Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1878-05-18


though he pays for it afterwards in sundry
cups of cold tea and scornful saitfs admins
tered to him on principle and for his own
good. The Alhe girls are not desirable &C
qual itahceS any girl who C Juld bring herself
TO do ahat t.h'pbe AShe Is doing cannot be
very good. M recover PhG ,s is loo pretty to
be good in the eyes of the Misses Main var
lnSs Ihey ooJ@ct-alsJ on priucip e-tO round
cheeks OF peach-like b On. to brown eve,
with long curled laShes to dimple in the chin.
and, above all, to rings of soft dark hair stray
IKE vagrdn' or "a gypsy, in that old ~trawnat
and scanty holland gown. 1t is not Pnpbe's
fauit tina she Is 100 pretty t. pass unobSeryed,
Misses Mainwaring She is just like her sis
ter Laurie-Lauiie, whose ''ipSs hair aud eyes
OF speedwell blue had turned half the heads
with any man who will tiirt with her. So the
Misses Mainwaring remark over their five
O'CLOCK oicnSs tea, and SO they pull poor PhGbe to
meager fingers, if that butterfly could by any
means enter into competition with them selves.
Phoebe is bliSsfully unconscious of their re-
marks, however, or biSSfully regardless OF
them them She goes to church in her faded blue
batiSte-whlch looks worse than ever beside
Matte mauve silk-and sits or stands in her
place.sn the AshbroOk pew with as composed
and even naughty an air as ever Her enemies
remark that She grows more EXCEPTIONALLY
pretty every day, and there certainly is a new
happy, curve about her lips which make her
gypsy beauty quite remarkable.
If that girl were only we'll dressed and in
good society, she might do anything, old Mrs.
La lOuche says: but she has three very plain
neceS staying with her, and is very glad that
IhPbe VIII have no chance OF appearing in
society" There is nobody to take Phpbe
out even II she could afford the process. The
AsheS have no near relatives but the Hernes
OF Herne Court, and they think it is quite
enough TO patronize one of the family, Not
happy in present that is perilou>iy sweet to
pine Tor any future of even such delights as
Laurie describes And so July merges into
August, and August into September, and
Farmer Warren'S pupil remains on at Haw-
thorne, learning such things as he may.
CHAPTER ".
1he summer is over and the harvest is gath
cred in before Phoebe wakens from her dream.
one evening she is going home through the
heids, When she meets John PenroSe with his
gun under his arm, and, contrary to his Gus
tom tom he turns and walks with her up the path.
1t IS fair September evening; the pines be-
nina Ashprook have caught fire from the sun
set with deep red burning glow, the clouds
overhead are tinged with the same ruddy light,
and on Phnbe's face il falls so reddy that even
John PenrOSe cannot tell if there is more color
in her cheeks than usual while they walk to-
gether by the hawthorn hedge.
II am going away to morrow he tells her
with a side look into her face But Phoebe is
equal 10 the occasion.
Are you indeed:n she asks quietly.
''ieS. And shall be obliged 80 drink Lethe,
as the spirits used to do when they left Para
disc, lest they should be unable to endure life
below
II think you are laughing" the girl says re-
Sentfully.
Il am not aughing-I am in desperate earn
est. Don't you think | shall be sorry to go
away?''
Il am sure do not know
You ought to know, and / think you do
know very well: have been happy here-hap-
pier than L have ever been Ill my life be-
fore"
Phoebe signs. Has she not been happy too
happierthan she viii ever be az lin? He would
not say SO mach as that.
will you ever think of me when l am
gomez
1t is cruel question. The girls eyes are
full OF tears, but she will not let him see them
out of the hedge and when she has possessed
herself of it here ale no tears in her eyes
You haven't answered me- he says stop
ping at the site and holding out his hand
We'll, l suppose l had no right 10 ask such
question. But | shall often think of you and
he pleasant days have spent a, Hawthorne
Fal III. You wont qui forget me, will yOu?'
1t asks, forgetting what he had acknowledged
a moment before.
She gives him her hand to wish him goodbye
rs usual. but he compeS her unwilling eyes TO
meet his gaze, and then, though he is going
away, they know-if they have never known
It betore-Ihat they are lovers. But he takes
no advantage of the knowledge. He bids her
good night as quietly as ever, and stands at
he tile watching her till she turns ~ TO ward
he house out of sight. Then, with a very tr
lmphant smile in his gray eyes, he walks SOW
III.
Phoebe is not triumphant. Her dream Is
..yer-the gates of her Paradise is closed upon
her-the Paradise she has been wandering In
now. What fool she has been to dream sucn
/ dream as this. She loves him, pain farmer
IS he is, and poor too, jud ging from his dress
loves him as she once dreamed She sho lid
owe that fairy prince who was to com for her
y and by. But she does not think of her
prince DOw-She thinks of nothing out that she
owes this man, and that he is going ava. Sac
IL NJ fl-llt, IT no
asked her to accompany him, perhaps she
would have done SO, though she had always de,
clared that she has had enough of poverty ali
her life without marrying poor man. BIT
she has never thought OF marrying John Pen
rose. She knew he cared for her Il litte-knew
it long ag0G,,but she never knew that she cared
away. She spends the night in passion Of
bitter weeping-fOr what she hardly knows,
except that some great sweetness has gone out
In the morning she goes to the mill as usual,
but she goes slowly, and with a heavy heart.
All the sunshine has gone out OF her life. She
does not know how she will endure the long
day at the mill. the dust and the noise and the
worrying accounts, and then Martha's COM
planning In the evening, and the same thing
nver again tomorrow. Bat she does endure
he human heart.
And she has other troubles to contend with
troubles connected with the mill. The men
grumble about their wages, and one or two
!taye entirely, and others threaten to leave if
their demands are not complied with. They
are receiving more than the usual pay for such
wOIk already land Phoebe feels that If she does
not make a stand now, there will be no end to
heir requirements. But it is miserable work
Complaints are brought to her all day long
one man will not work, anO her is leaving his
department in disorder and going into another,
or another takes holiday unexpectedly and
puts them all into confusion thereby. Phoebe
is heart brOk en-, and feels tempted more than
once 10 throw The whole thing up, and close
the mill But she gueSSeS who has spread this
spirit of dissatisfaction among the men. Tom
townsend is very bitter against her because
she would not consider his proposal of taking
much On the profits-a better bargain for him
than for her, as Phoebe is not too much OF a
Chid to perceive. But She is afraid thai she
will be conquered i'm the end. William Town
send is Sir Aymerald Ashes steward, and all
the wUrkmcn about the place stand in awe of
lin. The party against her are too strong, and
added to this is the disapprObatlOn of her own
friends. But Phoebe is very determined when
she knows that She has right upon her side,
and she will certainly not give in till The last
minute.
She suffers good deal at this time, but the
real trouble helps her to bear the unreal one,
ii such heart ii OubleS are indeed unreal. She
never repr0acbes John PenrOSe, even in her
thoughts. He had never said a word of real
love to her, and, If he had let her see, without
care for him, was it his fault? Could he help
showing that he was fond of her any more than
she could help showing that she cared for him?
She SuppOseS she showed it, and she often
wishes she had not done that. The poor child
is more angry with herself than with this