Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1883-05-11

Lady M6nteagle gave a fete at her
villa at Putney. Mr.. and Mrs. Neville
were there of course. Florence had an
exquisite boquet but she saw Lord
Clyde advancing toward her; therefore
she prudently dropped it into the CEN
ter of a large myrtle bush.
"You have not boquet, Miss Neville"
was ore of his lordship's first remarks,
''are you not fond of flowers?'
eyes, passionhtely," said Florence.
"but / have lost mine. / am sorry,
for I fear shall not find another go
beautiful"
"Will you allow me to endeavor to
supply its place with this?" was the in
slant reply.
Florence smiled and blusAed as she
took it; the smile was art, but the
blush was nature, for she could not
help it. Lord st. Clyde's eyes we're
fixed on her face, aud the next mo-
ment she found herself walking with
him while Mr.. Neville was speaking to
the hostess, whose gaunt daughter was
looking very spiteful. Florence played
her part to admiration. Lord st.
Clyde was in her power, for she bad
engaged him in an animated Irritation.
They were standing on the brink of q
beautiful fountain, when the earl ex-
claimed:
'Do you know the language of
flowers. Miss Neville?"
"No," said Florence, "but it must be
very pretty; do you know it, my lord?'
eyes, by heart"
"Then tell me what these flowers
meanp exclaimed the beauty quite in
nocentiy, as she offered him his bcquet,
which was composed of a white rose, a
pink rosebud, some myrtle and one gera.
mum. The earl nesitated ana laughed,
then suddenly recovering himself, he
said: "Tney speak il their simple Ian
guagc the sentiment that | dare not III
words express!"
Florence felt her heart beating, but
she only laughed; that laugh encourag-
cd the earl. Florence forgive me if
"Ah, Miss Neville, have been look
ing for you everywhere, and here you
are, all alone" cried one of Florence's
gay trains, the elegant Sir Percy Hope.
''Oh, no; not Alone" cried one of
Florence's gay train, the elegant Sir
Percy Hope.
"Oh, no; not alone" said Florence,
rather annoyed, "Lord st. Clyde-why,
where is"
The earl Was gone.
"Florence, did Lord st. Clyde propose
to day?' sad Emma to her cousin in
the evening.
"Not quite, but as nearly IS possible
I declare | will never speak to Sir
Percy Hope againl"
Time! time Can Eothing stay thee?
The season was passing rapidly, and
Florence had had four proposals; of
course she had refused them, although
they had not been rendered by the
earl of st. Clyde. Sill she said: "He
shall PROPOSE" until the last opera of
the season.
Pale, languid, but delicately beauti.
full and petted, Florence leaned back in
her box, deaf to the strains of the
syren Grisi, regardless of the adulation
around her, and disguised with every
thing in the shape of gaiety. She
leaned back in her chair and closed
her eyes for a second. On opening
them she saw pair of dark eyes fixed
with more than common earnestness
on hor face. 1t was Lord st. Clyde
those wild eyes could only belong to
him. What possessed Florence at that
moment? She did not bow; she did
not smile; she merely bent forward and
whispered the word of departure to
her chaperon; then winding her cash
mere around her, she placed her arm
within That Of Sir Percy Hope and left
the box.
The next morning Florence was
really unweIl She said mot at home"
to everyone, and began to tune her
harp. String after string gave way as
she drew them up.
Like me, poor harp" she sighed,
"you are sinking. spelling from ne
glect."
Suddenly the door opened and Wis
itor was announced.
"Not at home," said Florence, hast
lily.
pardon me, tor once | disobey,"
said y voice, and Lord St. Clyde enter
ed. He continued: 81 have intruded,
| confess but it is only foI moment.
| come, Miss Neville, to with you--to
bid You long -.and perhaps llst
farewell"
FAREWELL" said Florence, dropping
her harp key: "this resolution has been
taken quite suddenly, has it nol?'
'No," replied the earl; Il am going
to seek in Italy the happiness which
is denied me here"
"Italy" exclaimed Florence, turn.
ing her eyes like melting sapphires on
the earl-"dear, bright, sunny Italy
my own fair landw
SIS it yours, Miss NeyiIl,?" said st.
Clyde eagerly.
"Yes, my lord, Florence was my
birthplace, and my home for fourteen
happy years.
Lord st. Clyde paused-nothing is so
awkward rs pause in a tete--a-tete:
he felt this and quickly rousing HIM
self, he said hastily. s.Ss8
Il will not interrupt you any long
or. FAREWELL perhaps we may meet
again"
Perhaps we may-gooG-by," said
Florence, extending her hand it was
slightly, very slightly pressed, and she
was alone. For NOM ent, she felt as
if the past were dream; but, glanc
ing on the ground, she saw y white
glove-it Was the esrl'sl She turned
away, and leaning on the marble SLAB
of Il beautiful mirror, she gazed at the
faultess reflection of her face.
Beauty beautyl" murmured She
"paltry gift! since it could not win St.
Clyde" And burying that young face
in her hands she fairly burst into
passion of tears.
Florence! my dear, my idolizadw
said voice close to her. Sac turned,
With real, genuine, unsrtiticial shrek.
The earl Of st. Clyde was at her feet
"Well, Florence" said Emma Nevil-
lie to the countess of st. Clyde, one cay,
you must really give me lesson on
propOssls-how will you managed
your husband's--.each me your ART"
mo, no, you are quite mistaken"
laughed Florence; mo one could be
more surprised at St. Clyde's proposal
than ~, vs,>lf for I HoI r;ysp hin, I'm