Middletown transcript., 1881-09-02
GRAY AND SCARLET.
BY FANNY DRIsCOLL.
It was a whim Of hers.

1t was a whim of hers.
Gray and scarlet.
For three or four months, now, eX-
pected to see nothing else.
Once, it had been pure white: ''white
samite, mystic, wonderful once, it
had been black and gold again, it
had been blue.
Each time, l used to think she could
look 50 lovely in nothing else-until
she wore the next color that struck her
fancy.
noticed that she generally came out
in something new, about the time that
all the women in her set had adopted
the colors that suited her so marvel
ously. and made her look so odd and
picturesque.
used to laugh in my sleeve, some
times, to see a dainty blonde wear
amber and jet, and look suddenly old
and dowdy or a hideOus dOwager
blossom out in pale violet, and seem
like dilapidated old crocus, that had
forgotten spring until the autum had
come, and then, surprisedly, made its
appearance.
AS for Viva, she looked lovely in
everything. There was not a shade, OF
tint, or color, but that, when she put
it on. seemed as if it had been manu-
factured for her particular edification.
She came into the room now, in soft,
clinging, shimmering, gray silk, with
knots of scarlet shining vividly and
mysteriously, here and there.
The pale, statuesque face, looked a
trife colder and more Indifferent than
usual the great, black eyes, drooped
languidly the ripe, red mouth, was a
little scornful.
She sat down in a low chair, bofore
the CRATE, and stared into the fire with
those black, bewildering eyes of hers.
"Joan, | am going home tomorrow, :
/ SIl6 SdlO3 ouuuCnly'
''Going home ~ / echoed, dropping
my book, startled.
{" Yes l am tired Of it all. So silly,
so frivolous, so mOnotonous Day after
day, the same old wearisome story
the same ancient, worn-out emotions,
dressed up in the most modern style,
which only serves to make them the
more pitiable The same false smiles
and shallow lies that anyone could
fathom-the burlesque of all that is
good. and true, and beautiful !! | hate
it y
looked at her. 1t was no new
thing for her to make such remarks
at least, for the last year. Before that,
she had been bright, and sparkling, and
winsome- merriest, sweetest girl L
had ever seen; but she had returned
from abroad this way-cold, and indif-
ferent, and bitter. What had worked
the change =?
But, however she might be, it made
no difference to the world. 1t went
mad about her; and the more scornful
she was, the madder it became.
eff | were not rich, how long would
it love me ?' she said, contemptuously.
You forget, dear, you would still
have your beauty | made reply.
Beauty - she exclaimed and then
her face grew so stern and white, | ac-
tually dared not say another word.
wondered and conjectured in vain.
She never spoke Of her three years
abroad-at least of anyone she had ever
met there. She was hardly girl to be
confidential and, although | was her
q nearest and dearest, - knew scarcely
more Of her heart than the veriest
stranger.
Once, indeed, in looking over some
of my music, l had seen her stop sud-
denly, as if an unseen hand had stayed
her, and she had stood moment, look
ing down blankly at sheet, and then
abruptly had gone from the room. l
went, wonderingly, to the music-stand,
but all | saw was a German song, with
the refrain: