Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1877-03-09

"Here she is-and time, I think" says
Harold, his blue eyes flashing with nc
pleasant light, as a laughing party -an
crowded into the empty sleigh. "And
thunder and Mars /! that internal Dan Van
Rensselaer, is at her side. G'lang, Ned!'
savagely. And away they all start, laugh
ing, singing and shouting as only young
people sleigh riding on a fine moonlight
night can laugh and sing and shout.
An hours ride, and then a stop of al
hour or wo at IN old fashioned hotel for
dance (tle sole music for which was furn-
ished by q very old violin) and a supper.
AT the supper an enormou turkey pre-
sided, falked by crisp salads, broiled
quails, and the various pies of the coun-
try but he, the turkey, didn't preside
long, for he was soon reduced to much less
that a skeleton and then the sleighs were
brought from the stable, and the heads OF
the horses turned homeward; and the good
natured landlady and the red haired cham.
bermaid, and Dan Van Rensselaer, and his
: chums had all they could dc in the way OF
searching for articles of wearing apparel
and helping on jackets, a d holding S lawls
and cloaks, and tying wells, for at least ff.
teen minutes.
Hurry up" at length shouts some one
from outside, ''if you want to get to the
city before the moon turns her back on
U.S." and down stairs they go pell-mell.
helter-skelter, and jump and tumble, and
are lifted into the slelghs again.
Harold Brown grasps his own part Gu
lar charge from the group as they reach
the roadside, and carefully seating her in
his sleigh, heaps the heavy robes around
her and springs in himself.
Hundreds OF silvery bells jingle together
I in pleasant discord, acd away they speed
for home one more.
"How lovely she looked tonight p be-
! gins Harold, after a five minutes silence.
You needn't speak, toad. After that
! it is more necessary than ever that you
should be careful. All [ ask Of you is tn
listen. AS a listener you can't be sur
passed, although as a talker, like most
women, you are apt to get things a little
confused. But don't go to sleep, for that
is an insult [ can't and won't stand. Did
you ever see such hair ?-spun gold! And
how charmingly she wears it! part in a
wreath about her pretty head, and part
floating free over her pretty shoulders.
Blondes! There's only one blonde in the
, world, and that's Alberta Lee. Her skin
is like the snow with the moonlight on it
aud being beautiful because she is so fair,
| suppose it wouldn't be fair in me to even
dream Of her turning Brown. Hi, Ned
Good heavens !! the intelligent brute heard
that dreadful attempt at a joke, and tried
to rum away. 5000, old fellow! I won't
do it again. And she never spoke to me,
Cora. And yet when we were boy and
girl together I've stolen many a kiss from
that sweet red mouth unreproved, and she
used to call me My Harold Let me see
that must have been eight years ago.
And then, as she grew older, she grew
more shy ; but l was Harold still, often
dear Harold, until her father, who shows
what an idiot he is, in spite of his years,
by encouraging that greater idiot, Van
Rensselaer,, made that lucky hit in Wall
street, and the whole family went abroad
to learn how to play the aristocrat to hum
BILE friends at home. It's true [ didn't go
near her tonight. Trere were too many
around her. The rose that all are prais-
ing is not the rose for me- And the dance
[ should have liked to have danced with
her, the dance we danced together in the
long ago. she gave to Louis Vance, tie
very nan [ came near knocking down one
evening at her house for taking her pic
ture from her album and putting it liz his
breast pocket, with some silly, spooney re-
mark about his heart. How her mother
glared at me as 1 snatched it from his
hand! and she Said, with a cool drawl
pray Mr.. Blown, what is it to you "
Deuce take her lovely. eXasperatlng, be-
witching impudencel She we'll knew what
it Was to me, the golden haired, lily-white
little hypocrite! l suppose she'll marry
that Van Rensselaer''-and he muttered
something which didn't sound like d bless
ing between his teeth Tor some of his set,
not II of whom is worthy to hold her
fan, the bonnie wee thing as our old
Scotch nurse used to say"-breaking off
with what in a woman we would call a
hysterical laugh. II say, sis, are you
asleep? You needn't Say a word, my but
terfy ; just shake your head"
The worsted things and wells that form
ed the butterfy's cocoon moved slowly and
with difficulty from side to side.
"All right, dear. Ifeel as though I mast
talk Of her tonight, and to whom can !
talk but you, my darling ?-my little sister
who has never withheld her love and SYM
pathy from me, God bless her! But, Cora.
if any poor fellow had loved you all his life
long, and you had LED him to believe for ma
ny years that you returned his affection.
and then, growing richer, as he, through
no fault of his own, grew poorer-if you
turned away from him and smiled upon
those who were only his superiors in wealth
| and position, I'd disown you. Mouse of my
life, [ would indeed!"
"But suppose the poor fellow never told
his love when we met after a long separa-
tion?" whispers the ''mouse of his life"
In words, you mean? Pshaw! there are
a hundred ways in which a man tells his
love, and a woman knows every one of
them by heart"
But SUPPOSE in another faint whis-
per, 'that when she returned from abroad,
she found hitn a man SO much less manly
than the youth she had left that he could
stoop to believe that because he had be-
come poor, as the world goes, she could