The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1878-12-26

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It seems to me, Will Maunder, that you
are always finding some fault with me,
and"
you've not been used to it. | don't
see any fault in you, Betty" he added,
presently.
ooh, there, there, Will! Do be still
with your incoming! Come in and sing
this new song with me: it needs great
rolling bass" And SO Will would goin
and sing with her, his voice trembling
as he heard hers; would go out and
walk with her, to be left for the next
gallant who sought her side; would be
her abject slave, waiting on her least
wish and every breath, and would get
no thanks for his pains.
It was when affairs we're in this post
ure, Will pursuing, and, with the van
playground of residence in the house,
Betty retreating, yet half relenting, that
Mr.. Valerino, the young exile, came to
Peterborough to give lessons in music
and in his native tongue. Of course
his supposed story fired the Frenebo-
rough heart-the feminine auricle of it
and all the romance of Betty's dreams
rose to meet it. AS for the young exile
himself, he was the very creature of ro-
mance-so tall and pale and dark and
melancholy; his immense dusky eyes
seemed full of the strange, sad memo
ries of wonderful adventure and expert
ence in the Apennines. and on the
Campagna, and among the brigands of
the Romagna, and the light of heroic
days and nights made, as one might say,
a halo round him as he walked.
Certainly, now, it was hardly Mr..
Valerino's fault; he never said he was
an exile; he never said he was patriot !;
he never whispered of conspiracies
among old ruins and in the Catacombs !;
he couldn't help being tall and pale and
melancholy; and there was no reason
why he should mention that his father
had for forty years played the piccolo
in the orchestra of New York theater
If people chose to take him up and
make his way easy for him, it seemed
all right and natural. After he discov-
cred the reason. his lessons being nearly
through, and his vanity too sensitive
for an explanation, he quietly left town
on ending his engagements. But, mean
while, this little Betty Wilmarth was
frightfully beautiful-to a man who
knew she was as much forbidden to him
as though she lived in one of the fixed
stars. It was very pleasant to receive
the admiration of such a being; he had
not the strength of mind to undeceive
her; and Betty went on, making SIM
pleton of herself, studying, and con-
versing of such italian literature as
was terra jncog71itG to the teacher;
asking the youth unanswerable conun-
drums concerning italian history,
which he evaded with what she
deemed delicacy of reticent
modesty; and when she saw the
slender, sinuous shape of the young
exile, and the proud, sad beauty of his
face, beside Will Maunder's burly thews
and sinews, his bluff and commonplace
honesty of countenance, she grew i'm
patient at the contrast, and wondered
at herself to think she had once been
almost on the point of relenting and
being kind to Will. It annoyed her, at
that time, even to look at Will; the
sight of him may have been a reproach
for her folly; his hearty ways offended
her, so much higher breeding there
seemed to be in the insinuating air of
the italian; and then his affection irri-
tated her, for she was on the point of
grand poetic passion for an unhappy
exile whose consolation she was to be.
And thus the man who belonged al
ready to her prosaic, everyday life, and
would have bound her down to 1.-THE
life she had always known, without a
charm of imagination, of the unknown
or the ideal in it-and toward whom she
felt kindness that might possibly grow
kinder, and make her yield one day to
his persistence if he were still here to
continue it-that man was becoming in
tolerable, and she wished him out of
her way. And out of her way she be-
came determined he should go.
She couldn't stroll with Mr.. Valerino
down a lonely lane, talking nonsense
far too high for the youths comprehen-
sion, but there was Will just stepping
over a fence, or lying under tree, or,
very possibly, laughing at her-if he
was not angry. What right had he to
be angry? She couldn't go into the
church on weekday, and take her seat
in a pew alone, to hear Mr.. Valerino
practieing in the organ-loft, and MAX
ing roof and rafters ring and vibrate
with delicious melody, but there was
Will before her, in the porch. ct like
music, too" said Will. She couldn't
pass an evening with a friend, where
Mr.. Valerino was one of the company.
but, as soon as the time for parting
came, the bell rang, and there was Will
to act as escort and spare Mr.. Valerino
the trouble. Once, on such an occasion,
she gave her arm to the exile, and suf-
fered Will to stalk on in silence beside
them, while she talked broken lingo
OF Italian phrases with the young mas
ter, which, for the time being, she felt,
put Will Maunder entirely outside the
pale of civilization. 81 won't be SUPER