Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1880-09-30
LANCASTER. WISCONSIN. THURSDAY SEPTEMBER 80. 1880.

reads to US. He reads well, bat whe,
he talks he is prosy, think, and 40
gravates me all the time with BIZ
we'll pondered words and slowly
twisting hands. Maude thinks hin
perfect. Mrs. Weaver fairly gloatl
over the deep books he hands me
taking them as marks of attention.
but ], | always feel small and un
comfortable with him. He seems t.
consider me so insignificant, and dis,
sects my wild words in such prosa
ic way. Their, too, the fact of my
being governsss always seems such
a joke to him. / cannot be dignified
in his presence. do ridicule unmer.
cifully, in my letters to Allie and Is.
abel, his trick of twisting his hands,
and his slow speech, and his solemn
ways but | cannot say cutting things
to him, as / wish. His eyes are 50
calm and sensible, and rest upon me
always so thoughtfully. Allie was
quite disappointed when she found
there was no brother, or cousin or
son, or nephew'-but became recon
ciled when she found there was a
neighbor.
'Yes, one of the loveliest women l
have ever met / heard Mr.. Murray
say, and | know Immediately he is
speaking of Isabel. l am sure |
agree with him; and yet, somehow,
| grow hot and angry, and say, Yes,
lovely! A sort of Undine. 1t is well
she has beauty, for she has nothing
else ! The next minute / can bite
my tongue out--for l know that Isa.
bells soul is as lovely as her face.
q don't think you mean exactly
what you say, Mr.. Murray says,
gravely. have known Miss Isabel
for some time, and she appears to me
as good as she is beautiful.
Maude's soft eyes turn on me SO
wonderlngly in the moonlight, that
feel mad impulse to jump down in
to the foaming water and run home
to Mrs. Weaver's. restrain this i'm.
pulse, however.
Mr.. Murray is gazing up at the
moon now, slowly twisting his hands.
ANY one who has a good heart may
safely trust to impulse =
He is quoting my own words. He
does not add, Have you a good
hearth but l add it to myself; and
the answer hear within me, is NO!
wicked, jealous, mean, evil heart !!
Then they 60 on with their talk
laying plans for grand picnic they
wish to give before they leave the
Cove. | wonder whether Mrs. Wea-
yer will wish to retain my services
after she returns to the city. AL
though | need the money sorely, l
hope not. | do not feel the happi>
ness that honest labor is said to i'm
part. | feel more as if / am sham
manipulating at school, as Allie
and used to do as children. / feel
miserable. l want TO get back to
Allie. With this, the tears stir in
my eyes.
wont it be nice p Maude asks
suddenly, giving every hand an ener-
getic squeeze. My hand lies unre.
sponsive in hers.
'For those who attend, i say.
coldly.
why, yor are coming. surely
-Haude exclaims, ne couldn't have
our picnic without you. Oh | Lotto,
don't be stubborn. Albert is going
to bring all his pictures, and statutes,
and lovely things from the city, and
have band, and charter a steamer
to bring all the people. and we will
have a grand dance at night. And
there will be such crowds of people
aud among them Isabel and your
sister,
Il have no douot Isabel will come
with pleasure | say, 'but, as for AL
le-don't trouble yourselves to ask
her on my account, especially as
will not be present.
'What has come over her p Msude
asks, plaintively.
Il am sure can't tell, Mr.. Muir.
rays Indifferent voice answers. Then
he glances at me with just such an
amused smile as one might give
child, whose wrath is conf
cal because so impotent. That smile
stings me. Il am a fool!' | say to
myself.
'The tide has gone down now! = L
add, aloud, and jump down on the
white sands, 'Mrs. Weaver will be
anxious about me. Good night, and
with swift steps, l pass over the
short space intervening between us
and the house. From my window
| can see that they talk there in the
moonlight long after | leave them
and when they 60 home, they walk
slowly, hand in hand. Somehow
seeing this makes me feel lonely, ana
/ lay my head on the sill, and say
from the very depths of my heart,
Il want Allie
1t is some time after this that I sit
at my desk and write letter to Al.
lie, telling her all about the beauties
of the seashore-about the phantom
ships l watch at twilight, climbing
the horizon-about the tinted shells |
ind-about the silver.sauds and sea;
and then l write a postscript, il
which say, Don't write any more
nonsense about what you call the
usual result 'Forewarned is fore.
armed, and have been we'll warned
by you and Mrs. Weaver. Of course
such thing would be quite like
story-and he is rich Gas you say),
but there is this slight drawback
be doesn't like me, and IL hate him.
'P. p. S Isabel will be able to
inform you with regard to his lady,
love-
CHAPTER w.
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