Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1879-10-02

Just at that moment there was moth
ing in the universe between Vega Lyrs
and me. lay out there among the rock,
at the foot of the shrubs that the wine
was blowing the other way, the sea rust
ling up the single far below in the soft
melancholy summer night.
Summer nights should not be melan.
choly, except as melancholy always fol.
lows on the trail of exceeding beauty in
our sensation, with the effort of the
finite to approach the infinite, perhaps.
But all nights, in effect, and days, too,
were melancholy then to me; the world
was desolation since Stella went to sea.
If she had not gone as she dio, / said
to myself when the first fire fell; but
what was one to expect of young girl
suddenly launched on the luxury Of the
most luxurious seaside life! She was
village maiden, and had not been 80
much admired in the country town,
where redder color and blacker eyes and
thicker hair were more to the rustic
taste. But when / went to Hillside as
the headquarters of my sketching
ground, it seemed to me that fairer hues
and finer lines and more ethereal beauty
l had never found-delicate as some
chiseled statue, color such as that statue
might have if it just began to breathe
and blush, and silky hair soft as child's,
with tendril-)ike rings. In three month";
time the airy, perfect being had promised
to be my wife, whenever the good taste
of patrons should so increase that my
pictures would shelter two, and mean
while we kept the story of our passion
to ourselves-the sweeter secret.
Life sped on that year with rainbowed
wings; the future stretched bright as
dream; the present was pure Joy.
In the second year Stella went to visit
friends at Newport, once the summer
boarders of Hillside, but now the own.
ers of villa all peaks and gables and
veranda, set amidst lawns and fountains
and vases overlooking with flowers, on
the ends of the sea--a palace masquerade
ing as a cottage. A shadow then SEEM
ed to overspread the heavens with its
evil wings, and the gloom of it was
scarcely lifted by letters that came tell
ing of the gay life. One day followed
down behind her, and established my
self-Newport had been one of my old
haunts, and had known how to be hap
by there once. | did not know how tc
be happy there now. 1 had scarcely q
moment of Stella to myself. If | went
to Mrs. Ritteners in the morning, a
throng of beribboned damsels sat on the
wide porches encircling Stella; they
learned song, they practiced new
dance together, and with the groups OF
mil Il u.
of foreign legations, they did little OF
the Boccaccio and Vatican life. In the
afternoon | found the horses at the gate
Breakfasts, je eS chanipetres, matinees dan
santes, bathing, driving, yachting, filled
one day after another, aud Stella was the
Joyous thing round which everything
seemed to circle. 1t was a new life tC
her. She knew it did not belong to her
that il was leaf borrowed from the ex
istence of others; that she must go bacb
to quiet duties and restricted pleasures
1t WAS like reading some delicious 70
nance; she reveled in il now, and gave
no heed to the time when it should come
TO an end.
But II, of course, did not recognize
this. | saw her like butterfly lowering
over orlShl MOWERS, rs uSnt, As purpose
less, as lovely, dancing in the beam
drinking the perfume all Ia toiie, ant
every day of ii msddened me one degre.
more than the last. Early in the morn
ing, from my own window, | could see
her alone on the lawn in her white
gown, strolling to lean over the sea, OF
filling her arms up with flowers; but il
would have been out of the question Il
SO to her then; snd late at night, if | lin
gered till others had departed, | wa,
harrassed by Mrs Rittener, who knew
nothing of any relation between us, ant
who disapproyed of poor artist while
there was such q parti to be had as youns
DE luyster, the wealthiest blqse younl
bachelor of New York; or as the ole
Count Montmorenci, who fascinated bx
the beauties of America, was about t.