Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1883-02-14

land college, the conversation recalled some
of the friends of our younger days, and
he surprised mo with this remark "a
woman's sympathies lie nearer her heart
than her love, unless her love is born OF
them" But he surprised me still more by
the story he told to prove it.
l guess IL was seven years, he said, that
our chair of astronomy remained vacant.
You knew Of Dr. Merdon. 1t was justly that
the world finally gave him fame. Well, after
his death the trustees were at loss to fill
his place. A weak man would have been in
sufferable there.
Do you remember his family2 Charming
wife and daughter. They spent several
years abroad, after his death, and when
they returned, notwithstanding that the
widow still wore mourning, the number OF
our little social events was doubled. The
daughter had a string Of young millionaires
after her constantly. Female society, per
haps you know, wasn't unlimited, and 1T
was with foundation Of truth that the fel-
lows grimly joked about calling on the girls
their fathers had courted before them.
Charlotte Merdon was as fascinating girl
as her mother had been, so said the old
folks, and it was to her that young Pro-
Ib6SOT lSulL QuOtCu iiOhi AAoAoSSt Oht
daughter, more beautiful than thy beautiful
mother p when he brought down on him
self the ridicule of the mountain-day party
Yes, she could have had her pick from a
dozen very rich boys, and think she would
have taken it, too, If she hadn't discovered
that her mother was trying to influence her
in their favor.
At the senior party that year, Charlotte
held her court, as she did everywhere. She
was surrounded. | remember, by the rich
fellows of Charlie Elliott's set. Elliott was
happy that night. Charlotte had been un-
usually gracious, and her mother had made
her favor clearer than ever.
Over ear the door sat the last man to be
expected at a presidents party, Brent Sey-
mour. He was senior the year before, and
taking postgraduate study at the observa-
tory Merdon had built shortly before his
death,-a town boy, who supported his
mother and worked his way through college,
not often seen in society, and his ill-htting
clothes and embarrassed manner attested it.
Elliott, looking about the room for sub
| ject for his next brilliant remark to Miss
Merdon, caught sight Of him.
ed" said he, turning TO his chum, "1
tell you what will be great sport. Bring
Seymour up and formally introduce him to
Miss Merdon. 1t will confuse him. He
won't know what to do, and therell be a
deuce of a scene"
The chum complied and in momeut had
the reluctant Seymour by the arm. The
scene that followed must have been all that
Elliott desired. For moment the poor
student stood before the belle. 1t was not
unlike the tabeau of the beggar and the
princess. Her easy attitude contrasted
strangely with his painful awkwardness,
Elliott had not miscalculated. The effect
was immediate. All eyes were turned
toward the couple and smile went around
Charlotte Merdon saw it, and her cheeks
famed. She had OWNED the heartiess joke
To the surprise of those about her she
begged Seymour to be seated, d,--insisted that
he should be seated. Then she tried tc
draw him into the conversation. But it was
impossible. Embarrassment seemed to have
driven his wits away. Only one remark he
ventured. Glancing at a portrait on tht
wall, he stammered out, That's good pic
ture of the president" The portrait wa
one taken thirty years before and was any
thing but good likeness OF the president al
he then appeared. The unfortunate remarl
caused another smile. Elliott was delighted
His Joke was splendid success. Poor Sey
|
his head. His discontinue was complete.
Miss Merdon took deliberate look a
the picture, and did not smile. "Yes," sh
said, ait is called very good likeness o
. him Just after graduation. Have you see
the presidents flowers, Mr.. SEYMOUR lie
me show them to you"
Rising, and excusing herself, she led tn
, young man into the greenhouse, adjoinin
the parlor.
"The devil ~ said Elliott. al didn
} look for anything like that"
Seymour, rescued in this way from hi
\ trying ordeal, hardly knew what to say @
, do. He felt as if milestone had been take
l from his neck. The pain and the manne
, of relief worked strangely on his sensitiv
| nature. He felt that he was in great det
to his companion. He wanted to kiss th
3 hem of her garment. He wanted to or.
: He knew he was feeling and acting like
t fool He expected that he should make
s greater fool Of himself than in the parlo
3 But some way he didn't care. He had lo'
- all fear of the beautiful girl. Her act {
mercy had brought her nearer than years {
acou aintance could. He talked rapidly {
the flowers, for he knew of them, and Cha
!, lotte listened, listened wondering why sh
. cared to listen, little thinking that her syn
. psthy had brought the awkward studel
!. nearer than he would have been had 81
known him half her lifetime and new
a seen him in pain. So when he pointed oil
to her the observatory where he worke
q the queerly shaped building that showed
a dark outlines in the moonlight, just ov'
. the campus on the hill, she wondered viii
y it was that prompted her to beg him to tai
= her there, to exact promise from him tina
q on the very next evening, he would condu
- her through the building, that had bee
"a built after her fathers orders. She pc
=, :, suaded herself that it was desire to s.
a some manuscripts of her fathers whiC
4 Seymour told her had been left there, Pc
,e haps it was. -,
y Notwithstanding her mothers mild r
monstrance, tke next evening found h
with Brent Seymour in the telescope roo
of the observatory. The roof had been
, down and she was watching the stars.
- 70 az wonder if father often studied the
~ from this room," she said.
~ "Whenever the sky was clear"
to 81 wonder If he can see them now."
10 "No, ! think that through some one
20 them he is looking at u.s."
3 Far from science and astronomy, far, We
~ far, from his scholarly standpoint the MAJ
= childish reply had taken him but IL had CT
:, ~ ried him nearer the heart of the girl than
~ dreamed.
N Mrs. Merdon's disapproval of her dsue
y, ter's visit TO the observatory with Seymo
no broadened into anger as his calls were
;r peated, and repeated often. An intima
a. grew between the young people that, even
themselves, they did not undertake to {
plain. The girls friendship had opened
new world to the hard-worked student. III
-, he known more of life, he would have kno'
Ill that he was falling in love. Over the ott
'r- a secret was stealing as steadily as con
g. over us the morning A month had pass
re since the senior party. The two sat ags
US in the telescope room. She seemed to
no studying the stars.
~ "And do you remember" she was askiI
NJ "tha,, that evening, you thought throu
IN some one of them father was looking at us
q, "Yes."
IN "Do you suppose he can see us now 7"
OF "Yes" Tin surprised way).
eo "Then" (hesitatingly) ado you think
is glad,-is glad to see us together ?"
,s "Won't you" (the voice was very hush
40 40 =" won't you answer for me 2"
en 'aa "Yes," she said in voice clear as hi
"a chord, " | know he is"
Nv Seymour wondered If his senses were 6
ing way. He hardly knew what follow
He meant to ask-he tried TO ask II :
lie didn't think her father would be glad TO
nd them always together. Somehow Il
seemed long and heavy and he could
make the words come. He had a ohoki