Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1882-04-27
ala BLONDE MEES."

"Pretty? No; but GENTLE. Figure
10 yourself une blonde Mees; and hair,
ali! a nymph, undulated, sparkling,
golden, MAGNIFICENT"
But not prettyg' 4
"Well, scarcely perhaps; but voice!
All! not little filet de voix, but voice
like silver bell-clear, sympathetic. -
"Shal | like sla blonde Mees P'"
"Like her, yes; love her, no; for she
has no fortune"
So far l had heard-overheard; let
me avow nv dishonorable action. But
Twas "la blonde Mees," and it was too
tempting an opportunity! The window
was open; / was outside, lazily enjoying
q dreamy siesta in the rose bower, when
heard the mummur of voices. My
godmother was talking of me, and the
deep, pleasant voice asking so many
Questions about my Insignificant self was
no other than her august nephew, the
son of her only sister, who had married
an Englisman-her favorite, Horace
Vernon. s'No fortune, indeed" re-
peated, softly, and then, clear as bell,
] struck up the old song: -
"My face is my fortune. sir, she said;
Sir, she said; sir, she said"
Over and over again, with every variety
of intonation,I sang the words. Sudden
ly / ceased. Instinctively felt he was
nearing the window and meditating q
descent in search of the singer. Hastily
lied; fear lent wings to my feet !; blind
ly I made a dash at the clipped yew
hedge and its labyrinthine paths, when
{ suddenly stumbled, and should have
u al h,,t Gov 10 hi
stretched to save me. Recovering my
self quickly, drew back with hasty dig
nifty and exclaimed in my best French,
Monsieur!''
He bowed. Mademoiselle, are you
hurt?" he said, managing to infuse much
tender solicitude into the words. Then
with a quick look at me, before I could
answer, he added: "Let me introduce
myself. am. Horace Vernon, and you
5 must be Miss Eugene Everard. / have
been hearing all about you from my
aunt
bowed and colored wildly. eyes!
La Blonde Mees, - could not help re-
torting with smile. .j u. -
"Ah! you overheard usp" he cried,
with a ludicrous expression of dismay.
-s-@ Anger and the demons of scoquetry
prompted me there and then to take off
my godmother, and I replied in her
voice; Like her, yes; love her, no;
The next moment felt awkward and
confused, for I had hardly realized the
meaning of the words. Mr.. Vernon
laughed.
ssWell, ''he said, ssI PROMISE
"Promise whatP''
aTo like you.''
He offered me well-shaped, brown
hand, into which, after a moments
hesitation, l put my own. The fingers
closed over it in a protecting clasp, and
could not but look up gratefully into
the handsome sun-burnt face and the
merry blue eyes gazing down upon nae,
as acknowledged the compact we were
making.
OF course my readers will have al
ready decided that I, Eugene Everard,
shall presently fall in love with Mr..
Horace Vernon; that he will recipro-
cate the tender feeling, and thereby
break his aunt's heart and upset all her
deeplyeaid plans. But the clear-sighted
reader does not know that I am turned
nineteen, and have passed those imports
ant years in the gay town of London,
where l have left an inconsolable lover
SCitdhi hcfcICuo uOUOtU buh-
combe, whose betrothal ring wear on
the orthodox finger, and whose photo
graph l have duly set in large golden
= locket, with the touching Greek words
A T.. l.. on one side, and an impossible
2 monogram of r. D. Z. E. in raised fill
gree on the other.
Robert is of saving nature, and has
limited our correspondence to three
times week, but he never allows q
day to pass without writing, and the
budget, when it does come, is daily,
journal of his uneventful life. He wished
: me to follow the same plan, but 1 am
1ot:of regular habits, and have declined
% do more than reply to the folies as l
receive them. So much for my side.
On the other there's q certain heiress
with very large dot (millions of
francs) destined for Mons Horace.
Bonne-maman particularly impressed
this uppn me when she told me she ex-
peeted her nephew atlDinard. = I have
not long since arrived from England, on
3 six months visit to Bonnie -maman, :
otherwise la -Contesse Eugene Refine
Marie d 'Harcourt, my mothers old
school friend and my godmother. 1 was
but sbaby when lost both my par
tefts. After my father, Col. Everard's
death, lived with my uncle, but mis-
fortune seemed tosclaim meas her own;
nv poor aunt died suddenly, and my
uncle. broken-hearted, drifted back into
an aimless state of .bachelorhood- felt
burden upon him. Eagerly he awaited