The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1882-01-12


scarlet wooden comforter in her hand.
"Lcok, Uncle Davy,'' she called ont
in a sweet, gay voice; "Tve finished
your muller at last-just in time for the
snowy weather.
Hid behind wide old pillar. 1 listened
with much interest, as the old man ex-
pressed his delighted thanks.
"But how am / to get it across to
you?" the girl went on. 81 know your
rheumatism won't allow you to come for
it, and the snow would be over my shoe
tops"
As the dilemma remained unsolved 1
stepped from my hiding-place and offered
myself as Uncle Davy's messenger. Ac-
cordingly descended the steps and
crunching the untrodden snow beneath
my feet, crossed over and approached
the young lady. As looked up at her
observed that though she was standing
in the same attitude. holding the scarf
in her hand marked change had come
over her face, which now looked pro-
foundly amazed.
AS approached her, however, she
responded very prettily to my bow, and
when swept off my hat with fiattering
deferentialness and explained that I'm
Gle Davy had intrusted me with the
honored mission of bringing him his
scarf, she handed it to me with very
becoming flush and smile, and thanked
me with a demure courtesy.
l did not feel at all like turning my
back upon her and returning to the vi
cinity of the old hotel, but there was
nothing else to be done; so l replaced
my hat and found my way over to I'm
Gle Davy and delivered the scarf. The
old man received his present with the
greatest delight, and after vociferously
shouting his thanks across the street,
turned and entered the house for the
purpose, as he explained, of exhibit
ing the scarlet trophy. AS he vanished
down the narrow hall, heard him call
out:
"Wife, where are you? Come and see
the pretty present Miss Nelly Temple
has sent me-
Miss Nelly Temple! Here was sur
prise. l remembered now that l had
heard him call her Miss Nelly, but 1
had been so engrossed at the time that
the name had not struck me, and had,
for the moment, forgotten the existence
of my melancholy young high-tragedy
authoress. How could she possibly be
Identical with that piquant little beauty
yonder? And l raised my eyes to draw
the contrast, only to discover that she
had disappeared.
| | heSitated for moment as to my
course, but as recalled the very CRATE
full and admiring tone of her last letter
to me, which had convinced me at the
time of Its receipt that she had put me
on a pedestal along with Emerson,
Holmes and Longfellow, I thought I
might venture to take a decisive step; so,
without more ado, took my way again
across the street, and, walking boldly up
the steps, knocked at the door. As I
did so l caught sight of some scarlet
ribbons screened behind the muslin cur
tains of the window going on the porch,
which now, however, quickly dSap-
peared. Then l could hear, where 1
stood, whispered conference in the
hall, and then, in a minute more, the
door was opened, not very wide, by a
negress, who regarded me rather wrath
fully as l said, composedly:
81 want to see Miss Nelly Temple, if
you please"
"Well, you can't see her then, sah,"
was the prompt reply.
why not??' l asked, quietly.
"Cause she says you'll have to ex-
cuse her. You can't see her," she re-
peated, with emphasis. 1t was clear
that she resented my visit as an intru-
sion and felt called upon to protect her
young mistress.
But am very anxious to see her."
l said, urgently. Take her my card"
Iproduced one and handed it to her.
She looked at it doubtfully moment,
then took it from me with a ierky mo-
ton, saying, in an audible undertone:
''She ain gwine come,' and disap-
peared with it.
And now the notes of another voice
smote upon me clear and low, but ex-
pressive of subdued resentment.
Il don't care to see the card" it
said. l cannot see the gentleman; he
must excuse me-
Then there was seconds pause, dur
ing which, as l shrewdly expected, dig
nifty gave way to curiosity and my card
was examined. And sure enough, the
next moment. little Miss Dignity APP
peared before me, covered with bushes,
holding my card.
Are you really Mr.. Julian Moore?'
she said. Il beg your pardon, but I
had no idea of it. You must have
thought me rude"
Having assured her of my identity and
called up in her bonny face fresh
phalanx of dimples, 1 followed her into
the parlor.
Il thought it was some one stopping
at the hotel whom l did not know, and
felt almost frightened; and was rude.
I'm afraid. You have been so very kind
about taking the time to answer my let
tiers that l am ashamed to have given
you such a reception
She addressed me with so much awed
respect that l experienced something of
the sensation of literary lion, for the
first and probably the last time in my
life, and set myself at once to the task
of putting her at ease. Inquired about
the story and expressed deep anxiety
as to its ultimate appearance in print,
assuring her that it needed only a little
thoughtful revision to make it shining
success, thereby undoing all my earnest
ly-laid plot to discourage her from writ
ing more, which 1 had subtly introduced
into my letters. saw that she listened
with delighted surprise, and I waxed
more and more eloquent, expressing and
certainly feeling ten times the emotion
and enthusiasm that talk with George
Eliot would have inspired. twas de-
licious to call up such a happy light into
those lovely eyes and such a confused
pleasure to the sweet voice that responded
to me. l was playing the idiot, but
had completely lost my head. After
long talk she explained, with much hes
itation, that she would be obliged to get
ready for church, as she played the organ
and must not be late, and when asked,
feeling strange timidity myself, whether
l might be allowed to accompany her,
she told me the church was several miles
away and that an uncle and aunt who
lived in the country would call for her
in their rockaway.
But wouldn't sleigh do as well as
rockaway?" l asked, delightful