Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1880-01-29
DELICIA

She was so exquisitely beautiful, it
was actually provoking that there
shouldn't be the least romance about
her. Waves of pale golden hair rippled
away from her pearly forehead, and
were gathered into superb knot at the
back of her head. Such blue cleaned
in her sweet eyes, such lovely pink
mantled her soft cheek, such a smile
parted her ripe mouth, that, well-bred
rs you might be. you could not have re-
Trained from staring at her; and then,
thinking of straw berries and cream, have
longed for silver spoon with which ts
eat her.
But for all this there wasn't the least
romance connected with her. Though
three-and-twenty, Delicia had never
had lover. She lived in quiet farm
house among the White mountains with
round. She loved them dearly-was
happy with them and her horse, Joan
of Arc.
Joan was beautiful, high spirited; and
Delicia, who cared nothing for dancing
or flirting. and could neither sing nor
play was passionately fond Of horseback
riding. There was a spirit of pride and
daring in her which made her a superb
rider, and caused the young men of the
very bare neighborhood to call her
naughty. The delights of her life were
the pine-scented woods, the winter
landscapes of ermine snow and glitter
ing ice, the dreamy sweetness of the
autumn orchards. At twenty-three
Delicia had been content with an ex-
istence lived in comparative solitude.
Then came terrible calamity. Her
father was killed by a runaway horse.
and her mother, frail and unable to en-
dure the shock. sank slowly but surely
until, one mockingly bright, beautiful
day, Delicia found herself entirely alone.
Outsiders then called her cold. for no
one saw her weep. She only trembled
30 excessively beside the open graves
that old Aunt Thankful, who bad
nursed her de,id mother, was obliged to
support her to keep her from falling.
Otherwise she was composed, only her
sweet eyes had a look in them pitiful TO
see.
A change had come over Delicia's
serene life; the dear home-love was
gone, and the girls content had gone
With a native courage and reserve pc
culiar to ker she made no complaint I;
she asked Aunt Thankful rather wist-
fully to stay and keep house for her, and
maiden meditations. But Delicia's
dreams were troubled now. Life's grief
had touched her; she knew that sorrow
was in the world; she feared the future.
The strange, sad summer passed. One
fine November day, Bob, the hired man.
led Joan of Arc prancing 10 the door,
the side-saddleon her back.
have to 90 to the village, miss, to
buy tho new milch COW. I'll not be
back till noon. You'll not mind letting
Joan stand with the saddle on n little
till ! come ?"
"No," said Delicia, absently.
Her beautiful oval cheek was white
under her velvet cap. There was n sad
ness quite unmistakable In her eyes as
she turned Joan's head toward the hill
road.
Yet who, to have seen her beautiful,
spirited figure loping along the uplands,
would have OWNED the rare heart Of
the heiress Of WheatlandsP She did
not, perhaps, understand herself, and
did not know she had asked her own
soul: Am I 70 be all my life aloneP
Will no one great and good ever ask me
10 be bis dearly-beloyed wifeP Ifnot,
shall perish of the face of the tarth."
You must have guessed rarely to have
guessed how deeply ran the still wAters
Of that idyllic life. You would not
have guessed it from anything IN her
perfect proud face N she turned Il To-
ward passing carriage. The occupants
were bldse- looking man of thirty, per-
haps. and very young and pretty girl.
A single glance told the story-that
the young girl was loving and unhappy;
that the man, for some reason, found
her desirable Of possession.
He had hard black eyes that repelled
Delicia. yet the sight Of the two seated
20 closely gave her n vague. painful
feeling Of solitude and desoiatisn which
not long ago was utterly unknown to
her.
The carriage glittered b., and Joan
loped softly along the woody road.
soundless with : thick carpet Of pine
needles.
She made : circuit. and eane hack ts
the main road