Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1882-08-04
Twenty years ago, sweetheart. -

y
As Daphne Mccarthy spoke these
words she looked into the face of the mar
she loved 30 we'll, and the dimpled arm
whose pearly whiteness and beautiful
rounded curves shone so bewitchingly
through the soft, heecy dress that the
girl wore, clung more trustingly than even
to that of George w. Simpson. The day
was indeed beautiful One-symphony
of sound, and light, and scent. Up from
the maple trees came the sweet voices OF
the birds twittering to each other from
newly-built nests amid boughs that sway,
ed to and fro in the wind and shook theil
latest buds into leaf and blossom. From
far below came n murmuro of waves break
ing softly on shingly beach, and, ming.
ling with this murmur, the shouts and
laughter of the fisher lads as they sport.
ed in the waters. The dim fragrance, and
dappled lights, and pleasant sounds made
a threefold JOY to Daphne as she stood
beneath the trees that June morning with
her lover by her side. She stood on q
part of the slope whence the trees had
drawn back little, and the light fell
about her just beyond the verge OF the
shadow. Round her feet were dead
leaves and living flowers, and soft, green
MOSES full of the sweet rain that had
fallen the previous night. With one
hand she shaded her eyes, the other was
uplifted to bend back branch which
had barred the open space. Her hail
was blown in brown cloud about the
girlish face, and the hazel eyes shone Will
a wistful look beneath the shading hand
Standing in the centre of the little dell
into which the girl was looking was ,
stately marble shaft around whose bas,
the violets and pansies were clustering
and showing by their presence that low
ing hands had placed them there. Fol
an instant Daphne did not speak, but
the tears that trickled down her cheek
told oil two plainly of the grief that wa
racking her young breast. Finally sh,
turned to George, and, smiling through
her tears, placed her head contidingly OF
his shoulder and seemed perfectly con
tent.
as is not strange, darling" she said
''that can never look on the grave O.
my mother-that mother whom I neve
saw, and who yielded up her young lif,
when l was born-without sense of bit
ter grief and desolation. Twenty year
ago to-day, sweetheart. she died. 1t is
the girl smiled.
"Yes, my pet, replied George, "Gold
smith Maid was colt then," and, bend
ing down his shapely head with its coro
nal of shoe-brush hair, he kissed the
little rosebud mouth. Then pressing thu
1.-the form more closely to him, he spok,
with grave tenderness that showed how
much his words meant of subject thai
was very near to his young heart:
"But though your mother be dead
Daphne" he said, "you have still my
love to comfort and uphold you Ant
can You not speak now, darling, here be
side that mothers grave, the words tina
will make me happy for life? Will you
not promise me that when the autumn
comes you will crown my life with tn,
halo of your love and become my wife p
For moment the girl was silent, look
ing down and twining nervously around
her fingers the tendril of a rose that sh,
had plucked from bank OF the scarle
beauties that blossomed near the grave.
"Will you marry me, Daphne" asket
George again.
Still no answer.
~ can not bear this silence, sweetheart
indeed l can not" exclaimed the youn,
man, his pallid face betokening the tens
agony from which he suffered. "Yol
must end this terrible suspense in som,
way. Tell me truly, Daphne, do yol
love me?"
Placing her arms about his neck IN,
looking into his face with eyes from whic
the glad light of love was streaming
Daphne said to him in tones that thrille,
his very blood
81 should gasp to gurgle. "-Fro'
None oct Away," by Murat Ha
stead.