News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1881-12-22


sweetly:
"Of course You don't mean anything
you are saying, Garry, but do you think
you ought to say such things, even in
Jest"
am in no mood for ies ting" I re-
piled, with the high-mightiness of one
whose fourteenth birthday was just past.
Sour friendship has not been jest to
me, nor am the one who has thrown
you aside for another r.
Her eyes grew sad in the midst OF
their lingering incredulity, as if convic-
ton were slowly coming to her that l
was in earnest.
Scan it be possible, Carry" she said,
still gently, "that you really think I
have treated you ill-that I have ceased
to love you'll, who have loved you all
my life?"
Her very gentleness angered me.
"What is love WORTH" I cried, " that
will make no sacrifice for its object !?
VIII you leave Miss Edith Stanhope
alone, and come and pass every other
afternoon with me, as you used ?"
With all Grace's gentleness, she was
not wanting either in self-respect or In
spirit, and she answered me very frankly:
"No, Garry, I will not leave my
cousin to spend every other afternoon
alone while she is my guest and you
ought not to like me so well if 1 would. "
suppose I knew in my own soul that
she was right; and that very knowl-
edge made me the more determined.
Besides, my jealousy famed more fierce
Iy than ever and jealousy, You know,
| is cruel.
every well," I said. "Keep Miss
Edith Stanhope, and I wish you Joy of
her. Perhaps, when she goes away,
your ladyship will condescend to think
of me again but I may have learned
other ways of passing my afternoons by
that time. Good-by."
thought this address very whitening,
I remember. Grace half put out her
hand to me, as if she would detain me.
Then she evidently thought better of it,
and turned away and joined her cousin.
This conversation had been held in a
corner of the school-yard, and after it
was over, Grace and Edith walked away
together.
went home alone. That was in
September. October and November
came and went, and still the estrange
ment between Grace and me continued.
We nodded to each other when we met,
with distant politeness we even said
good-morning if our paths crossed; but
this was all.
Sometimes I saw a wistful look in
Grace's dear, dark eyes, and some word
ready to be spoken seemed to tremble
on her lips but took no notice. My
jealousy was like an actual, haunting
presence, which never forsook me.
The first day of December, my moth
er gave me twenty-dollar gold piece.
1t was the sum which for some years
had been given to each of us-Grace
and neon the first of December, with
which to make our Christmas presents.
Our mothers had thought, wisely,
that we ought to have some experience
in the use of money, and we were both
ambitious to make the most and best of
it. Our presents for each other were
always a grand surprise, reserved for
Christmas eve, but about every other
item we consulted.
T wondered if Grace had already re.
ceived her gold piece; and whether she
would miss me as much in planning
how to use it as / should miss her.
Then the thought crossed my mind that
| I should have the more for others, as,
of course, I should buy nothing fol-
Grace.
And then came sudden, swift revul-
sion of feeling. Not buy anything for
Grace, who had been my hearts delight
all my life, ever since that first day
when she put out her baby hand and
said, Chow 'oo do, Cahwy? l glad 90
come"
I tried to shut my heart against her
image. L said to myself that no one
would deny it was hard, that when we
had been all in all to each other for all
those years, another person should
come and swallow up Grace altogether.
But conscience lifted up her voice and
reminded me that it was not Grace's
fault that I had not been with her as
much as before, and shared her daily
life with her cousin as / had shared it
when she was alone.
''Great good that would have been, -"
I answered aloud to the inward voice,
hoping thus to silence it, ''great good,
with always missy, the cousin, to hear
every word that we said u
But try how I might, I could not
make myself comfortable. began to
think I could not help buying Grace's
present. Perhaps I would not give it
to her-perhaps 1 would send it on
Christmas Day, with a few lines OF
poetry 1 prided myself, rather, on the
''lines" I could write for such occasions
and so show that, though had given
her up to her new friend, I bore no
malice.
That idea pleased me. 1 persuaded
myself that I should be heaping Goals
of fire on her head, and l took great
delight, as I have observed that people
usually do, in the thought of making
them as hot as possible.
81 am going to buy Grace present, "
/ remarked to my mother in an off
hand way, with, I rather think, some
vague idea that she would admire my
largeness of mind. She has asked me
once or twice during the last few weeks
what was the matter between Grace and
me; and said Nothing, except that
Grace had not time enough for both her
cousin and myself"
When / announced my intention to
make Grace a present, it was received,
I must confess, with disappointing
equaaimity. "Oh," my mother said,
earelessly, and went on with her sewing.
Once resolved upon buying that gift,
it filed all my thoughts. 1t should be
something that Grace could not help
liking, and it should be pretty. no mat
! ter how the other gifts Jared.
There was one thing that I knew
Grace had long wanted-a silver locket
with picture of myself. Could give
her my picture, now that I had chosen