The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1880-03-04

ing long level CLEANS of light aero,
the grass and dyeing it orange. II
was very light hearted to-day, with
feeling that poor Willie Beresfor
had died long ago, and that life ha
begun again, and that the prospect
OF existence were opening out. PEI
haps it was Maud, whose sweetnes
and pleasant society had suggested t.
him long stretches Of happy life t.
tie come. He went out, glad even of tn
sharpness of the air, pleased to hea
the cracking under his feet whicl
betokened the frost, and admiring tn,
fairy whiteness in which the grea
trees had robed themselves. All Ii
up with those red rays, with warn
and gorgeous belts of color upon the
sky, and every prospect Of cold anc
fine weather, the things most desira.
BILE when there is frost and it is
Christmas. the prospect round him
was of itself exhilarating. How
foolish, he thought, of the girls
not to come out, to get the benefit
OF tie smart walk through the
park, and the keen fresh air which
made his countenance glow. Talk of
summer! The park at Daintrey was
lovely always, but it was never more
beautiful than it was now, with that
red sunshine lighting up all those
stately white giants in their robes of
rime. He started lightly, closing the
door after him with cheerful bang.
and turning his steps towards the
lime-tree walk, through which one
great beam of Sunshine like red gold
had pierced in the opening between
the two great trees. This looked like
a golden bridge cutting the little
avenue in two; beyond it there was
the shadow Of the wall already de-
scribed which thrust itself straight in
front of the low sun
While Edmund admired this great
broad blaze of light he was startled by
seeing something move beyond it in
the darker part-something white,
which he could not make out so long
as he was himself in the sun. But
when he had crossed that bridge of |
light he was still more surprised to see
in front of him, at the end of the ave-
nue., woman, a lady, walking along
with the most composed and gentle
tread. The road was not exactly a
private road-all the people from the
village, almost everybody who came
to Daintrey on foot, used it. But
Edmund thought he knew all the
people about, and he certainly did not
know any one whose appearance was
at all like that of the lady who pre-
ceded him to the door in the wall
unless it, were one of the girls mas
querading; but he had just left the
girls with their mother round the
fire, and he could not entertain this
idea. The dress, too, struck him with
great surprise. 1t was white dress,
with black mantle round the shoul-
ders, and a large hat; not unlike the
kind of costume which people in
aesthetic circles begin to affect. but !
far more real and natural, it seemed to ,
him-though how he could Judge at !
this distance and with only the lady's !
back visible it would be difficult to
tell. The curious thing was that the
Edmund saw this pretty fig !
ire IN front of him his heart began to !
beat. He had the same feeling which
1 man sometimes has when he sud-
lenly meets a lovely face and says to /
himself that, please God, this woman t
S the one woman for him. But such a
| thing would be absurd when you a
consider that it was only her back he
'aw. Yet it made his heart beat; he t
vas seized with a great desire to fol- P
ow, to get good look" at her, to t.
Know what she could be doing here "
md who she was. What had she been n
loing there? Surely creature of so a
much grace, moving like that, dressed W
ike that, could not possibly have been
listing the servants hall; and that d
he had not been in the drawing
Dom he was sure. If she only would W
urn round at the sound Of his step: s;
,ut she did not turn round. She fl
moved on as if she heard nothing h
cross the curious little square, straight st
O the door in the wall. Come. Ed ri
nund said to himself, if she is going Sc
o the village | must overtake her. h
md he did not hurry, feeling sure cl
he could not escape him. He was it
LEASED by the little mystery-who in
ould it be? But he must find out S.
efore he returned, for unknown Ii
aides do not walk about in a park in in
he country, or go to and fro between NJ
he village and the great house, with p1
ut being easily traceable. What Il
retty walk she had! so light that 81
er step was not audible-no creaking HI
nd crunching upon fallen twigs and
tones and frostbound sod as with 81
i'm. He was charmed with the pretty, 81
raceful figure-certainly littl like
laud, simmer and not quite so la
traight, with pretty droop in it of 10
ragility and dependence, but yet GER ql
ainly lke-younger perhaps, though
1aud was but nineteen. He followed ia
er softly, promising to himself to m
uicken his steps as soon as she should o1
ave passed the door in the wall to h.
yhich she was leading the way.
PRESENTLY, about two minutes before =
i'm, she reached the door; he was so w
ear that he could see her half turn 4,
ound as if to look who was behind; '~
ut, though she must have perceived w
i'm, she closed the door upon him as 81
he passed through-not very civil, he
hought; but perhaps she was espie- r
lie, and could not resist little merry w
front to him, innocently provoca- T
i've, as is the fashion of girls. He 20
urried along the few intervening h, M
teps of the way, and opened the door. I
'erhaps after all she knew him; per-
APPS it was Maud, who was very fond M
f fun in the old days The smile h.
7as almost a laugh on his mouth when nc l,S
e stepped out Of the park and let the d1
oor swing carelessly behind him sL
of cbuttinU IT alahoro+oIr 90 che LII Oh