The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1877-07-12


it not? 1ere are some flowers which,
on that aeount, are hateful to me but
the iasmin is not one of them. I, too,
love it"-ad here her voice sank little
: -"becausdt reminds me of my mother,
I who used o wear it in her hair-my
pretty. .moter! so long ago, for. | was
mere childEhen she died.'
"And ke it," said Thurston, forget
ting hims6 for a moment, and forget,
ting what manner of woman this was
whose perpusly sweet voice sounded
then so patetic, because it covered one
of the pians of my old home, and its
fragrance blngs back thousand memo
ries of my byhood."
eft has th same kind of association for
both of us that case-and here is a
hedge overrn with it. Cut a few sprays,
Colonel Thrston, and then we will go
back to the ouse."
Back to he house they went accord
ingly, and, when they. re-entered the
drawing-rooa, they found it still unoc-
cupied. :, a,
can put th finishing touches to my
toilet befor the rest appear, and you
shall give ynr opinion Of the effect"
She walkd to a large mirror, and
stood for rinute or two arranging the
flowers in be hair; after which she fast
ened clustr in front of her dress, and
turned.
"Throw oen the window" she said,
"and tell mewhat you think of my ap-
pearance."
Thurston never forgot the picture
which was evealed to him when the
window wal thrown open and level
food of sunaine streamed in, filling the
room with golden mist. Surrounded
by this, as he old painters surrounded
the figure oh saint, Agatha stood dressed
las he knev already in black-light
draperies of iulle and lace, with here and
there an artistic touch of amber, the
golden roseswhich he had cut lying in a
cluster vince the corsage revealed the
white neck, and crowning. the soft masses
of her dark hair.
Involuntsily the self-contained man,
who dislikel and despised her, caught
his breath. 1t was vision of loyeliness
-heightenel by the accidents of time
and place-slch as in all his life he had
never seen hfore. He felt in every fibre
that this woman was more than beautiful,
that she was enchanting; and, forgetting
conventionalty, and all the rules which
govern social intercourse between men
and women, the truth sprang from his
lips:
"sMy Godp he said. 'I can under
| stand now low you have worked such
mischiefw
The intena passion of his tone was not
lost on theiquick ears which listened.
She advanced eagerly toward him, and
paused-so near that he inhaled the fra
GRANGE of the roses which she wore, so
near that he looked straight into the
wonderful depths of her eyes.
"Why should you say that?" she
asked. "AI least I have never worked
mischief to you." .
"To me 2" he began, and stopped
abruptly. No, it was impossible; he
could not mention Bertie's name with
the face which had been Bertie's undoing
gazing into his own. "Pardon me-" he
said, after a minute; "my remark was
altogether unjustifable. I should have
said that your toilet is admirably chosen
and does credit to your TASTE"
"I am glad you like it." she said
changing her tone as entirely as ne had
changed his. "Now, to repay you for
your exertions in my behalf, I will make
you bouquet fer your button-hole.
See! I have kept this bud which you cut
last, and I will make it up with your
favorite jasmine"
Which she did. One or two glossy
dark-green leaves. the delicate golden
rose, and two or three sprays of starry
jasmine these grouped together made
up the tiny bouquet.
"Is it not pretty ?" she said, holding it
out between her slender fingers. "But it
must be tied together, and where shall |
get bit of thread !? All! this will do. !"
She lifted her hand, and from long
dark curl which fell on her shoulder,
drew strand of hair.
~ will excuse you from quoting that
beauty draws us with single hair "
she said, with laugh, as she wound this
about the stems of the flowers, "but you
must understand that it is my own hair
not one bought from a hairdresser-
which I have given you. Here is your
bouquet. Shall 1 pin it in your button
hole?"
who began to comprehend her object
very clearly now. ''She wants to play
the same game with me which she has
already played with Bertie," he thought.
"Let her try-one failure, perhaps, will
teach her lesson"
Despite this penetration, however, he
could not keep his pulses from beating
more quickly when she drew near and
slipped the bouquet into his button-hole
with a dexterity evidently the result Of
long practice. Then she glanced in his
face with smile that made even his cool
head giddy for an instant.
"I hope you don't object to wearing
my colors for one evening?" she said.
Whether or not he would have made
the answer plainly demanded of him is a
question of doubt, for at that moment
Mrs. Jennings entered, and paused
trans6xed with astonishment.
"Agatha, you down!-and Cousin
Philipw
Miss Loring turned, CLINT of triumph
in her laughing eyes, a cadence of tri'
umph in her quiet voice:
eyes, my dear Lucy, I have been down
some time-one's chamber is so warm
these afternoons land I found Colone
Thurston before me. We have been ir
the garden, and, since he kindly assisted
me to gather some roses for my toilet,
have been sharing the spoils with him.
$50 l perceive" said Mrs. Jennings
very significantly.
So others perceived, when the com
pany gathered, and as usual Agatha wen
/ in to dinner on Virien's arm. 1t chancec
that Thurston was seated just opposite
and the creole's eye soon fell on the ROSE
!, in his button-hole.
"There appears to have been some
occult sympathy between Colonel Thurs
ton and yourself in the matter of colo