Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1879-01-22

waiting on her. l6aSJ WISH ana every
breath, and would get no thanks for his
pains.
"Why isn't it enough for him that
like him as he is?' she would say. "He's
all very we'll as a cousin--a little toe
good as a step-cOusin; but [ should as
soon think OF falling in love with a satyr
He's like the great Newfoundland, al
ways tumbling at your feet" And SO
she would go on, while she looked in the
glass at night and made her toilet for
sleep-the only time the little witch had
for much confidential conversation with
herself-and lightly troubled by the
parting look Of his sad, reproachful
eyes, that would return to her like a
haunting shade Il declare if [ were a
man, | would have some spirit" and
then, very likely, she Logan singing-as
she cOmbed out her long hair, where a
line of sparks followed the comb, and
knowing that Will heard every word
where he sauntered up and down the
garden
''If had lover and wooing would go,
would ! fall on my knees ana entreat OF her;
1 would bend from the saddle and snatch hel
| slim waist. .e .... ..H .t.
And be of to my eyrie i'll gallopng haste.''
"And if you did" Will would mutter
beneath the window, "there'd be the
very deuce to pay!'
1t was when affairs were in this pos
ture, Will pursuing, and with the van
foreground of residence in the house,
Betty retreating, yet half-relenting, that
Mr.. Nalerino, the young exile, came to
Freneboro to give lessons in music
and in his native tongue. Ofcourse, his
supposed story fired the Freneboro
heart-the feminine auricle Of it-and
all the romance Of Betty's dreams rose
to meet it. AS for the young exile hi
self, he was the very creature of 10
nance; so tall and pale, and dark and
melancholy; his immense dusky eyes
seemed full of the strange, sad memo
ries of wonderful adventure and expe-
rience in the Apprentices and on the
Campagna, and among the brigands OF
the Romagna; and the light of heroic
days and nights made, as one might
say, halo round him as he walked.
Certainly. now, it was hardly Mr.. Va
lerino's FAULT; he never said he was an
exile; he never said he was q patriot; he
never whispered Of conspiracies among
old ruins and the catacombs; he couldn't
help being tall, pale and melancholy
and there was no reason why he should
mention that his father had for forty
year played the piccOlo in the orchestra
of a New York theatre. If people chose
to take him up and make his way easy
| for BIN, it seemed all right and natural
After he discovered the reason, his les
sons being nearly through, and his van
| lty too sensitive for an explanation, he
quietly left town on ending his engage
ments. But, meanwhile-this little
BettvWilmarth was frlghtfully beautiful
to man who knew she was as much
forbidden to him as though she lived in
one of the fixed stars, it was very pleas
ant to receive the admiration of such a
being; he had not the strength Of mind
to undeceive her; and Betty went on
making a simpleton ofherself, studying
and conversing of such literature as was
q terra incognita to the teacher; asking
the youth unanswerable conundrums
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 hurley thews
and sinews, his bluff, commonplace
honesty of countenance, she grew i'm
patient at the contrast. and wondered
at herself to think she had once beer
almost on the point ofrelenting and be
ing kind to Will. 1t annoyed her al
that time, even to look at Will; the
sight of him may have been d reprOach
to her folly; his hearty ways offended
her-so much higher breeding there
seemed to be in the insinuating all
of the Italian; and then his affection
lrrltated her, for she was on the point
of grand, poetic passion for an I'M
happy exile, whose consolation she was
TO be. Ana thus the man who be-
longed already to her prosaic, every
day life, and would have bound hel
down to 1.-THE life she had always
known, without charm ofimagination
of the unknown, or the ideal on it, anc
| toward whom she felt a kindness that
might possibly grow kinder, and make
her yield one day to his persistence, i
he were still here to continue it-tha
man was becoming intolerable, and she
wished him out Of her way. And Out
Of her way she determined he should
go.
She couldn't stroll with Mr.. Valerino
down lonely lane, talking nonsense fall
too high for the youths comprehension
but there was Will just stepping over q
fence, or lying under a tree, or very
possibly laughing at her-if he was not
angry. What right had he to be angry
She had never given him any. She
couldn't go into church on a weekday
and take her seat, in a pew alone, tC
hear Mr.. Valerino practicing in the or.
gan-loft, and making roof and rafter ring
and vibrate with delicious melody, bul
there was Will before her, in the porch
81 like music, to-" said Will. She
couldn't pass an evening with friend
where Mr.. Valerino was one of the com
pany but as soon as the time of parting
came, the bell rang, and there was VIII
TO act as an escort and spare Mr.. Valeri
no the trouble. Once, on such an oc
casion, she gave her arm to the exile
and suffered Will to stalk on in silence
beside them, while she talked a broker