Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1882-03-02

his bringing matters to focus, and
was not vet prepared to reveal to him
my occupation for the present, or plans
for the future. In truth, was a slave
to the silly and criminal prejudices of
the old man May. The past and the
future were topics with which a man of
his weak proclivities should have moth
ing to do. He lived in the present,
didn't want to look day beyond, basked
in the joy of the hour, forbidding any
one to hint that it might not last for
ever.
Florence knew that loved her. How
could she help but know? My whole
being exhaled a constant alteration of
her presence. The sweep of her gar
ments sent a thrill to my heart; the
clasp of her hand was a delirium of
bliss. One morning she ran to meet
me, and drew me aside into little sum-
mer-house where we had spent many
ecstatic hours. The wind wantoned
with the golden hair which hung loose
about her neck, and heightened the
color that was already warm in her
cheek. A morning robe of faint blue
cashmere, embroidered with a deeper
shade and opened down to her feet, re-
vealed a delicately embossed skirt of
India muslin. As I said before, per-
haps notice these little feminine decora-
tons more than the generality of men,
and never beheld neater and more eff
fective combinations in color and style
than adorned the matchless beauty of
Miss May.
go, Mortimer" she said, with her
hand upon my arm, and looking up into
my face with charmingly pleading ex-
preston, evil you do something for
me?"
"Anything! everything!" cried. 81
would lay down my life to serve you. "
Transported with her beauty, the en-
chanting surroundings, the hour, the
place, the situation, threw myself at her
feet, and implored her to promise she
would be mine forever. "I will give
up everything, leave everything,t to come
here and be your slave. Say that you
love me, Florence
go, you foolish boy,' she said, "you
know that 1 love you. But what want
you to do just now is to make yourself
has just arrived from the East. She is
an old schoolmate of mine, and has met
with a great loss. I was so shock to
see her in deep mourning.'' Here Flor
ence grew pale and trembled in my en-
brace. So tender was the old man
Mays rearing of this delicate girl, the
subject she sought to approach appalled,
her. "You know papa hates to see
people in black. So do 1. 1 think its
detestable, wicked custom. I know
papa won't be nice to her. He'll avoid
her, keep out of her way, take his meals
at separate hours. But you, Mortimer
you'll be good to the poor thing, won't
you? You won't mind her being sad and
mournful and not wearing colors?''
"On the contrary" l said, smiling
with calm superiority over the old
man May. cit will be an incentive to
my interest in this dear young lady
Where is she?''
elm the breakfast-room. Let us 90
to her at once" said Florence; and
hand in hand we went out of the summer
house. Little did think should never
enter it again. Little did I dream, as
the warm white hand rested confidently
in mine, that few brief moments would
render it cold as marble to my touch or
entreaty.
The old man May was already walk
ing UP and down the balcony, his hands
beneath the tails of his coat. His face
was red and troubled. He had evidently
seen the mournful young person in the
breakfast-room, and fled from her pres
ence. My manner involuntarily suited
itself to the occasion, It was subdued
and sympathetic. My step was soft and
slow. My voice was modulated to a
melancholy cadence as bade. Mr.. May
good morning. He scowled at me, and
resumed his walk. The old man May
must have been fool to suppose could
put off the habits of a lifetime. was
reared to these things. I entered the
room. Florence introduced me. The
young woman looked at me, put both
her hands to her head, uttered q long,
loud shrek, and tainted.
"What is it," said the old man May,
running in at the door. There stood
Florence gazing distrustfully from her
friend to me; there was the young wo-
man in a dead faint. The old man May
glared from one to the other.
ssShe tainted at the sight of Mr.. Clay"
SAID Florence, growing paler ana coloer
with every word.
"I solemnly swear I never to my
saw her before!" l said, and
spoke the truth.
" Well, I'm tired of this" said the old
man May. 81 hate all this mystery and
beating about the bush. Who are you,
What's your business? What
do you do for living? You are hanging
around my daughter
'Ilove her; l adore her, exclaimed.
II would give my life for her." And
then sank into chair, and covered my
face with my hands. felt that the aw-
full moment had come, and the thought
of losing Florence through this old
mans imbecility nearly drove me mad.
Florence had helped carry her friend
out of the room. We were alone.
"See here, Mr.. May" said, getting
upon my feet again; whatever may
have been my business, if it's distasteful
RI Won TIL crivo II nm Ts1l como horo