Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1877-05-05

seen one handsome young fellow monopo-
lie her attention and walk home with her.
The fact actually made me morose.
One night managed to sit beside her at
a singing school. The cold night air had
given a soft, warm blush to her face / had
thought that liked her pallor better than
any color, but the color made her brilliant.
Two or three dropping leaves of geranium
were in the braids of her hair That per-
fume ever after brought her to my mind
more vividly than anything else could do.
| seemed gifted with power to move and
act my natural self, and | allowed no one
else to approach her that night. AS we
walked home beneath the glinting light of
the stars, | noticed that she had become
almost silent. Did my presence oppress
and bore her? 1t was too cruel to believe
81 hope am not defrauding Harlowe Of
any right you have given him, by thus TAX
ing possession of you" said, at last.
She looked up; her eyes smiled.
II l had given him a right, you could
not defraud him of it," she said.
"Then it is not his presence that you re-
gret," l said, feeling my soul in my eyes as
spoke. "You are lonely, homcsick, per-
haps, for the warm land of your birth. Do
you find cold hearts in this cold cline Of
ours y
"The hearts are warm, l believe, Mr..
Lyons; but sometimes it seems as though
were transported into some frozen region,
some place where there is nothing akin to
me, and | shiver with undelinable fear.
That is foolish, know"
, We had reached the gate where | must
leave her. | retained the hand in close
clasp.
ooh, do not say there is nothing akin to
you here. That leaves me in the land OF
strangers; / cannot bear that.
The earnestness with which | spoke call
ed color to her cheeks that had so lately
paled.
"Recall that sentence" / pleaded.
"Do you really wish it?" she asked.
Yes; it is exile for me-"
She withdrew her hand from mine, but
she spoke softly:
al fecall it."
/ knew that ought to go, but still l lin
gered.
"Mrs Thaxton said that you were going
to M. tomorrow. May | take you in my
cutter?"
How feared lest she should refuse that
simple request! But she did not, and
walked home elated with the prospect of a
prolonged tete-a-tete with her.
Aren't you going to work this after.
noonY' my mother asked, as came down
in my best clothes instead of my working
suit
"I am going to carry Miss Grace over tc
NJ" said.
! / feared some dampening remark II
came.
"Miss Grace is very kind to the young
men"
{" Is she?'
"Have you heard whether that report
about her having a. lover in Boston was tru,
or notY" she asked.
"No, | have not"
! went out, shutting the door with vio
lence. Now half wished / was not going
to ride with Miss Grace, l felt sufficient bit
terness to make me wretched all the after.
noon. Banishing with an effort the gloom
from myface, / greeted Miss Grace in my
usual manner, only somewhat more con.
strained. But the quiet geniality, the
sweet grace Of her appearance charmed
away my reserve. For these few hours, al
least, ! would be happy.
The air had been growing colder and
colder---the srow creaked under the sleigh
but after an hours sitting by the warm
fireside of our friends in M, and an addi.
tion of extra wraps, we started home with
no fear of cold.
A gray vapor was rising in the west, and
gradually overspreading. the sky; biting
wind from the northeast swept over the
road, cold and merciless. 1t was only fol
my companion feared; for myself, l wat
familiar with the fierce cold Of our winters