The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1883-10-17

to ENJOY at the time. Tor the rest,
young, and full of warmest instincts
of enthusiasm, they felt themselves
to be outside any circle of gay lite
about them, and were doubly home
sick in consequence.
Spring fioated up to Barbara Will
liams. At the open window, from
the wealth of roses in the Counts
garden, spring beamed down on her
from the pure Italian sky, bending
to horizon of hills, stepped in the
delicate haze of early heat. Beyond
the palace garden flowed the Arno,
spanned by the bridge, and on the
opposite bank rose the Uffizi build
ings, and that matchless cluster of
towers, the Badia, the shaft of the
Palazza Vecchio, Glotto's Campanile,
with the purple dome of the cathe
dral behind, while Flesole rose on
her cone of hill in the background.
She wrapped the straw hat in a
neat brown paper and went out, de-
scending swiftly the stone steps.
The first floor, the piano mobile. of
the Italian palazzo, was occupied by
a foreign gentleman of wealth and
leisure. The Count and Countess,
fallen on evil days of exhorbitant
taxation and a new railway system
which drains Italy even of eggs,
wherewith to make plum puddings
the more for London or Manchester,
dwelt on the ground floor. The
Countess abated nothing of her
splendor. She drove out daily in
gorgeous carriages; her liveries were
always fresh her toilets were varied
and startling with preponderance
of color. She excluded tenants from
the garden by means OF an iron gate
in the vestibule surmounted by a
gilded coronet. The Count was un-
derstood not to frequent the club
any more of an evening when play
is apt to run hign.
A naughty, somewhat stormy
browed lady, she now swept out of
the door. attended by footman
clad in a blue coat with red facings,
and a yellow waistcOat, like that of
a wasp. She made slight inclina-
ton of the head to genteel Barbara
Williams, and passed on. the
Countess was a woman of the world,
but bow could she divine that Bar
bara was so soon to be a rival? The
latter went forth on her errand on
foot. while the Countess rolled away
in her coupe. As il happened, the
mind of each lady was intent on
spring hat, with this notable differ
ence: the countess was prepared to
add such trifie to the very long bill
run up at her milliners, while Bar
bara was equally ready to pay on
the spot for all purchases with the
promptness which has so truly en-
deared the American 10 the foreign
shop keepers.
In the first little square Barbara
was caught in the eddy Of popular
demonstration, where musical bands
brayed, bankers waved, and the
guilds of cab drivers, banners, shoe
makers or cooks met to form pro-
cession. She paused moment near
the stand of a vender of cooling
drinks. his little cart gay with red
cloth hangings and FURNISHED cans.
A small boy, with an expression OF
owlish precocity, dropped the copper
coins received in payment into a
great earthen dish used to rinse
glasses, thus adapting it as till. |
Then Barbara was pursued by vari-
Gus flower merchants, their baskets
freighted with pink hyacinths, tu-
lips, and great plumes of white IL
lacs.
She crossed the bridge, and gained |
the narrow, dark little street OF the |
Porta Rosa, redolent of cheese, ham
and sausages. Here the shop win
dows were already full of Fiesole |
straw work and garlands of artificial |
flowers. In one of these shrines of
the milliner's art, Barbara deposited |
her much worn Paris hat. A group
of young women, handsome, black |
eyed, and ingratiating, with hair
banged across the brow, and much |
Spanish lace deposited about the |
neck, received the nat, and promised |
to the dusty crown and |
the requisite poke brim for the mod
est sum of three francs.
4 wish no trimmings said Bar
bara, in her best Italian. Can you
let me have the hat on next Thurs
day p
oh, yes, madam, without fail, re-
piled the forewoman, showing all !
her white teeth in very brilliant
smile.
Thursday came, and with it no
hat Barbara sought the little dark
shop End the door OF the recreant |
modiste. All the young women with
banged hair bowed, and treasured |
her in caressing tones. The hat was
not finished. Friday night it would |
be sent. Friday dawned and passed,
with no hat. Barbara's face length
ened perceptibly. Petty vexations
and commonplace cares had ever
been the hrambles that caught this
woman's garments, and yet coura-
geous spirit had kept her brow un-
furrowed.
The two Poppleton girls were al
ready tying the azure bows of ador-
able little chip bonnets sent from
Paris by the care of their fond mann
ma.
Saturday morning found Barbara
more to the shop. All,
how much wiser 10 have left her
Paris hat untouched. The forewo-
man beat hasty retreat, and left
the duty of making excuses to anoth-
er. All the shop girls bore evidence
of late hours at ball or theatre in
their heavy eyes, pallor, and sullen
petulance of manner. A pressure of
work had delayed Barbara's elonga-
ted brim. She should have it, posi-
lively, on Saturday night
My poor hat is lost she sighed,
mournfully, gazing at the heap of
trimmings. Il shall never see it
again. They have burned it up, or
cut in two pieces, past mending. Of
course the creatures will ALWAYS lie