The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1872-1881, 1876-06-16
II would if ] only knew the exact

myself by conhdinp in one so soon 10
realize his dearest hope"
Really, Burt, you are unreasona-
bic; IL you would just relate the cir
cumstance, VIC might together, dcscry
a remedy. What is the names'
"Miss Osburne," said the now yield-
ing Burt.
"Osburnel Osburnel II strikes me
I've heard the name, but presume !
have read il in some novel, as il is
rather romantic one. Aud you loved
herr"
ayes. hopelcssly."
"Ah. she was probably first water
coquette.'
mot at ALL" snapped Burt, oddly
enough for him.
"Why, then, didn't you marry herr
because ! only caught glimpse
of her."
"Then il was case Of love at first
sight"
Exactly, aud very aggravating
one."
"Did you procure an introduction
"No."
"Why not?'
IL saw her a few moments before
the close of an evening entertainment
given by Madam Is school, at
NJ, and called the next morning
with that object, but found the prin'
cipal had started on summer tour,
the assistant teachers and all the pu-
pills having returned to their homes.
There was no one in the house but the
servants, who could give no informa-
ton of the young lady's destination"
"And you have never seen her
since?"
Eyes, once. Last summer, while
going down the Mississippi, We met u
north.bound boat. The passengers Of
both boats we're out, and I noticed my
ideal among those of the other; she
stood leaning over the railing, her sa'
Die robes well contrasting with the
creamy face; she looked beautiful
there was something bewitcbing in her
beauty. and, acting upon the impulse
Of the moment, | waved my handker
chief"
"And she responded"
NO"
"And why not, do you suppose"
"Because she was too noble to par
ticipate in a handkerchief Irritation,
which my signal certainly seemed to
indicate.
"And them"
"And then, you aggravating Mark,
she turned and walked away, evident.
ly disgusted.'
"Don't be savage, Burt. But, to
give you my candid opinion, ! think
you are a fool to dream of this will-o'-
the wisp."
"a fool l certainly am, to sit here
answering your questions like a child
in shorter catechism, and then receive
your verdict by way of coincidence"
"Well, / really am sorry for you,
but as l know Of no remedy, unless,
indeed, | make over to you my own
affianced, who is probably Miss Os-
burne's only equal, and which have
no idea of doing, you might as well
dispel the dream and seek another
BRIDE
Not l, young impudence! And as
for bestowing your bride upon me,
you had better wait until she il solic.
ited."
"Well, he that rs it may, you will
60 home with me and attend my we'd
ding, and do your share to help tie,
securely, the knot that brings me new
er-ending happiness"
"Yes, l will go. How soon do you
START"
About the middle of May"
Every well, I'll he ready. BY the
way, is your affianced well and hap
py!'
"Yes, thank you. And now let us
have one game of euchre." And the
two friends spent II pleasant evening
together, and parted, the one with
bright anticipations of rosy future,
the other to brood over the old trou-
Bile awakened by his recital.
"Ah, vell,' he thought, IL am glad
there are some in the world who are
happy. ! might have boen, but fate
ordained il otherwise. Well, | should
bear all stoically, and defy the old
weaver to do her very best"
But Burton Wilcox looked any
thing but defiant as lie sat alone in the
moonlight, two hours after, dreaming
over his lost idol.
CHAPTER M.