Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1883-04-08
MONICA.
BY Ths,Auihor Of "PhyIIls," mrs.
6soffrsy," Etc.

To anyone coming direct from all
the luxury and beauty Of the old Court
above, naturally this little cottage room
looks small and poverty stricken, yet
there is a pathetic tenderness about 1t,
too. born ola woman's banda touch
of gentle refinement that shows itself
in the masses of Old World flowers,
carelessly and artistically put together
that adorn the one table and the two
brackets, filling all the tiny apartment
with their subtle perfume.
The windows, opening to the ground
are thrown wide open. Outside, the
garden lies painting in the sunshine.
There is the sad lowing as Of many
COWS in the far distance. All the land
lies quivering in its heat. A faint USE
less little breeze comes lazily into the
room, ruffling the ancient curtains that
are drawn closely together in vain
effort to exclude the sun.
Poor Mr.. Norwood, with praise
worthy defamation to seem quite the
contrary, is looking the very picture of
misery. He has been dragged from his
sanctum and his beloved "Aldines,
Bodonis, Elzevirs," to interview, or
rather be interviewed by fashionable
young man fresh from town, who,
though his nephew, is to him an utter
stranger.
Conversation for the last five minutes
has been growing more and more lam
guild. Now it threatens to cease alto
gether. The host is at his wits end,
the fashionable young man is looking
distinctly bored. 1t is therefore with a
glance full Of rapture, and nobly sup
pressed sigh of relief, that Mr.. Norwood
hears step upon the gravel outside,
that comes quickly nearer.
1t is-it must be-Monica, to the res
cue!
Now one of the windows is darkened;
a figure stepping airily from the bright
sunshine beyond to the room withiD,
parts the Curtains with both hands. and
gazes inquiringly around.
AT her glance falls upon the strange
young man, it alters from expectation
10 surprise-not confusion, or embarrisS-
ment of any kind, but simple, honest
surprise, visitors at the cottage being
few and far between, and as a rule eX-
ceedingly i'll to look at.
The strange young man returns her
gaze with generous interest, aud sur
prise that OutdOes her own. For full
half minute she so stands with the cur
in her hard, and then she advances
slowly.
She is dressed in a gown of Oxford
shirting-very plain, very inexpensive.
1t has little full baby body that some
how suits wonderfully the grave child
ish face above it with its frame of light
brown hair so like the color of an I'M
ripe chestnut. Her eyes are blue as the
heavens above her; her mouth, tritie
large lperhaps, but very serious, and
very sweet. One can not but believe
laughter possible to her, one cannot
also but believe she has found self-com-
munion on many occasions solace
and solemn joy.
"Come here, Monica, and let me
make you known your cousin, George
Norwood" sayshe father very proud.
". The pride is all concentrated in his
daughter. In his soul he deems king
would be hOnored by such an intraduc-
ton.
At this, she comes closer, and places
a small slim hand in her Cousins.
81 should have known, of course"
she says, as though following out GER
tain train of thought. 81 heard you
had come to the Court"
"You must be good friend with him,
Monica" says Mr.. Norwood nervOusly.
"He is your only cousin, you knOw-ex-
Hpt Julia"
"Yes:-she is smiling now-"we
shall be friends of cOursew Then more
directly to the man who is still holding
her hand, as though he has actually
forgotten it is in his possession. "As
my father likes you, it follows that j
shall like you too"
"Ahm says George Norwood, with
an answering smile that renders his
face quite beautiful, Then owe your
father debt of gratitude | shall not
easily repay"
Mr.. Norwood has been getting nearer
and nearer to the door by fine degrees.
Monica, without steming to notice this,
says gently:
"GO back to your books, papa. will
take care of-Of-my COUSIN"
At this Mr.. Norwood beats thankful
retreat, leaving the two young people
alone,
"Why did you hesitate just nowm
asks George suddenly. She has seated
herself on a very ancient sofa, and is re-
garding him thoughtiully.
"Whenm
"Over my name"
because / didn't quite know what
to call you. Your being my cousin
does does not prevent your being a
perfect stranger-and q stranger / sup
pose, ought To be called Mr.. Norwood"
"Ifyou call me that, shall be I'M
happy forever" says George Norwood.
Besides, you can't, you know, because
| shall certainly meyer call you any
thing but Monica"
"Oh. at that rate" says she, smiling
again.
Presently as he stands upon the
hearth-rug, he lifts his eyes and fastens
them upon portrait that hangs above
the chimney-piece.
"What charming facew he says
"Wbat q compleXion-ande yesw
ayes, it is lovely! 1t is my grand
mother. Don't you think the mouth
and nose like papa's%'
1.-THE very imagew says George Nor
wood. He doesn't think it q bit, but
seeing she plainly expects him to say it,
he does his duty like man. at is a
perfect face! But the eyes-they are
your own surely"
"Are they? Do you know ] never
look at that picture without feeling bet
ter?"
She laughs as she says this in way
that precludes the idea that acrimony
of any sort could belong to her.
at was the only thing my grand
father left papa. He made particular
point of it in his will, that it should be
given to him. When he had carefully
cut him off to a shilling, he bestowed
upon him an oil painting; wasn't it
muniticent? The eldest sons portion
to be mere portrait! while the second
and third sons children should enheri.
alp
Then. as remembrance comes to her,
ha ra,1I ar.s onI o,rnu,, Cor f1,n rSf mo