The Hickman courier. [volume] (Hickman, Ky.) 1859-current, 1881-05-06
THE PAINTED FAN.

red lips trembled. The promise broke
down the last remnant of her strength;
the next moment she had burst into
passionate, bitter weeping.
1t seemed as though the branches in
the tree above them bent pityingly down
upon them; though the sun fingered
moment in its tenderest sympathy, ere
breathing his good night to the world
though the robin checked his notes to
listen To the sobs which echoed through
the silence of the wood, and stirred Earl
Lysle's heart as it had not been stirred
before for many long year.
He had won the love of many women
won it often for the mere pleasure of
winning; sometimes he had won and
worn it until it wearied him, but always
believing that had the condition been re-
versed. the woman would have done even
rs he did. In this case he knew differ
emily. When he first met Lena Man
ming she had been a child 1t had been
his hand which had guided her wavering
steps across the boundary line from
childhood to womanhood; he who had
wakened her child-heart from its slum-
Der. For what? For this! 1t had been
in his life summer-idyl, passing folly;
in hers, the one spot from which al
things henceforth must date He was a
man of the world; she a child of nature,
whose world henceforth was bounded by
the horizon of his presence.
Hush, Lena-hushl" he entreated,
passing his arm about her waist ''Do
YOU really care for me like this p
passing pride stirred at his ques-
ton.
do you care for me so little that you
can not understand it ?" she answered
Nay | love you very 6early-so
dearly, Lena, that, might 1 carve out my
own desires, and forget my duties,
would never go back 10 the great city,
and the life which has grown wearisome.
As it is, / must go; but, Lena, if L may,
dear-if | can so shape my destiny
some day / will leave it all behind me.
and come again, this time to pluck and
wear my sweet woodland rose next to my
heart forever"
Pretty words were very natural to
Earl Lysle; vet even as he spoke these
words, he knew that ere another year
had run its course, he was destined to
lead to the altar his heiress-cousin-a
tall, naughty brunette-whose letter Of
recall now lay in the breast-pocket of his
coat
''But-but if things should go amiss
not You fancy?"
There was absolute terror in the girls /
tones-terror so great that, to the man,
1t seemed cruelty not to quiet it; and,
besides, his heart was stirring within
him to nobler, better purposes.
Perchance ne might avow to his be-
trothed the truth, that, instead of mar
rage of convenience, he sought mar
rage of love, and ask her to free him
from chains which already began 10 gall
ere they were fully forged.
So he only drew closer to him the
girls slender figure, until the blonde
head lay on his shoulder, as he stopped
aud pressed his lips TO its golden crown.
Have no fear, my little one. will
come back with the first snow"
You promise, Earl?"
81 promise!'
rather than winter The leafy trees, the
birds, the flowers. the blue sky-all had
been to her as welcome friends, to be
greeted rapturously, to be parted with
almost tearfully; but this year she could /
scarcely wait for the turning of the /
foliage, or the southern fight of the /
birds
She smiled from her window, as she |
looked out one bright morning upon the |
first frost. She laughed when people |
said that it would be an early winter.
All her painting-for she possessed |
great talent with her brush-depicted |
winter scenes-snow and ice.
But Just at the Thanksgiving season
her father, q sturdy farmer, was borne !
senseless, one day, to his home, and |
died before he recovered consciousness.
1t was her first real grief She had
lost her mother when an infant 1t
seemed TO her that she could not have
had strength to live through it, but that,
n they lowered the coffin into the grave,
. few flakes of snow came whirling down
from the gray sky, and she welcomed
them rs heaven-sent messengers of hope.
When she came back to the quiet
house, through whose rooms the dear,
CHEEKY voice would never more echo,
she almost expected to find some one
waiting for her; but all was still and
desolate.
They were dreary weeks that followed
the more dreary that she found a
heavy mortgage lay on the farm, and
that when all things were cleared up,
there would be left to her but few hum
dred dollars.
"He will not care" she murmured.
1T will prove his love for me the more"
The week after the funeral, set in the
first heavy snow-storm. and the papers
told how it had spread from one end of
the country to the other.
Lena was almost barricaded in her
lonely home, but she sat all day, with
folded hands. looking upon the soft,
feathery flakes watching the drifts
grow higher and higher-and knew that
II was all bringing summer to her heart.
The neighbors came to take her in
their sleighs, when the sun peeped out
again and all the earth was wrapped in
Its white mantle. They said that her
cheeks were pale and her hands fever
ish, and that she must have more of this
clear, bracing air
But she shook her head and refused
to go. Could she leave the house, when
at any moment he might come? Besides,
she had sent to him paper with the
announcement of her fathers death, and
this must surely hasten him.
But day succeeded day, until week
followed week, and still he neither came
nor sent her word. The snow-clouds
lad formed and fallen many times, and
each time her heart grew sick with long
ing.
She loved him so wholly, she trusted
him so completely that she thought only |
sickness or death could have kept him |
from her
The hours dragged very slowly. Her |
little studio was neglected. She sat all |
day, and every day, beside the window,
until one morning she wakened to know
that the first robin had returned, and |
the first breath of spring was in the air.
her.