The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1877-05-05
A PANE OF BLUE GLASS.

could hardly be called observation, he be-
came aware that change had taken place
in an old house which for years he had
passed twice day without ever particu-
larry noticing it.
1t was large, rather shabby house, set
in walled garden, but with a narrow ga
bic end abutting directly on to the street.
In this gable end were two windows-one
above, small, with lattice; one below,
larger, with an ordinary sash divided into
six panes The three lower panes of this
sash had been removed, and in their stead
large oblong of dark blue glass inserted.
This was the change which had attracted
Gordon's eye with that inevitable certainty
which belongs to all change, even in an in
different or unobserved object.
The blue glass theory was still in its era
die at that time. No hint of it had crept
into the newspapers, and the azure pane in
the old sash was puzzling enough to make
Gordon pause and stare. On the other side
was something which he could not make
out-a shimmering, glinting something,
which swayed little, like a shining flower
bending from it's stalk. Was it flower?
He gazed and wondered, and, almost I'M
consciously, had drawn nearer, till his eyes
were within foot of the glass, when sud
denly the sash was raised, and the mystic
rious object revealed itself as a girls head
fair, penSive, and framed in a loosely
hanging cloud of light brown hair Her
cheeks flushed a little as their eyes met,
and she inquired, in a sweet, surprised
voice, :" Did you want any thing, siro"
Gordon Gray, in his own opinion at least,
was man of the world, but he felt him.
self turn scarlet as he stammered OUT
Excuse me. IL had no intention of
being so impairment 1t was the oddness
of the blue glass. | could not see that any
one was inside. Pray excuse me-" his
brown eyes secondng the appeal with bet
ter eloquence than his confused speech was
capable of.
The young lady smiled little, in dim,
shy way, as of one who had forgotten the
trick of smiling, and answered: "Cer-
tainly. don't wonder you were surprised.
The blue glass does look very odd" Then
she raised her hand, as if about to draw
the sash down again.
Gone moment cried Gordon, whose
presence of mind rarely failed him long
Zone moment. Would you mind telling
me if this glass is used for scientific ex-
pertinent, Or"
"a medical experiment, believe" was
the answer. "My uncle read some where
that it was a good thing for delicate peo-
pie to sit in sunshine filtered through blue
glass. So he had this pane inserted, and
wishes me to try the experiment.
"Was it you, then, who was sitting in
side? | thought it a rose tree, or some
Towering plant or other"
"No, it was |, with another shy smile
Il hope the experiment may prove a sue
cess raising his hat.
Thank you Then the sash was pulled
down, gently but decidedly, and Gordon
resumed his walk.
COMPOUNDED asst was his mental com
have thought me a regular Peeping Tom
What pretty little thing she is. How did
it happen that l never heard of her be-
fore? Such blue eyes are not seen every
day Let me see. Who does own that
house, l wonder l never thought to in
quire.'
But inquiry brought little satisfaction.
Mr.. Lang lived in the house-always had
lived there. Did anybody know him .
Bless you, no. He was a queer old chap,
full of theories, always trying experiments,
and coming to grief with them. Blew his
roof off once with Illuminating powder, and
all but burned down. summer before last
testing new system of lightning rods.
Never went out any where, except to the
ost-oflice, and never asked any one inside
his door. Had he family: No. Lived
all alone with an old servant, or-stay, did
somebody say that a niece or cousin came
to live with him in the autumn? Proba-
bly, mistake, or if not, she must be some
cracked creature like himself, who never
| showed outdoors. Had Mr.. Gray noticed
the blue pane in that end Window Droll.
wasn't ito Just like old Lang and his
crotchets.
With such scanty statements Gordon was
| forced to satisfy himself No one seemed
to know more than this of Mr.. Lang and
no further glimpse of the pretty face which
had once blessed his eyes. Only the nebu
lous shadow behind the blue pane told of
| her existence, and toward this shadow Cor
don raised his hat punctilously every after
noon. A slight answering movement was
sometimes visible, which he chose to inter
pref as return to his salutation; that was
all: bow, a shadow, a vibration-thin fab
ric for fancy to weave webs of, uncertain
aim for the fairy arrows of the tabled god :;
| but enough, for the unseen is sometimes
more potent than the seen, and once low
er's imagination sets to work, it finds ma
terial in lightest token and least palpable
substance.
| Gordon, for all the worldlness on which
he prided himself, was young still, and mod
est, and it took more than a month of these
passings and repassings before he gained
courage for the holder step of laying a rose
on the sill of the closed window. There it
lay in the morning, dewy and fresh, as he
went by. Returning at night, he glanced
across the street, and felt heart beat; the
rose was gone Did the glorified shadow
within vibrate little more distinctly than
usual9 Gordon dared to hope so.
Another morning, and another-more
roses. On the fourth day, grown bolder
Gordon ventured on bouquet-a bouquet
all violets, save for one great Marechal
! Neil in the center. On the fifth day he
took a desperate step, and, armed with
another bunch of violets, crossed the street.
and tapped ever so gently on the blue glass
pane.
The window opened, and the sweet face
appeared, a deepened flush on the cheeks