Bradford opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1874-1881, 1877-08-25
JAN EFT.
\ wONIAN'S STORY.

was ending, the sun saw fit to burst out
from behind pile of jagged black
clouds, and food the little planet below
with crimson glory. The far-spreadine
sea shone like an ocean OF flame, and
all the western windows of the old farm.
house were fecked with the crimson
glory.
Janet Stuart stood looking out at the
radiant western sky, her heart in her
eyes. The red light went shifting in
fiery lances through the thick masses of
her blue-black hair, and flashed back
from her deep, strong eyes. She stood
there looking fixedly out at the lurid
light, her back turned to the pair at the
piano, talking and singing softly in the
April twilight.
One of these was Miss Ingestre their
London guest-a delicate, fairy figure,
not at all like Janet's; a delicate, rose
bloom face looking out at you through a
halo of pure gold hair; the other, Mr..
Etheridge.
Now the pair struck out irto duet
Softly and sweetly came across the room
the delicious Italian song-a song full of
passionate pain. Out of the western sky
slowly faded the crimson sunburst, grayly
crept up the twilight, palely gemmed
with stars.
Darkening !" Janet Stuart thought,
with weary eyes, that never left the
steel.bluc sky. "Darkening- like my
life T.
1t faded entirely ont, the last flush of
the lying day. The stars swung in the
hlu' black concavc, and a pale young
crescent moon sailed serene up to the
zenith. Aud still, while the day faded
and the night came, the twain at the
piano never stirred. Their low laugh
ter, their half-whispered words, their
soft singing came to the listeners ear:
but she never looked at them. She sat
colder and winter than snow, her hands
still folded.
He promised to love me and be
true to me always" her heart kept
saying; "and see how he keeps his
word p
In the dark p called CHEEKY voice,
and old Mr.. Etheridge came in.
He was the owner Of all the broad
acres spread right aud left, and his
nephew, Ernest, was sole heir, for his
wife had died nine months before, and
there were no children.
Janet Stuart was his adopted daughter,
OF course, but she was to marry hand
some Ernest and reign in the fine old
homestead where her happy girlhood
had been spent.
"In the dark, you three young owls!"
called Mr.. Etheridge. "Jennie, lass,
where are you? Leave off billing and
cooling. and ring for the lamp" !
He looked over at the piano, and the
two heads SO close together there sepa.
rated suddenly. A tall, dark figure rose
from the window.
"I'm not billing and cooling, uncle"
Janet rang for the lamp as she spoke
this; and Miss Ingestre futtered off the
piano stool.
"Oh SO it was you, little Eva, and
not Janet. Iwon't have it. 1 want n
wedding in two months; and you mustn't
cut Jennie out"
The red blood mounted guiltily to
Ernest Etheridge's face, but Miss Inges-
tres musical laugh chimed soft
ly through the room. Janet sat by the
table, fixedly pale, her eyes bent on
book; but the printed page danced
before those eyes and Miss Ingestre's
faint, sweet voice, chattcring nonsense,
with her blue eyes fixed on the old
mans face, sounded in her ears like the
rushing roar of waterfall. By-and-bye
some neighbors dropped in, and there
was more singing, and some dancing
md Janet played waltzes and redowas, {
and quadrilles, until the midnight hour &
struck ; and she toiled up to her room,
to) tagged in body and mind even to {
think. G
But she was up early, for all that-up |
with the April birds singing in the f
,-ented trees outside, and down on the
sea-shore, staring with dreamy eyes G
,ver the dancing sea. How bright it a
vas, all sparkling in the glad sunlight, t
With the wind strong and sweet, and the
ishermen singing as they cast their nets, c
md the noisy children, rolling in the
warm sands, filing the air with their
glad shouts. s
"Oh!' she thought, "what happy g
'reatures there are in the world Men e
Who love, and are never false women
Who trust, and are never betrayed. And
to think should have staked on one Il
rowland lost - n