Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1883-08-17


marks but I was total stranger to Ware
and Ware people, and consequently could
neither talk nor listen to much purpose.
But | was Interested in observing Miss
Munson. She was nice person to observe,
for if she was conscious of being an object
of scrutiny she did not show it. Her eyes
never flashed up and met mine fixed upon
her with suddeuness startling and embar-
RAISING to both of US. / could stare Mt her
as gulelessly and properly as l could at
flower.
Indeed Miss Munson did make me think
of flower, and of one prevalent in her
front yard too "A lilac there was that same
dull bloom about her, and shy, antiquated
grace A lilac always does seem little old
er than some other flowers. Miss Munson,
come TO see her, was probably nearer fifty
than forty There were little lines and shad-
ows in her face that one could not discern
across the street. II seemed to me that she
| must have been very lovely in her youth,
| with that sort OF loneliness which docs not
| demand attention, but holds il with no effort.
| Au exquisite, delicate young creature, she
| ought to have been, and had bceu, unless her
present appearance told lies
Lilac seemed to be her favorito color for
| gowns, for she wore that afternoon delicious
| old fashioned lilac muslin that looked as If 1t
| had been laid away in lavender every winter
for the last thirty years. The waist was cut
surpica fashion, and she wore a dainty lace
| handkerchief tucked into it, Take it alto
| gether | suppose | never spent a peasanter
| afternoon in my life although it was pleas
ant in quiet, uneventful sort of way.
| There was an atmosphere of gentle grace
and comfort about everything about Miss
| Muuson, about the room, and about the
lookout from the high, deep.seated windows.
| There was not one vivid tint in that parlOr
everything had the dimnoss of age over it.
| All the brightness was gone out of the car
pct Large, Phadowy figures sprawled over
| the floor, their indistinctness giving them the
| suggestion of grace, and the polish on the
| mahogany furniture was too dull to reflect
the light. The gilded scrolls on the wall
! paper no longer shone, and over some OF the
| old engravings on the walls a half-transpar-
ent film that looked like mist had spread.
| Outside, cool green shadow lay over the
garden, and soft lazy pufF5 of lilac.scented
air came in at the windows. Oh, it was all
| lovely, and it was so little trouble to enjoy
it,
/ liked the tea which came later, too. The
| dining room was as charming in its way as
the parlor, large aud dark and solid, with
some beautiful quaint pieces of furniture IN
it. The china was pink and gold and fan
cied to myself that Miss Monson's grand
mother had spun the table-linen and put it
away in a big chest, with rose leaves between
the folds l do believe the surroundings and
the circumstances impaired a subtle flavor to
everything tasted, which gave riso to some
| thing higher than mere gustatory delight or
maybe 1t was my mood; but it certainly
seemed to me that had never enjoyed tea
so much before.
After that day Miss Munson and became
very well acquainted. got in the habit of
running over there very often she seldom
| 10 MI II tapitlv undeFgtOn1
between Us that it was pleasanter for me TO
to do the visiting.
do not know how she felt toward mel
think she liked me-but l began to feel an
exceeding even a loving interest in her All
that | could think of sometimes when with
| her was person walking in garden aud
| getting continually delicious little sn'tf5 OF
yoets, so that he certainly knew they were
near him. although they were hidden some
where under the leaves. and he could not see
| them There would not be day that Miss
Munson would not say things that were SO
many hints OF a rare little sweetness and
beauty of nature, which her shyness aud qui-
! etness did not let appear all at once.
She was rather chary always of giving very
bread glmpses of herself. l was always
more or less puzzled and evGied by her,
though she was evidently sincere child
like woman, with liking for simple pleas
ures She took genuine delight in picking a
little bunch of flowers in her garden for
neighbor, and in giving those little tea par
ties. She was religious in an innocent un-
| questioning way, too. l oftener than not
found an open Bible near her when l came
in, and she talked about praying as simply as
one would about breathing
But the day before left Ware sho told me
a very peculiar story, by which she displayed
| herself to me all at once in fuller light, al
] 0I,,t,,,I ba rayaa1aH such "A pIarQpt tlat
was, in Que way none the less puzzled. She
and were sitting in her parlor. She was
feeling sad about my going, and perhaps that
led her to confde in me. Anyway, she
looked up, all at once, after little silence.
DO you" she said believe in dreams p
That is question l can't answer truth
fully, l replied, laughing. 81 don't really
know whether l believe in dreams or not
II don't know either" she said, slowly
and she shuddered little. 81 have mind
to tell you, she went on, ''about a dream l
had once, and about something that happened
to me afterward. / never did tell any one,
and believe l would like to. That is, if you
would like to have me, " she added, rs tmidly
as a child afraid OF giving trouble.
assured her that l would, and, after lit
tie pause, she told me this
II was about twenty y-two," she said, land
father and mother had been dead one four,
with Margaret, as l have ever since have
thought sometimes that it was my living alone
so much, and not going about with other girls
more, that made me dream as much as did,
but don't know. / used always to have a
great many Dreams and some of them seem
ed as if they must mean something but this
particular one, in itself and in it's effect on my
after-life, was very singular.
"It was in spring, and the lilacs were just
-, bIOOn, xuhaU I draamad II I thOupht
was walking down the road there under the
elm trees l had ON lilac muslin gown, and
/ carried basket of flowers on my arm
They were mostly white, or else the very
fainlest pink-lilies and roses, l had gone
down the street a little way, when l saw {
young man coming toward me. He had oil
} a broad. .brimmed soft hat and velvet coat
and carried something that looked odd undei
his arm, When he came nearer | could SEE
that he had a handsome dark face, and tina
, he was carrying an artists easel. When h'
, reached me he stopped and looked down int
; my face and then at my basket of flowers.
l stopped tool could not seem to help it il
, my dream-and gazed down at the ground
1 was afraid to look at him, and trembe'
go that the lilies and roses in my basket quiv
cred.
e ''Finally he spoke. Won't you give IN
. one of your flowers, he said-just one ?
= II gathered courage to glance up at hin
/ then, and when his eyes met mine it did seen
r to me that wanted to give him one of thos
!, flowers more than anything else in the world
= 1 looked into my basket, and had my finger
S on the stem of the finest lily there, whe
, something came whirring and tanning by m
face and settled on my shoulder, and when
l. turned my head with my heart beating loud
o there was a white dove.
t. 'But somehow, ! seemed in my dream
It forget all about the dove in minute, and
l looked away into the young mans face agaiI
a and lifted the lily from the basket as did 81
n "But his face did not look to me as it di
10 before, though still wanted to give him th
Is lily Just as much l stood still, gazing at hin
l. for a moment; there was, in my dream,
d sort of fascination over me which would NJ
ID let me take my eyes from him. As l gaze
3. his face changed more and more to me, till
a nally-I can not explain tit looked at ono
ul beautiful and repulsiSe. l wanted at once
III give him the lily and would have died rath
III than give it to him, and l turned and he
a with my basket of flowers and my dove {
I'd my shoulder, and great horror of somethin
~ did not know what, in my heart. Then
woke up all of a tremble"
k, Miss Munson stopped. "What do you thiI
ct of the dream ?" she said, in a few minute