The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1880-01-14
DELICIA.

She was so exquisitely beautiful, IL
was actually provoking that there
sho dldn't be the least romance about
p h.c. Waves of pale golden hair rippled
away from her pearly forehead, and
Were gathered into u superb knot at the
hack of ber head. Such blue cleaned
in her sweet eyes, such lovely pink
mantled her soft cheek, such smile
parted her ripe mouth, that, well-bred
us you might he, you could not have re-
Trained from staring at her; and then,
thinking of straw berries and cream. have
longed for II silver spoon with which to
eat her.
But for all this there wasn't the least
romance connected with her. Though
three-and-twenty, Delicia had never
had n lover. She lived in quiet farm
house among the White mountains with
her father and mother all the year
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 passi0nately fond of horseback
riding. There was u spirit of pride and
.taring in her which made her a superb
l'ic er, ard 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 twentv-three
Delica had been content with an cx-
istPnce lived in comparative solitude.
Then came terrible calamity. Her
father was killed by a runaway horse,
aad 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
so excessively beside the open graves
that olU Aunt Thankful, who had
nursed her de, ID mother, was obliged to-
support her to keep her from falling.
Otherwise she was composed. only her
sweet eyes had look in them pitiiul to
see.
A change had come over Delicia's
serene life; the dear home-love was
gone, and the girls content had gone.
With native courage and reserve pc
culiar to her she made no complaint;
she asked Aunt Thankful rather wist-
fully to stay and keep house for her, and
then turned to her books and horse 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 Are prancing to the door,
the side-saddle on her back.
" have to 90 to the village, miss, to
buy the new milch cow. I'll not be
back till noon. You'll not mind letting
Joan stand with the saddle on little
till l Gomez"
No." said Delicia, absently.
Her beautiful oval cheek was white
under her velvet cap. There was 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 looping 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 | to be all my life alone?
Wiilno one great and good ever ask me
to be his dearly beloved wifeP Ifnot, l
shall perish off the face of the earth"
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 as she turned it to-
ward n passing carriage. The occupants
were n 6lqse- looking man of thirty, per-
haps, and very young and pretty girl.
single glance told the stOry-that
the young girl was loving and unhappy;
THAT the man, for some reason, found
hey desirable of possession.
He had hard black eyes that repelled
Delicia. yet the sight of the two seated