The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1877-07-19

| chalgeu, anu he pfeIeffcs Drunettes TO
blondes now" answered Rhoda, smil-
ing TO herself silly, as she recalled ROb's
words, and contrasted them with Phil's
manners the night before.
"No, not that altogether know he
don't admire dark women. mean the
whole character seems TO have changed.
He Is isreseryed-nOt a. pleasant or agree
able as he used 10 be-critical and sa-
tirical; and Rob says he is growing
into a sort Of woman hater, declares he
will never marry, because he can never
love one of the women of to-day So
don't fall in love with him, Rhoda."
"Won't marry because he couldn't
love one Of the women of today !
suppose any one of them stands ready
to fall into his arms at his asking! You
needn't warn me, auntie, | dislike the
man." was Rhoda's sharp retort.
"Well, I'm sure Phil is nice enough
fellow, but | never should want to
marry him, said Maud. ''I'm like you,
RhOda; couldn't stand pair of red
whiskers and mustache close to my
lips :" and Maud shuddered very much
as RhOda had done few days before.
"Mr. Farnham's whiskers are not
really-red. Do you think so, Maud
! should call them more of a blonde
brown replied Rhoda, not noticing
the sly glances Maud exchanged with
her mother at this sudden change of
opinion in one who had cOlored the red
whiskers and moustache herself not ten
days ago.
"Farnham's an odd fellow" eX-
claimed Rob, who had come into the
room just as RhOda had pronounced Mr..
Farnham' whiskers brown. "I've been
trying to get him enthusiastic over our
masquerade, and he won't even say he
will stay until the night of the ball.
He's tired Of the beach. Now, RhOda,
if you were only blonde, you might
have smitten him with your charms
and through you | might have persua-
ded him to remain. don't know, how
ever, that | wish he liked you, for"
"For what?' interrupted Rhoda,
quickly.
"Oh, you'd never suit one another,
that's all. But needn't bother myself.
He doesn't admire squaws, and you hate
red whiskerS; so there isn't the least
danger Of your fancying one another"
"Well, Miss Merton is here. She's a
pale-faced blonde, I'm sure. Can't you
persuade Mr.. Farnham to stay through
her, pray"
"No; he's tired of the beach and
everybody here, he says. So | suppose
he will GO"
But Mr.. Farnham did stay to the
masquerade, Notwithstanding it was
postponed week later than at first de-
signed, and much beyond his proposed |
time of departure. In that time, too,
he paid such marked attention to little,
dark Miss Brent, that large, pale Miss
Eerton was shocked at the perversity |
of mems tastes and everybody quite
astonished at the turn affairs had taken.
Everybody, at least, but Rob Sher-
wood and his mother.
The ball was a success. Phil Farm
ham looked really very well in his cos
tune. which he copied as accurately
after SOuthern's as he could, and with
his "blOnde brown" whiskers, quite
the cnt, and few alterations in his ex-
preston with paint and pencil, he made
a very presentable "Dundreary." The
usual number of steoreOtyped flower
girls, queens, knights and peasants
crowded the floor; but the prettiest
dancer in the room was one little In
dian. "AIinnehahan she called herself.
The costume was pretty and unique.
Decked off with a profusiOn of bright
beads and feathers, gaily Ornamented
moccasin slippers, and the long, heavy
plaits of black hair hanging far below
the owners waist, altogether it was
if not an entirely accurate
study of an Indian girl.
81 think | recognize these, sweet
II" whispered ''DundrearY,"
taking up one Of the braids as he spoke,
and drawing the little brown hand
through his arm for promenade.
''DO not be too sure" said the mai
den in low tone. "As you pale faces
are wont to call all dark maidens
"squaws" | should think it would be a
difficult matter to pick out one individu-
ally in this assembly"
"If this one little Indian were less
charming and agreeable in her manner
toward me, might inGividualize still
closer, perhaps, and whisper her true
name, only the lady whose eyes shine
behind that mask hates ''red whiskers,"
and would never trouble herself to talk
to a stupid Dundreary! :"
"Did Robert Sherwood tell you that?"
The mask was torn offnow, and stepping
out Of the crowded room into the wide
piazza, Rhoda Brent's flashing eyes
looked up into Philip Farnhams face
demanding an answer.
coincidence for confidence. Did Rob
ert Sherwood tell you called all dark
women 'squaws?"
Then they both laughed in each
others eyes, and the moon shone down
brightly upon them, the sea softly muir
INJURED to them; and the summer night
stars twinkled merrily over their heads.
The affair" was settled amicably be-
tween them there; and when, an hour
later, Rob Sherwood stepped out into