Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1878-08-15

1 Z<Clud hC1 pan AhOO VIM oAAs h~~N
less of the shower of thefalling buckle
berries that pattered around her like blue
rain. e. -. s.s-...s 4-a- ....
'Huzza," she cried out shrilly-
''huzza! Good bye, old Windledge
Good bye boxes on the ears, and going
to bed without any supper, and, pick
ing huckleberries in the hot sun! Good
bye stepnother!''
And she vanished into the woods like
some hamadryad in faded calico and
streaming hair.
Mr.. Gryce Lockwood returned to
Philadelphia the next day, much to the
surprise of Genevieve Lamb, who had
counted upon her conquest as sure
thing. SsA
"Why doyou leave SO SUDDENLY she
asked.
Because" he answered, looking her
full in the face, 'I'm disenchanted."
"Disenchanted with whatY'
"With the place" was the reply.
Five years has passed away, and Mr..
Lockwood was spending the month of
September in the Holy City-spending
it in very uncomfortable state Of ma
larial fever. His progress through
Italy had come to sudden stop, under
the very shadows of St. Peters; and
there a solitary American lay between
life and death.
doctor, am really betterp
"Betterp' The doctor showed his
spectacles up on his bald bumps on
his forehead and opened his gooseber-
ry colored eyes in protest. "Yon look
me in the face and ask me that ques-
ton in your natural tones, two weeks
after delirium, and then doubt whether
you are better - zre. ga
"And / have been very lll?''
"We have very nice Protestant
cemetery here" answered the doctor,
with comic gravity, "and the chances
have been ninety-nine to a hundred in
favor of your occupying select corner
fit"
But nowP'
''Ah, now! The tables have turned.
With moderate care and no pull backs
you will do well enough now. But let
me tell you, young man, you'd never
have been where you are if it hadn't
been for Mrs. Amethyst and her
niece"
"Mrs. whof"
''Those two American ladies who oc-
cupy the second floor. 1t can't be pos
sible that you don't know them, man?
They have nursed you like a mother
and sister. Without their care you
would have gone by the board long
ago. Hush, here they come now"
And the little doctor sprang up and
opened the door with bow.
'He is better, ladies. He wants to
thank you for himself, but mind, not
too much talking at the present time"
Gryce Lockwood looked up in a sort
of feeble amazement, as tall, lovely
young lady, in floating blue muslin and
little French hat all a futter with
pansies, held out her hand.
Il am so glad you are BETTER" said
she, cordially. "See, auntie, the fever
is all gone. Ihave got you some white
grapes, Mr.. Lockwood, and bottle of
the very oldest port that was swath
ed in cobwebs."
Gryce looked at the translucent
grapes, nesting in leaves and tendrills
and the bottle of ancient blood red
wine. He tried to smile.
.How shall 1 thank you?'' he falter-
ed, "for all you have done for me, a
strangerP'
'Oh, thanks are quite unnecessary
from one American to another, said
Miss Amethyst, brightly. And besides
you are not such a stranger as you
think?''
'Not stranger"
1 owe you six dollars and am pay
ing you back with interest," gravely
went on the girl. "Oh, Mr.. Lockwood,
is it possible that you have forgotten
little Zelda?-and the trout stream
glancing through the trees?-and the
huckleberry bushes at Wyndledge"
care you ZeldaY'
am-Zeldaw with comical imita-
IlOu Vi HIS 6Ouc. Ian away Will Jul
money. found my aunt Amathyst,
who was just pining for some one to
spoil, and she has been experimenting
on me ever since. Isn't it exactly like
a fairy story, Mr. Lockwood? And
when we heard that an American gen
tleman was sick with Roman fever, it |
was the most natural thing in the world
for my aunt and me to come up and
see what we could do tor him. We
would have done it for any stranger,
but for you most of all.''
Gryce Lockwood lay back with clos
ed eyes,.
Il will thank you for all this kind
ness,' said he, 'when 1 am better"
There is no place for lovemaking like
an old Roman palazzo, full ofmildewed
tapestry statuary, with oleander trees
in tubs and great golden orangeshang-
ing in green gloom overhead And
there is no time when a woman's heart
is softened to the spleadings ola man
than when he is pale and feeble from
recent illness.
Mrs. Amethyst lost her neice, and