Democratic messenger., 1881-04-09

HttAe Dlack mole
, ENID Taylor !" cried all three men
in one breath.
"Why, Scot, old boy, said Burnham,
"you have described Miss Taylor as if
she stood before you. Have you never
met her? Why, she is the young lady
Cy has been after for years.
"Pshaw !" said Cyrus, coldly, his
small black eyes moving uneasily, sit
+ is a mere coincidence there are scores
of women III New York who could an
swer to the first part of the portrait
thought of her"
Scot looked at his friend in some sur
prise. The tone was unlike HIM there
was strange look on his dark face
"It can't be he is jealous of the fancied
resemblance" he thought to himself
But aloud he said iokingly, "Cy is
right l don't know Miss Taylor; never
heard of her till this moment. You
know / have only been in New York a
month since my European trip. She
probably was only school girl when l
left"
Well, as far as locks are concerned,
said the sober Max, "Miss Taylor is
still girlish but she is twenty-five.
| The oldest thing to me is the height F.:
! five feet five. She is Just that; she told
me not many evenings since"
1.-THE height is nothing" burst in
Ned Burnham, its the hair that took
me. Why, that is Enid Taylor's hair
exactly, and many girl would give a
good sum to possesses it. But / tell
you, Cy has her photo over his manly
heart. Trot it ont, and that will settle
it."
A stubborn look came over Cyrus's
face he bit his lip. Scot, seeing his
| irritation, hastily interposed go,
Burnham That is not fair, man, tell
ing tales We don't ask that. l shall
probably see the young lady some time,
and she will no more resemble my ideal
than many others | have shadowed
only to be consumed with disappoint-
ment."
Cyrus, however, not to be outdone i'll
courtesy, but mentally resolving to en-
tice Burnham to some shady nook and
murder him, took from an inner pocket
a Russia leather case, cabinet size, and
opened it on the table. The photo
graph represented the young girl stand
ing by a stile, large hat on her arm.
Nothing could have been more effective
than the distribution of light and shad-
ows-nothing more charming than the
look of eager expectancy on the pretty
face.
Scot grew white as death, as he leaned
over Burnham's shoulder looking Mt the
picture, but his voice, when he spoke,
sounded perfectly natural to the others.
"No, gentlemen Miss Taylor is ev-
erything that is lovely but she is not
for me r'
The words were worth the pain it gave
him to utter them. Cyrus's face cleared;
the sullen expression vanished. He re-
placed the photograph carefully in his
pocket while a gleam of passionate ten.
! deness shone in his dark eyes.
"Ah - unused Scot, "you love this
girl, old fellow! Well, you shall never
be jealous of me, our friendship makes
/ that certain.
Shortly after the quartette broke up.
Each went their separate ways-two
forgetting the incident and two remem-
bering it all their days
/ 1t was long past midnight when Scot
+ found himself in his snug bachelor
quarters. He sank wearily into a chair
before the fireless CRATE, pale and worn.
How long he sat there dreaming he did
not know, but when the first ray of
dawn stole through the hangings he had
made up his mind to leave New York,
and at once.
/ The sweet face iii its costly frame over
the fireplace, in his room in the old
f Vermont farmhouse, was the same he
had seen Cyrus replace next his heart.
/ He would not run the risk of a meeting
with Miss Taylor. He would go away
until he could command his nerves and
/ quiet his pulses, leaping with the old
desire to find this girl and call her his
/ "I will go home to Vermont until [
! feel less bitter" he said to himself, and
so saying rose and braced himself, and
began to pack That done he break
tasted, wrote and mailed a note to Cy-
rus, explaining where he had gone, and
I asking him to join him later.
He felt far more cheerful, he was con-
scious of doing right. With guns, fish
ing-rods, books and cigars, time would
not pass too slowly and, besides, how
gra!ified his dear old mother would be
at this unexpected visit.
While the train sped through the
woodlands towards the little village he
called home, Cyrus, not yet having re-
ceived the note, sauntered down to see
his friend on some business. He found
the rooms deserted, the tenant gone
He was much put out and showed il
plainly on his gloomy face. He was
intensely selfish and his love for Enid
Taylor made him more so. Reckless,
extravagant, occupying high position
in society, yet with tastes neither cul-
tivated nor refined, his love for this girl
held hlm in restriction. His very un-
worthiness rendered him keenly jealous.
He had known Enid for years, and
made no concealment of his feelings to.
wards her. His visits were encouraged
by Mrs. Gervais, the widowed sister OF
Mr.. Taylor, who presided over his
household, and with devoted tenderness
watched over her motherless niece.
OF Enid's sentiments towards himself
Cyrus had no hint. He thought she
returned his affection and with the com.
placent vanity so often without founda.
tion fattered himself in Thousand ways
that he was preferred. A more humble
suitor would, by careful examination
and undertaking of his merits, been
dubious, where Cyrus, i'll his over
whelming pride was confident. He
would willingly have become engaged
N Enid I,1f fha x-OYYr, lo1u l,x- avarx