Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1881-06-03

MarlaH temple. VINO Will probably prove
the hore of the party
"Why ?''
"Oh! she is an old maid, blue stocking,
and poet. forgave her her novel 'Ir-
mine;" but deliver me from woman who
writes verses and calls them Water
( Lilies"
Nov 1 should enjoy all the pleasures
of novelty in meeting her." 1 exclaimed.
II have not one old maid on my visiting
| list, and never had an hours converse
poetess. You don't happen to have her
books about you, do your"
''You will find them on the library table
unless some one is reading them. There
are several copies about, as most of our
guests brought them.''
found them, as promised, on the library
table, and after L got to my own room 1
opened the poems. The more read, the
more was convinced that no old maid
penned them. They were full of the fire,
the genius, even the faults of youth, and
some of them 1 seemed to have written
brought back to me the lake where May
and had f1oated upon the transparent
water, gathering the great, white. snowy
treasures in profusion. I saw her sweet
face dip into great heap upon the floor
of the boat and come up laughing, far
sweeter than the most glorious blossom
there. Then saw her in the soft white
evening dress, with the white lilies trail
ing from her soft curls upon her pretty,
dimpled, childish shoulders, dancing glee-
fully, the only little girl in the room, and
with an admirer wearing mustache-her
devoted admirer.
And here it was, all in musical verse,
with refrain of regret for the child-love
gone forever.
1t was far into the night when I slept,
with the volume of "Water Lilies'' tucked
under my pillow, and at the first daylight
was picking out once more little scraps
of memory-a drive we took to Marian's
Falls, which Marian gravely assured me
were named 'years and years" before she
was. born; walk we took, when 1 tucked
up her curls in womanish fashion and
twisted in sweet brier, being piteously re-
preached few hours later with making
her ''pull every hair out with those horrid
thorns;;" ride we took to Horseshoe
Pond, where we pledged mutual faith and
love in cups of lilies and vowed eternal
constancy. Page after rage brought my
sweetheart to me, till fshed my locket
out of my dispatch box.and put it round
my neck, ready for an emergency-ready
to swear, with as much truth as most low
ers' vows, that it had never left my heart
since her white hands first placed my treas
ure round my neck.
To Paris! We were en- route at last 1
knew my darling's verses by heart. 1 had
read her novel twice, dreadfully Disguised
both times by the fact that the heroiLe,
who had brown eyes and golden hair, mar
ried a hero who bore not the faintest re-
semblance to me.
The American party had engaged rooms
for us at the hotel they patronized; and
one general drawing room was to serve the
entire party. Here, after making my dress
an object Of the most especial study,
went on the wings of love. A lady stood
by the window looking out, and I went
forward timidly. She must be one of our
party or she would not be there. Her
dress-a Partisan marvel of taste and sim
plicity-was that of jeaae file; her figure
was tall, graceful and slender. and her gol-
den hair was dressed with all the modern
denominations. But she never stirred or
turned until stood close beside her, when
she turned her full face to me. My darl-
ing's face, with all the little baby curls
on the forehead, all the sweet innocence
in the big brown eyes. 1t utterly unman-
ned me. For moment I could not speak;
then held out trembling hands almost
Whispering:
sMy little sweetheart -
''You have not forgotten ?" she said.
II have never forgotten. No other has
has taken for one hour your place in my |
heart. But you, beautiful and famous,
with your TALENT
'Hush !" she said, softly. "Who gave
me any of the gift you call talent ? You |
who taught me that books were not mere
ly dreadful repetitions invented to torment |
school girls, but preparations for future
power of intellect; that lessons were not |
strings of words to be committed to mem
ory, but stores of knowledge to be garner
ed and cherished. You reused my ambi-
tion. my hope, what power I have of ex-
pressing what my brain suggests.
''May," said, gaining possession again
of the hand she had released, ''you have |
travelled, seen the world, had your con-
quests; can I, dare L, hope I may still I
call you-''
She nestled into my bosom, her big eyes
raised frankly to meet mine, and said:
"Your little sweetheart now and ever !"
Elbow meant to torment you'll" she
told me later, when, her soft, loving emo
ton over, her sauciness regained sway.
II intended to win you back by all the
arts of coquetry, of jealousy-for have
lover OR two, sir-but my heart betrayed
me when saw your love in your eyes and
knew you had been faithful all these long
years. Dear father and mother will be
delighted, but, perhaps, ought to tell you
Janey is a widow"
"Then you guessed that secret too?'
"You great goose, you were the family
until took pity on you"
''I1l believe as much as I please of that"
.kol 10, =, |
made the first advances. ''-Neao York
Ledger.
AN EsTIMABLE LADY.-ManY of the
old epitaphs found on country tombstones
are notable only for their odditY. but here