West Virginia argus. [volume] (Kingwood, W. Va.) 1877-1946, 1879-11-08
One Summers Harvest.

sinking sun--a girl standing at the
farmhouse gate, bathed in that SUMS diving
glory; the deep blue eyes, fringed by their
jetty lahhes, eager and eXpectant, the red
lips curving in glad happy smile, rs her
ear catches the far off echo OF well known
step; and one reads again the old, old story
which seems so new to every heart that
learns its pages.
Yet Ethel Mayne was not one to wear
her heart upon her sleeve; but neither had
Ernest Melwood lived his thirty years i'm
vain A month before, fortified by a let
ter of introduction to the squire, one of his
fathers college friends, who, since the
death OF his young wife, had buried himself
In this country life, he had come among
hem to regain strength, to recover from a
severe fever, whose victim he had we'll
nigh become.
He had been received by Mr.. Mayne
with courteous hospitality, but when his
daughter was formally presented, when
first his eyes dwelt upon the wonderful
beauty, which had sprung into such perfec-
tion far from the city's din, all thoughts OF
SVs1ui and country dullness fled.
So the days went on, scarce noted by the
man Of the world, watching this new yet
old development of girls heart 10 her,
passing with the swiftness of thought, In
listening to the melody of one voice, and
drinking in the dangerous sweetness of his
smiles.
All the old story indeed
Why should he not pluck this little vo-
let, which had shed its rich perfume at
his feet, as well as the priceless exotic
which, when the leaves had turned to
brown, he was to Gull for his own2
So subtle sweetness crept into his tone
his dark eyes grew strangely soft, as draw
ing near, he clasped the tiny hand laid 80
Oonfidingly in his own, and looked into the
azure-tinted eyes upraised to his.
''Were you waiting for me Ethel7"
"Ah, Ernest, the days are long without
youl"
what will you do when have gone2'
'Gone!" And the color died out Of
cheek and lips, leaving an ashv paleness az
she said, with faint smile, "You are play
ing with me Ernest. You would not
leave met"
Business compels it darling; but shall
carry your sweet beauty with me, where
ever | may GO"
"But you are coming back? You are
not going for longl"
II trust not.
And for moment the girls peerless
glance TO the naughty summons received
that day from his betrothed.
Had he known this girl beside him was
the owner OF as many thousands as the
heiress whose hand he considered essential
10 the furthering Of his other schemes. the
summer harvest would have born different
fruit.
In no measured words had he asked
Ethel Mayne 20 be his wife: but i'm her
young trusting innocence, when from her
lips he had snatched their first sweetness,
while her ears caught his vows Of love, i'm
She singular fascination Of his presence and
the keen subtlety Of his words, she had no
other thought, and she now looked i'm his
face with a wondering hesitancy, while
hand OF iron seemed clutching at her
heart.
you trust not What do YOU mean.
Enestf' and there was naughty ring in
the tone new % the mans ear-new TO her
self, but born Of her suffering care you
going back TO forget me2 II 80 can bear
t."
Forget you, darlingl Forget the little
violet whose wItching sweetness has lent
my summer all its charm2 No, no. Trust
me, little one / will Of course come back
Let me see the color in your cheek again
-" NV hieho Hiy kDlik hMutfY ny lInb $40
face ON our last evening. You will write
10 me2"
eyes; your letters are all have TO live
upon--all the promise ! shall know Of the
future. Ernest, / fear that gay world to
which you return; but why should / fear.
and you % brave, 80 true?n
Fear nothing darling, and, believe me,
whatever comes, there is naught on earth
have ever loved 80 well
And, for once in his false life the man
spoke the truths
Three months sped by--months which to
Ethel hayne had seemed years The
promised letters had been strangely cold.
breathing nothing Of that promise 10 return
ill expectancy died away. and when with
strange prescience Of future il she in
her womau's pride sent no reply there
came one more tender, more pressing, she
detected the false ring In It's pages, and was
silent
But her country life seemed dull and
aimless, and the squire aoting her pale