The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1883-12-29

of stormy-haired madness and delight, came
back in her stead.
The reddest flame in the fire before him
could scarcely rival her pretty cheeks, while
all the glow that reveled there could not vie
with the flashing changes of her radiant face
and eyes. For one brief hour she was his
sweetheart again, and despite himself lie
felt strangely young once more, and there
was a flush in his face that hadn't been there
for years. His ~reveries kept her by his side,
put her warm hand in his and touched all
the landscape with beauty. Even as a boy
he was taller than she, and again he furtively
glanced down at the eyes that he could not
look into steadily, from sheer diffidence.
The taunts of the boys came back to his
ears, and he felt himself instinctively hest
tating whether to go on in the delirium OF
his youthful joy, or fly from her and JOIN
the riotous marauders who were Jealous of
his deSertion.
Everything came back, as old friends come
back. The incidents were all reproduced,
but were much nearer together than before.
The madcap idol of his earliest recollection
in one night changed to an older girl, and the
jealousy that once stung now maddened him.
The shrine that he had long loaded with APP
piles now bore trinkets of greater intrinsic
worth-bits of gold, articles of toilet, the
purpose of which even the favored maiden
puzzled over.
In this state of delirious transition from
girlhood to ~maidenhood, the magnetic at
traction that was once Enormously positive
became negative. Thu very same thing that
once drew him so strongly repealed
him; repealed yet held him.
As the metamorphosis came upon
him he only realized that there had been a
marvellous change somehow, but he could
not understand it. What was once boyish
difidence now became a positive torture.
He loouy chat ha liIaI hnr-lilrp1 horf She
could have crucified him and he would have
died blessing her, and grateful that she had
deigned to even hurt him.
But the same centrifugal force that had
sent him whirling off on a tangent was strong
to bring him back, and again he was dimly
conscious of approaching by spiral sweeps
laboriously long, and at times
contracting with such imperceptible
gradations as to almost drive him to mad
ness. At least he was nearly as close to the
miss as ever he had been to the maiden of
other days, and the crisis of the issue filled
him with feverish f%orebodings. Autumn
hardened into winter and winter melted into
spring, and still he temporized, until at last
one day, near the beginning of the summer
vacation, she burst upon him with a radiance
he had never seen before.
'Oh, Locke" she cried, 'have you heard
the news?'' and then. without waiting for him
to guess, she told him That in six weeks she
was going away to school to a young ladies'
seminary. In the ecstacy of her delight she
failed to note the shadow that settled in his
face, and she gaily ratified on of all the splen-
did things that were in store for her.
Locke listened s~tolidly, the while he was
choking with an underlined but stronghold
apprehension.
As he lay there in bed this morning he
thought Of all these things ard numberless
others. He remembered that in some way
L-- - - -A,,1l ,A@k tAII hA hnl urAD
on her during that briefest of summer vaca-
tions 50 that, at last. the week before sheleft
the VILLAGE to enter the school in which she
was to receive the finishing touches
of her education, he prevailed upon her to
wear a ring for him that had bankrupted
him to buy. He remembered how rich it
looked in its rest of velvet and satin, and
how, ~unaccountably, it looked cheap and of
little value when it was once on her finger,
pressed down close to the dimpled knuckle.
The While these pleasing recollections en-
gagged his mind, the fire licked up the kind
lings in a merry fashion, and the room was
bright, though cold. Then, with a sudden
p-chur-r-r. the kindlines were gone and the
last ftful blaze on the heavier sticks went
out, much to the disgust of the dreamer.
As he brought in a fresh supply of light
wood, and while shivering over the work of
building a new fire. he half-unconsciouslv
sneered as he recalled the * p%erience that
followed the parting between him and the
girl he loved,
A few letters came from her at intervals
during the first few weeks. all filled with bits
OF girlish experience in her new quarters,
and he may have been a tritie morbid, but he
thought he detected in them an intangible
something that sooner or later would place
an insurmountable barrier between them.
Week followed week, and month after month
slowly dragged along, until the summer
ceme again. Meanwhile the tardy letters
had come at rarer intervals, until at last he
was left to his own reflections, for none
came. "
Still, despite himself, he hoped; and got
out and conned over ell the little mementoes
he had saved for her sake Trihes that in
themselves would long since have been
swept into the fire or into the street. At
last one day word came that she would be
there on the afternoon train. The news, al
though not unexpected, drove him into a
fever. He walked & erywhere-walked hard,
but walked aim ,ssly; found himself
in unexpected ceS and was conscious
ly embarrassed wien anybody came upon
him. But he did not go to the train. He
intuitively knew better than to do that.
Later in the day he met her. Coming up
the street. he saw that she was much
more stylishly dressed han when she
went away; that she was naughty
and self-conscious. He had expected some
of this, but when she met him face to face
without visible emotion, and loudly extend
ed a broad welcome, the same that she had
given all she had encountered, there was
that in his heart that could have done muir
der. But the cruelest blow was given him
when she ostentatiously removed her glove
and let fash upon him the dazzle of a dia-
mond ring of a worth that he could not hope
to afford. As for his poor token, it was
nowhere to be seen.
His natural pride did him good service
here, for while his words were few he simu-
lated a smile and gave no outward sign Of his
emotions. He afterward found occasion to
ask that she return his ring, which
she finally did, after coquettishly protesting
that she wanted to keep it still, a pitiful bit
of hypocrisy that hurt him cruelty. She was
beautiful, yet, in his eyes, despite the arti-
fees that she employed to make her other
than she was; but far from holding malice
against her, Locke Wamsley, in his generous
l-.4 -s&.-l 10. ,,+;o1 10, Nd lO-nl -.