The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1878-05-30

nizing his own handwriting. "Ah!'
he sighed, "I remember the day gave
that to Dolly, more than a year ago
yes, for it was at Christmas-time, and
now it is February. slipped it into
her hand as she passed through the
hall, at the Damois breakfast, with that
detestable Eustace Hurd. l saw hel
blush quickly before she took it. How
well she knew had something for her!
l believe Dolly and could make each
other understand anything without a
word or whisper. "A word to the wise,
they say, is sufficient look is enough,
to the loving. And what eyes she has!
Well. must forget them; must learn
to forget them. But not to-night-not
tonight, Dolly"
He took up the card and mechanical
ly turned it over. IN. b." and few
lines of handwriting. He paused at
IN. b. "Her writing, and my initials,
as she names me-Ned, Ned Berton. 1t
must be for me. She knows that am
here. What else, then, could the card
my CARBIDE here for? N. BIO
any other eyes, and in case of accident,
simply mota bene; but to me!-ah, will
note sUell, my angel! N. B.'-Ask
mamma tonight. and if she says no,
ask papa; and if he says no. make him
say yes. Tonight, without delay.
February TO-
February, tenth'-that's to-mOr-
row. ASK mamma Oh, Dolly, can you
mean it? Your command is law; but
Mrs. Dewent will say no. That is fore
gone conclusion, since l have no pros
pects-no immediate prospects at least
and here's Eustace Hurd worth half
million. There's no hope for me
there. Then ask papa; and if he says
no, make him say yes Can l make
him? What shall l say to make him?
What arguments can bring to bear
upon this intelligent, kindly, but
thorough man of the world in this
age of high living. when sentiment rates
at so little and money rates at so much,
to show myself, a young lawyer with
an income of barely three thousand
a year, a Just rival, in a claim for the
hand of Dolly Derwent, of Eustace
Hurd, worth half million? What ar
guments can 1 use? Or, in default of
argument, how shall l express myself
to reach his heart?-for l suppose that
under all his jovial worldliness he has a
heart. Let me think"
And he thought. Alone there in
Dolly's room, with the light lowered to
a spark, sitting in the armchair, with
his head leaning upon his hand and his
eyes downcast, he thought. The wind
that had arisen with sunset died down;
its wild sobbing across the hills and in
the tree-tops ceased; rain fell, then a
sharp, fine sleet beat against the win
dow-panes; that too ceased. The little
porcelain clock upon the mantel struck
half-past four, and still Ned Berton
thought. At last dim daylight glim-
mered on the walls, and then, wearied
to the soul, he flung himself upon the
sofa and fell asleep.
Some one awoke him late. He was
the last one at the breakfast table, and
the sleighs-eight dashing little cut
tiers, with 'just room for two''-were
at the door. The eighth had been
procured with some difficulty; but this
Ned BertOn was not to know: polite
ness would not inform him that he
was the odd one of the party, the sew
enteenth, who had not been provided
for, having been invited by Mr.. Der
went on the supposition that "of
course Ned was included''-a suppo-
sition which Mr.. ID. learned emphati-
cally, afterward, had not been founded
upon fact.
Mrs. Derwent, however, not to be re-
miss as hostess, made the best of an
embarrassing blunder, and in spite of
her plan that only the young people,
seven couples, should enjoy the sleigh
ing, and in spite of her antipathy to
that diversion, and her uncomfortable
fear of horses, which even the sober
grays of her Park phaeton could not
render calm, heroically ordered the cut
ter.
She came and rested her plump lit
tie jeweled hand with matronly ease
upon Ned's shoulder, as at the now de-
serted breakfast-table he bent over his
plate in distracted mood, trying to
swallow his hot roll and coffee, and
said, genially, $50 Ned, l am to go
with you. But only on one condition
that you will promise not to run away
with me-"
Ned withdrew himself from his soul
preoccupation just sufficiently to jerk
down last mouthful and to say, with
rather confused gallantry, 81 cannot
promise for myself, Mrs. Derwent; but
/ will promise that no unappreciative
animal, no 'untamed fiery steed,' shall
run away with you.''
"Then come" said she gayly, .'for
they are all going or gone. Why,
Ned, you have eaten nothing. Won't
you have another cup of coffee? No?
Well, we shall lunch sumptuously at
the Blue Globe;' they have been two
weeks preparing for us. That will be
dejeuner for you. Where is Dolly?'
All, Dolly! There she stood on the
doorstep by the side of Eustacc Hurd,
wrapped tight in her fur cloak, ready
for departure. and her sweet, warm
face-not hooded deeply enought to
hide its golden halO-turned wistfully
backward. ''Good-by, mamma" she
cried; and then she saw Ned, and the
sweet face changed-turned pale for the
instant, Ned thought, if such a thing
could happen that rose bud should
turn pale. She gave him just a look,
SCdlCCly q xXO AVAu AlO AV0lU .
wild beating answer her appealing
look.
Such a morning as that morning was!
one of those miracles of mornings
when the white mantle of the snow
makes the world like newborn plan
ct; when Nature shows herself in all
her artistic renderings a sculptor moro
than q painter, exclaiming, for the mo-
ment, like the passionate angel of the
palette, "Form is everything; the out
line is the picture. The sleet had
polished the snow, and the scene was
not only nodded against the horizon in
bold and chiselled contour, but every
detail of foreground, every stone and
fence and leafless bush, and every aisle
of perspective, every farmhouse and
grove and over-branching forest, was
as if cut in crystal or in marble, decis.
i've and pure and delicately hewn in
matchless marvel of curve and tracery
A white new world.
To Ned Berton, with one thought in
heart and brain and imagination, this
wealth of beauty was as naught. An6