The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1879-06-25

| Jul thC nOIAaus NAuCNCE size WIS, re
tanned her position, and Victor though
perhaps it would not be wise for him t.
4; offer any assistance. Again he began t,
reel in the line and again the scream
louder and more painful than before
startled his ear. He dropped the rod
and fastening to where the lady was sit
ting, politely asked her if he could dc
anything for her. She looked up al
him, revealing a bewitching face dap
pied with tears, and between her sobs
told him that she was wading in the
stream when horrible fish-hook
caught in her foot, and that while she
; was trying to get it out it twitched two
or three times, as if there was some
thing pulling at it. Victor became
pale. He knew all, and he asked the
lady to allow him to remove the hook.
With feminine modesty she refused
and Victor contented himself by going
for carriage. When he returned he
found that the fair sufferer was named
Beatrice Beaton and that she was a
boarder at the pension where he him
self was stopping, and that she had ar
rived that morning during his absence
Mile. Beaton recovered rapidly from
rapidly to prevent Victor from becom-
ing well acquainted with her during his
visits of consolation. He became the
attendant of Mile. Beaton and her
mother, a widow, during their walks,
and finally was the sole companion of
Beatrice on almost all occasions. 1t was
not long before he seemed to have fallen
heir to natures greatest and most
troublesome legacy to man.
One pleasant moonlight evening
Beatrice and her mother stood arm-in-
arm at a window as Victor sauntered
towards the house after stroll. Nine.
Beaton's gaze rested on him.
Beatrice, my love-" said she, "you
had better sit on the veranda, where it
is cooler. l am going up stairs for
few minutes"
The two exchanged chances and as
Nine. Beaton moved off in one direction
| Beatrice foated towards two chairs
standing SO close together that they
seemed to have caught some of the low
ing spirit of the happy couple who had
last occupied them. Before Victor had
reached the house the young girl had
concealed the unrOmantic form of one of
the chairs behind her gauzy but ample
skirts and was already become a part of
the scene. As Victor assembled the steps
and his eyes met those of Beatrice a
graceful yet slight movement of her
hand seemed to invite him to seat by
her side. The chair was still close to
her. She did not move it nor did Victor
as he seated himself He noticed the
calm repose with which the moonlight
invested the girls form, save that the
amber beads Of her necklace rose and
fell as lightly as when they were kissed
by the waves of the Baltic Sea and he
became so absorbed that he started when
Beatrice said, eve go to town in few
days"
$50 soon p exclaimed Victor.
eyes" Beatrice replied sadly "yet
like this place so much. Perhaps
perhaps it is because of the pleasant
acq uaintances | have formed here"
Victor sigh ed.
81 think l also will be obliged to
leave" he murmured.
ooh, will you ?" cried Beatrice, eager
ly. "Will you go to town with mamma
and me ?"
ooh, yes; certainly" answered Vic
tor.
"Then that is settled" exclaimed the
young girl as she arose, shook out her
skirts and with them cloud of perfume.
"Let us then 90 down to the brook once
more while it is moonlight"
Arm in arm they walked slowly down
the path that led to the stream. The
touch of that soft hand lying on his arm
and the sweep of the light skirts about
him as the moved gently thrilled Victor,
and he felt that after all women would
average better than men, and that the I
airy, gentle creature at his side, fond of
Irritation as she might be, would need
to be wooed shyly and won almost in
spite of herself
As they reached the creek Beatrice
seated herself on the grassy bank and
Victor reclined lazily beside her. OPP
down, and its reflection in the water
seemed to be a gently swaying bridge of
silver inviting them to pass over it in |
to lovers paradise beyond-albeit it
might be FOOLS paradise.
81 shall never forget this brook
where you caught me as if were a
mermaid, Monsieur Parlenon, said Beat
rice. "You must have thought me sill
ly that day"
Victor raised his hand deprecatingly.
''Ah, confess" continued she didn't
you think me silly?"
Remember my infrmity, madem-
oiselle," answered Victor sadly.
pardon me-" she responded. 81 am
very needless. You are the last one to
whom 1 would give pain she
paused. Then she continued. ''But it
seems as if l had received more light
with few weeks"
"And sweetness, too" added Victor.
"And light and sweetness, according
to the poet, are all that modern soul
needs"
cit seems to me-" murmured Beat
rice, cas- if there was something more
needed"
''And that isl"
"Why, love. Don't you believe in
love, Monsieur Parlenon?"
''Oh, yes; of course. Everybody
does, you know. Are you in love,
mademoiselle ?"
"Yes-why-I don't know. What
do you mean, monsieur ??
Victor made no response, and Beat
rice continued:
"You startled me so when you asked
me that Somehow am not my own
self tonight"
"Whose self are your" asked Victor.
'Some ones else 2"
Her beautiful eyes met his gaze, a
softly murmured Eyes" escaped her
lips and she half put up her mouth for
kiss-the most delicate way in which
a woman can express her love, as Beat
rice well knew.
There was no need of further linger-
ing by the creek, and the pair took their
way to the pension, Beatrice hanging on
Victor's arm In all the glory of full
possession. They parted at the foot of
the stairs with q simple Good night