The Osceola times., 1880-05-15
DO AS YOU'RE BID.
BELGRANIA.


round the corner of the piazza only
smiled; and yet he was man.
"But, Doll. YOU will have to mind your
husoand," responded gentle, drawing,
exasperatlng voice.
"Shall II" returned the first speaker.
"He has not appeared on the stage
vet, Grace. When he does, 1t 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 10 be listener,
however, involuntarily, for he was a
gentleman. lie did not altogether es-
cape that presence, however, by his own
absence. He carried with him vivid
picture of the tall, slight tignre, graceful
as deer; the dark. tender eyes, that
could be full OF lightning; theproud deli
cate, sensitive face; the abundant brown
nair, shot with red rays, like a ripe
chestnut skin. He had studied this por-
trait many days, for he had known Doro-
thea Schenck as a child, and though for
years they had not met, this summer
| they were together at quiet little
tavern in the hills of Vermont, Mr.. Hor-
ton for rest from a 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 a spoiled child.
| The idea of obedience was as distasteful
| to her as bit and bride TO a wild horse.
| Her outbreak this morning was excited
10y some careless gossip of Grace Hamil-
ton's-a girl of her own age who had
come with them to Adds, partly because
Dora coaxed her, partly because it was
cheap. and Grace was not too rich.
The subject of their discourse had been
the suffering, publicly paraded, OF GER
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 n 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 TIL 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 tall-a fact
which the natural levity and folly of the
WOfnlH y lluAuTc leu ilei W iNil iii 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 isour 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 undiiplined, a blind indulgence
| had set her adriit 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 ca prices. Poor child, life is the
sternest of teachers, even with al the
preparations that can be made for its en-
counter, and merciless pedagogue to
| the willful and ign ,rant. Mr.. Horton
was bewitched with Dora against his
Judgment; her fresh piquant grace, her
regal beauty, and her very insurgent
way of action and speech, capuyated hlm
lie knew with painful clearness that she
was as unfit for ministers wife as a
woman could be, but he knew also that
without her his life would lose its savor
and become a 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 10 be that re-
sort of country boarders in lack of all
other amusement, a picnic to Glen falls,
n wild raylne in the heart Of the hills,
through which rapid brook tore its
way, plunging from one precipice to an.
other, at no one spot to be seen III iull
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 arr,
and when the long wagons of Saltash
| house arrived at the foot OF the rayine
all the Younger members Of the party
we're unanimous in their resolve 10 climb
10 Clear pond. while the older ladies and
one white-haircd bachelor, who cared
little Tor scenery and much for his ease,
remained quietly on broad rock by the
lower pool, where thick pine boughs shell
| tered them from the sun, and the cool
odor of dripping water seemed TO dis
perse whatever hes. the July weather
threatened.
lwo couple had already gone upward,
when Dora and Grace, accompanied by
Mr.. Horton and Ned Schenck, n cousin
O Dora's began TO climb. Botn 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,
Ills rough yet slippery ascent looked
fearful enough; nor were kid boots tbe
best preparation for sharp rocks and
| moss strewn with pine needles. 1t
seemed all but impossiole for Dora TO at
tempt such task, but her pride forbid
retreat while Grace, in dispair, suffered
herself to be half carried up the stcepcst
pitches by Ned Scheneck, and lifted
bodily over stones and lo.s that she de-
carcd herself altogether unable 10 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 peremptory.
"Put your foot here, Miss Schenck,
now the other on that stone. Give me
your lett hand, and take firm hold OF
that bough TO the right"
Dora obeyed with the most childlike
confidence, for the abyss below her and
the height above were alike terrible, but
she had the best of courage which will
not turn back, though trembling with
terror.
Grace. from below, helpless burden,
saw with sort of pique how well Dora
endured the march, and caught Mr.. lIor-
tons admiring glances at the 1.-THE figure
I Al ht-ayG anH u Intllp