The Russellville Democrat., 1880-03-11
DO AS YOU'RE BID.
BELGRAYIA.

These words were uttered in a tone of splendid scorn; but an unseen auditor round the corner of the piazza only smiled; and yet he was man.
 But, Doll you will have to mind your husnand," responded gentle, drawling, exasperatlng voice.
 Shall F" returned the first speaker. "He has not appeared on the stage vet, Grace. When he does, it seems to me, will be time enough to contemplate submission"
 The gentleman on the piazza smiled again. but he rose quietly and walked away; he did not like to be a listener, however, involuntarily, for he was a gentleman. He did not altogether es- cape that presence, however, by his own absence. He carried with him a vivid as deer; the dark. tender eyes, that could be full of lightning; the proud deli cate, sensitive face; the abundant brown hair, shot with red rays, like ripe chestnut skin. He had studied this DOT trait many days, for he had known Doro- thea Schenck as child, and though for years they had not met, this summer they were together at quiet little tavern in the hills of Vermont, MT. Hor- ton for rest from year of hard work in a city parish, Dora to be with her invalid mother, who could not bear her usual round of Newport and Saratoga.
 Dorothea Schenck was spoiled child. The idea of obedience was as distasteful to her as bit and bridle to wild horse. Her outbreak this morning was excited by some careless gossip of Grace Hamil- ton's-a girl of her own age who had come with them to Addis, partly because Dora coaxed her, partly because it was cheaD, and Grace was not too rich.
 The subject of thelr discourse had been the suffering, publicly paraded, of cer- tain little lady known to this party, who had been very-and, indeed, absurdly- extravagant, and brought her husband to the brink of failure, so near that he had been compelled to accept a sudden and severe retrenchment. Grace's aunt, who was also staying at the Saltash house had blamed Mrs. Blake severely, and Dora had not objected till Grace affirmed that she did not at all sympatize with Mrs. Blake, as her husband had been very open with her in regard to bis busi- ness affairs, and had long since told her she must give up certain habits of lavish expenses, or expect him to fail-a fact which the natural levity and folly of the woman's nature led her to treat in a threat and so the end came.
 And Pm not sorry for her, she ought to have minded him." Grace said. "A woman's natural duty is obedience, she ougt to have known that it is our destiny to yield to our superiors," whlned Miss Hamilton, and this, which seemed to Dora super.ative cant, had brought out her sharp exclamation. She herself was utterly undiciplined, a blind indulgence had set her adrift in life without an idea of duty and she had yet to learn any law but her own will, or any restraint but her own caprices. Poor child, life is the sternest of teachers, even with all the preparations that can be made for it's en- counter, and a merciless pedagogue to the willful and ign ,rant. MT. Horton was bewitched with Dora against his judgment; her fresh piquant grace, her regal beauty, and her very insurgent way of action and speech, captivatedh him he knew with painful clearness that she was as unfit for a minister's wife as woman could be, but he knew also that without her his life would lose it's savor and become routine of the dullest or der, perhaps misery, though conscience warned him not to be so weak as this, while his work yet remained to be done.
 The next day there was to be that re- sort of country boarders in lack of all other amusement, picnic to Glen falls, wild ravine in the heart of the hills, through which a rapid brook tore its way, plunging from one precipice to an other, at no one spot to be seen in full beauty, but reservingits coy surprisas for those who had skill and strength to climb upward to its source-a clear mountain pond that slept amid dark woods fed by hidden springs.
 The day was warm. yet fresh with the wonderful freshness of mountain air, and when the long wagons of Saltash house arrived at the foot of the ravine all the younger members of the party were unanimous in their resolve to climb to Clear pond. while the older ladies and one white-haired bachelor, who cared little for scenery and much for his ease, remained quietly on broad rock by the lower pool, where thick pine boughs shel- tered them from the sun, and the cool odor of dripping water seemed to dis perse whatever heat the July weather threatened.
 Two couple had already gone upward, when Dora and Grace, accompanied by Mir. Horton and Ned Schenck, a cousin Of Doras began to climb. Both gentle man had been sufficiently accustomed to forest paths to make the matter easy as far as they were concerned, but to feet only used to the walks of the city or the smooth turf of the croquet ground, this rough yet slippery ascent looked fearful enough; nor were kid boots the best preparation for sharp rocks and moss strewn with pine needles. It seemed all but impossible for Dora to at tempt such task, but her pride forbid retreat, while Grace, in dispair, suh led herself to be half carried up the steepest pitches by Ned Scheneck, and lifted bodily over stones and logs that she de- clared herself altogether unable to sur mount. Fortunately for her protector she WAS slight, and not tall; he could easily spare all the strength necessary. But Dora will not allow herself to be more than gu ded, though the guidance was leremptory.
 Put your foot here, Miss Schenck, A At.