The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1881-07-09
HER STORY, AND HIS.


pettishly. He certainly is not the
sort Of person to go into raptures
about" !
.sverar'
But in spite of my aunt's expostulary
tone, and a frown from my cousin Ger
aid. ! continue my remarks.
81 eve was so disappointed in all
my life. To think of calling him .
hero-that weakly. delicate-looking
cripple uom.nn
1t is a warm afternoon. and we are
all out upon the lawn; my cousin 10
swinging lazily to and fro in q ham
mock, which is suspended just beneath
the tall elms, and, from his elevated po-
sition, he has been able to see the slow
approach. along the walk by the side Of
the house, of the individual under dis
cussion. Can he have heardp For
once my self-possession entirely deserts
me, and l sit with crimsoned cheeks
and down-drooped, frightened eyes,
ashamed Of myself-and d~eservedly so.
for bave.I not spoken slightingly Of .
guest, and my cousins dearest friendP"
s.How cool and comfortable you
look" saba pleasant voice. II have
obeyed your Injunction. Mrs. Yorks,
and rested for a full hour. and / can
assure you I feel greatly refreshed after
my long journey"
~Invofuntarily i draw a sigh Of relief.
He has not heard-if he had he could
v look and speak so unconcernedly.
He takes o seat near me, and when. At
last, 1 venture to raise my eyes they
meet a calm. friendly. answering gaze.
No. it is quite evident he has not heard.
Before proceeding. ! will describe
this college chum, and beau ideal Of all
perfection, of my cousin Gerald Yorie.
His name Is Austin Buchanan. his pro
fession that Of a doctor. and his age ]
should judge to be somewhere about
thirty; he Is not tall, and Is very deli
cate looking. and. what detracts still
further from his appearance, he Is very
lame.
Now. somewhere in remote ages
very remote. I should say, as 1 have
heard 1t quoted ever since l knew
enough to be proud Of q new SASH
some ono remarked that .'beauty Is but
skin deep" However tina. may be, 10
Is Just as true that I was born with an
eye for omeliness and an aversion to .
deform OF blemish. Of any kind.
A week goes by; seven suns have ris-
Ell and set since Doctor Buchanan first
came to "Fellmount''-by which name
our beautiful home. situated in the very
heart ct the lovely Westmoreland lakes,
~ called. The last OF these seven days
finds my first impression Of my visitor
decidedly modified.
When he is silent l think him plain.
and my eyes wander to his crutch; but
" len he speaks. and his face b~rightens
! it fairly CLOVIS. then ! cease to
d n at tho charm he exercises over my
cousin. Two more weeks hasten by.
81 must 20 Mt the expiration of an
o her" Doctor Buchanan says. decid-
ely. ''Now, Gerald, no urging, my
kind friend. l cannot leave my duties
any longer"
That night ! push back my curls and
study my reflection in the glass. have
n reason for so doing. That very after
noon, as sat rca.iing in my ~favorite
retreat. tucked IVA from tie heat and
the flies in an odorous bower OF Ma
lures own making, with dropping rose
sprays falling all about and hiding me,
only distant Il stones throw from where
my cousin and his friend had csconccd
themselves; they were finishing n pre-
vious conversation, and before l could
rise and make myself known l over
heard something which eifectually kept
mo where / was.
81 know your admiration for a noble
character" Gerald was SAYING; "bui
you must not think little Vera IS MS friv.
olous as she appears. You haven,
seen her best side. She Is iitful and
capricious before You because / think
your Indifferent rather piqucs
her. The spoiled child is very Young.
and has been spoiled by too much all
miration; she is accustomed to see
every man she meets DO homage to her
pretty face"
The answer came musingiy and nb.
scntly:
Yes. your cousin might be pretty
nay. beautiful-in some eyes,. but to me
there is something wanting in her face.
perfect in outline and color though it is
tho Undine needs a SOUL"
My glass shows me two dark, mis-
chievous eyes, set in n round. fair faco.
a small. curved mouth, and q straight
nose.
"Undine needs n soulr'-what could
he meanp But my mirror does not pos
sess a like gift with the ancient oracle.
and turn away unanswered and dis
satisfied.
The last week of our visitors stay hns
drawn to a close. and he has gone.
All! truly in three short months OF
daily companionship, 1 have grown
fully to understand Gerald's admiration
for Austin Buchanan. Never before
have l had such q mine Of varied and
entertaining knowledge unlocked be.
fore me. or things above the sky
rcverently touched upon; Of things be-
low; of the marvels of foreign countries,
and Of the interesting objects in our
%own-upon each and every topic he has
been equally at home; and though he
has paid but little attention to me, I
AVE quietly listened and benefited By
what ! have heard. Now that no has
gone / awake to find that, like Gerald,
l have allowed q hero-worship to spring
up In my heart, that l miss his quiet
football, and that, though fear he does
not even like me-deems me doll-liko
and frivolous-1 have grown to care
for this grave. plain man. so different
from the shallow youths Of whom ]
meet q plenty in society.
When / ask Gerald, he readily tells
me all about his friend, and / learn
how 1t was that no came to be lame.
Aao", Wnen mefe youih, no huu peen
present at n large fire. and how. when
no n else had dared-he had climbed
d ladder in tho face of the blazing
flames to savo a little child. The lad
der had broken before his descent had
been completed. and he had fallen with
the little n In his arms. The child
had been unharmed. but then It was
that he received the injury which made
him o cripple.
As l listened TO Gcrald's enthusiastic
description Of his friends brave act, my
heart stirs and throbs within me. This
y tho mar Of whom. in my girlish
thoughtlessness. I s-oke s%lightingly,