve short In
ldian-summer hours.
II q a avo \, u,hnln n, nyy a
Iago; yet a pair of indiferent-looking
Thrown eyes still haunted' her, and apair
lof wide, brawny shoulders loomed up in
the zenith of her thoughts; and even
Though she was at this moment ON her
Iway to the Hon. Mrs. Torrensham's
country villa, with visions Of rides and
: drives and picnics and boatings in.
J, Vulnerable, ready to come at any call OF
her fancy, she still pObdered over the
sudden disappearance OF the owner Of
the pair Of indifterent-looking brown
leyes on q certain evening. i'll October
last. - ..a4 ,l..
/ Twenty miles yet to Willoughby, Miss
Fields destination, SO she closes her
! dreamy gray eyes and wooes Morpheus.
He came stealthily, and, after bobbing
her head for her in an extremely undig-
nified manner and causing her to- slip
almost off or her seat, vanished before
the voice Of Miss FIELDS French maid,
who is gently poking her mistress on the
shoulder and calling "Ma'am'sefie |!
Weelobee is widoutlv
! "Without what? Oh, / see;" and the
1.-TWO, mistress and maid, hurry out into
a cold dreary mist, that is much more
discomforting than even a heavy rain
fall. No carriage awaits the guest, and
as there is no depot at Willou ghby, un-
less the long plank platform can claim
that dignitied appellation; there is no
one upon whom they can call for assist
ance. so up the darkling, unfamiliar
street they march, cold, hungfy and
friendless, A big lantern at last looms
out from somewhere overhead like a
yellow ghost and discovers the entrance
Of an inn. Glad of any shelter, the TWO
belated ones lift the huge knocker,
whose pfassy summons fetcnes o biooin-
ing bar-mald to the rescue. In another
hali-houf1 N arie has tucked her mistress
| in under flaming'sSe SUM- quilt;
and, finding O lounge near at hand,
prefers stretching her dimtnutiye length
| upon the chrntz cover of SAID lounge, to
occupying a room across the carpetless
passage.
The next day is clear and fine; and
| Vi0let's first peep out OF The big, old
| fashioned windows shows quiet little
green weeds and grasses growing. def
antly upon each side of The crooked
curbstones, while afiock OF geese, in In
dian file, seem the only inhabitants
abroad. The French maid calls Miss
Fiefd' s. attention from the verdant gut
Jers TO the stateeof her travelling dress,
which aftieEeo apparel, being Of that
exasperatingY m)haira quality, has
snrunken knee-nigh since; last nighPs
march through the drizzle.
t.Vat 'eesS Sto@be done, sTt 'Uots plat,
Mees?p
go and borrow something from the
landladyi Marie; explain the matter TO
her and l am sure she will lend me sOmei
| thing unth the trunks are forwarded"
| and Violet coolly Turns to counting the
geese again.
AT 10 O'Clock, that day her adventure
begins in good earnest. She stands at
The gate of an old-;ashi0ned garden fad-
joining the inn, looking up ana down the
| street in a sort of dreamy reyerfe, and
weaving. the great shadowy, arehing
elms overhead into her vision ol another
time and place. The laudladY's dress, q
clean, though fady, calico wrapper,
makes a feiHt at tttng after the belt OF
a white apron has caught the folds
snugly about the trim waist, and the
big "sundown" she has on hides from
her view the approach OF the one great
lady OF the town, her intended hostess,
Mrs. Torrensham.
"Girl, do you want placeT This In
quity starrlgs her from her day-dream
and makes her aware, for the first time,
OF the august presence OF Mrs. Torren-
sham.
When Mrs. Torrensham drives, as she
is driving to-uay, with Jerry in front
and James behind, all Willoughby holds
IT'S insignificant breath, from the black
smiths shep upon Goose Common to the
very outskirts Of civilization ON the OPP
posIte boundaries OF the village. To say
that Mrs. Torrensham does not enjoy
the Aabject looks OF deep reverence on ali
faces turned like flowers to the sun of
her heraldie blazoned carriage, is to say
an untruth; it is upon this homage she
thriyes, and wakes more hearty and tom
tent with her lot the more cringeing and
slavish her village devotees become.
She is ruling .powergin this little COM
munity; SO, wnen she sees buxom, look,
ing girl leaning with nothing-to-do air
over the inn gate, she teeis sure that a
certain department. in her nearly per-
feet household shall be filed nstanter.
"What kind of a place, madam, il you |