Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1880-06-30
DELICIA.

IL was actually provoking that
there shouldn't he the least TO-
nance about her. Waves Of pale,
golden hair rippled away from her
pearly forehead, and were gather
ed into a superb knot at the back
of her head. Such q blue CLEAN
ed in her sweet eyes, such lovely
pink mantled her soft cheek, such
a smile parted her ripe mouth, that
vell-bred as You might be, you
could not have refrained from
staring at her; and then, thinking
of strawberries and cream, have
longed for a silver spoon with
which 10 eat her.
But for all this there wasn't the
least romance connected with her.
Though Internationally, Delicis
had never had 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 aud her horse, Joan OF
Arc.
Joan was beautiful, high spirited
and Delicis, who cared nothing for
dancing or flirting, and could neith-
er sing nor play, was passionately
fond Of horseback riding. There
was a spirit of pride and daring in
her way which made her 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 glittering ice, the
dreamy sweetness Of the autumn
orchards. AT twenty-three, De-
licia had been content with an ex-
istence lived in comparatively soli-
tude.
Then came q terrible calamity.
Her father was killed by runs-
way horse, and her mother, frail
and unable to endure 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 on
" trembled so excessively beside
the open grave that old Aunt
Thankful, who had nursed her dead
mother, was obliged to support
her to keep her from falling
Otherwise she was composed, only
her sweet eyes had look in them
pitiful 10 see.
A change came over Delicia':
serene life; the dear home-love
was gone and the girls content had
gone. With a native courage and
reserve peculiar to her, she made
no complaint; she asked Aun'
Thankful rather wistfully to STAY
and keep house for her, and ther
turned to her books and horse anC
maiden meditations. But Deliciat
dreams were troubled now. Life
grief had touched her; she knew
that sorrow was in the world sh
feared the future.
The strange, sad summer passed
One fine November day, Bob, th
hired man, led Joan of Arc pranc
ing to the door, the side-saddle o.
her back.
81 have to go TO the village, mis-:
to buy the new mich COW. /.
not be back till noon. You'll no
mind letting Joan stand with tn
saddle on a little till l come ?"
"No," said Delicia, absently.
Her beautiful oval cheek wa
white under her velvet cap. Their
was a sadness quite unmistakabl
in her eyes as she turned Joan
head toward the hill-road.
Yet who, to have seen her beau
tiful, spirited figure Looping the ur
lands, would have OWNED the rsr
heart Of the heiress Of Wheatland
She did not, perhaps, understan
herself, and did not know she ha
risked her own soul: cam to b
all my life alonei Will not on
great and good ask me to be b
dearly beloved wife :"
You must have guessed rarely
have guessed how deeply ran th
still waters OF that idylic life. 70
would not have guessed it fror
anything in her perfect, proud fac
as she turned 1t toward q passiD
carriage. The occupants were
blaze-looking man OF thirty, pei