The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1882-12-07

RosamoDd read ~ the newspaper he de
partars Tor Enrope Of both her own AMI
Mabel's lover. and smiled and aghed eve
N the changes Of the ps
month Gradually rumors reached her o
the rupture Of Philips engagement sh'
vas FAR from guessing her share 10 ,h'
Transaction. nor dreamed that ia the sud
den revulsion from conveniionality ant
coldncss that Philip Blount was feeling on
that eventual morning. the contrast OF hel
own charming smile and warm cordia
/ helpfninass did more than any one thing Il
make him burst the fet,er that chained
him. Their aclusintence bad been slight
though friendly, hut now a certain anus
ed sympathy grew up 10 her mind--ths
feeling that they had unconsciously acted
upon each others fates. and had, SO 70
speak. been in the same scrape. She fell
a. we'll as II she could SEQ il. the sense Of
freedom with which he had left his native
country. Soreness, mortidcatson, even
regret, he might feel, but through all and
ovcrmastsring all. that realization OF es-
cape from what would in time have bsen
iutolerablc. Did she not know Were
not her o. heart and life expanding M
der the same influence?
You will never marry now. her mother
said, halt impatient at Rosamond's decis-
ion.
And she replied blithely; Do you really
think SO, dear mamma? ] am so glad
Without love or romance life may pass
happily; and months OF busy spring, soft
summer holidays and autumn lingerings at
the seaside passed over Rosamond's bright
head, aud each season found her happier.
She had youth and health, interests and
steady industry, so that every thing that
presented itself, or leisure, study or exer.
else, nature or art, found her responsive
to its call. Time flew on rapid wings. and
brought once more the white pail Of win
ter and the icy blast-that outer desolation
which only makes warm fires glow the
brighter and young pulses beat the quick.
er. in the contrast between the death Of
nature and the intense life OF heat and
home.
Once more upon an icy morning Rosa
mond ventured forth, this time with
basket which she wished to carry to one Of
the hospitals. 1t was visiting day, and
she was much interested in patient "a
poor seamstress, who in her time Of health
had spent many long day in Rosamonds
coy bedroom, had borrowed many book,
and enjoyed afterward talking over what
she had read with her young lady. whose
kindness was one Of few bits OF sunshine
in limited life.
Poor Mary thought pretty Rosamond.
She shan't wait for her wine and flowers.
Tho wall<Eill do me good, But il | could
only hide tbis basket! | do 80 despisc
looking goody. She pulled at her warm
cloak. and tried to adjust fold over the
basket; but in vain. 1t was more conspicu-
Gus than ever in its furry surroundings,
while her manifest desire TO conceal II gave
i certain guilty look 10 ner nnooent bar.
den.
Why will not young people look where
they are going? Never was step more
fearless and free, and therefore more safe,
thah Rosamond yane's; but the one mo-
ment of accident or awkwardness comes to
all in its appointed time. She was still
bending her head, and twisting her seal
skin. when suddenly everything flew out
Of her hands, her basket went of on q tan.
gent, her muff landed in the gutter, and
she found herself fat on the pavement,
for the first time that one does
not lave TO go down into well to see
stars by daylight.
She tried to struggle up, when suddenly
, strong hand raised and held her, and a
voice not very well known, but well re.
exclaimed, 1t is my turn to
help you, now.
With flush OF annoyance Rosamond
shook out her skirts. Strengthened her hat,
lad put the hair out Of her eyes; then,
looking up. met Philip Blount's quizzical
glance, and burst into a peal OF laughter.
II is too funny. she gasped, as they
shook hands, and he rescued her muti, aud
picked up her basket. But its contentsp
Jelly, wine, and flowers mingled Their
,weetness; and Westward, Ho! plassered
With snow and sickness, looked as #
I were flowing with milk and honey. The
treet was as deserted as on former oc-
,asion; but Philip felt as he gathered the
,roken glass and the dripping rosebuds.
hat the man who could walk up any New
FORK street carrying that wretched basket,
,ould storm breach or lead a forlorn
rope. Balaklava was nothing TO it--noth-
ngl
However, every man can be hero II he
chooses. Alarms length he held his drips
,ing burden; then turned gayly to Rosa
nond and said, Will you take my arm
,nce more?
Rossmond was not hurt, not even much
haken, after the first moment; but she
ook his arm and turned homeward Mary
must wait till another day; there was no
Use in going to the hospital now. When
lid you return? she asked.
Only yesterday. This is my first walk
a New York. ! was just thinking Of my
asst one, aud Of you. when you precipitated
matters so unexpectedly. Aie you sure