The Portland daily press., 1883-05-10
[B'ackwood's Magazine
Fleurette.
lCoNTINUED.I

After this, as We were SucH near nelgl-
bors. used frequently to encounter Fleu-
rette. and would often join her and walk
with her. Whether she knew that john
secret was mine conld not say, but she met
my friendly advances half way. The more
saw of her the more ! wondered how l could
have thou! b e. so lively and gay. Whatever
she might seem to others, there was, to me
at least, vein of thoughtful sadness In the
girls character-at times even fancied 1t
approached to despondeney-and | felt al
most angry with her, knowing that turn of
her finger would bring one of the best fellows
in England to her feet. We met old John
once or twice SIS we were walking together
Fleurette cast down her long lashes and sim
ply bowed.
''Of course you know my brother well?" l
said.
81 have often met him." answered Fleu-
rette, calmly.
"Aud you like him, hope?"
81 like DR.. Penn very much," she replied
simply.
"He is the best fellow and the best brother
in the world" l said; and then told Fleu-
rette what we had been to each other as
boys; how John had been as careful of me
as the mother who was dead might have
been-how we loved each other now; and as
/ spoke l saw blush on her clear brown
cheek, and although she said nothing, her
eyes when they next met mine were wistful
and kind.
shall soon make it all right, / thought,
as noted her look, and resolved to argue
the matter on the first fitting occasion.
There is little rivera tributary TO a
large one running through Dalebury. Be-
ing too shallow for navigation, it is not of
much use except as water supply and for
angling. Sill, one who knows it can get a
boat with light draught long ay up.
One afternoon, thinking a little exercise
would do me good; procured such boat,
and started TO row up as far as l could, and
drift leisurely back with the current. For
some distance on one side of the stream are
rich fertile meadows, and the path along the
bank, through these meadows, is a favorite
walk with the Dalebury folk. As padded
my boat up the stream, guiding its course
by the old landmarks, which came fresh to
my memory as though / were a boy yet, and
startling the water-rats, descendants of those
among whom John and l made such havoc
years ago, 1 saw in front of me on the river
bank the dainty little figure of Fleurette. As
/ looked at her over my shoulder, / could
see she was walking slowly with her head
bent down, as one in thought Thinking of
John and her own folly, perhaps, | said. So
preoccupied was she, that the sound of my
oars did not attract her attention until was
close to her. Then, seeing who it was, she
waited while rowed to the bank on which
she stood.
"Good afternoon, Miss Dorvaux,n said !;
''if you will step into my boat l viii row
you as far as the shadows will let me, and
then back home.n
Fleurette hesitated. 'Thank you, Mr.,
Penn; l think prefer strolling along the
river bank"
I'm that case shall tie my boat to this
willow stump, and, with your permission,
walk with you. But you had far better
come with me; the boat is quite safe, and I
have not forgotten my cunning
81 am not afraid of that said the girl,
stepping lightly into the stern of the boat !;
while l thought, here is the chance to reason
and expostulate, and doubted little that my
arguments would let me bring Fleurette
back ready to accept her fate. Well, pride
goeth before fall
Yet for while l said nothing to my COM
panion. did not even look at her. Poor
little Fleurette! saw, as soon as we met,
that tears were on those dark lashes. The
smile on her lip belied them, but the tears
were there, nevertheless. So / waited for
them to disappear before talked to her, al
though half suspected my words might
bring others to replace the vanishing drops.
Presently Fleurette cried in a voice of
Gan
we get them?'
With some trouble I got the boat near
them, and Fleurette gathered three or four.
As she sat opening the white cups and
spreading out the starry blooms, / said,
"Why are you always SO sad, Miss Dor
vaux?'
"Am sad? Very few people in Dalebury
give me credit for that, l fancy"
my eyes look deeper down than the
Dalebury eyes. To me you are always sad.
Why is IL? You have youth, beauty, and. if
you wished it, love. Why is it?'
Fleurette turned her eyes to mine, do
you think these pale lilies have any hidden
troubles, Mr.. Penn?'
''None, should say. They toll not, nei-
ther do they spin, you know"
THE people who toll and spin are not the
only people who are unhappy in the world"
said Fieurette, softly.
"Nor are the water-lilies the only flowers
who shut up their hearts, and only open
them after great persuasion"
She placed one of the white stars in her
dark hair and said: ''We are getting quite
poetical this afternoon. Was that a king
fisher flew by?''
Of course, it was no more a kingfsher
than it was an ostrich; and as Fleurette was
now my prisoner in mid-stream, was not
going to let her escape or evade nv cues
tons for any bird that few.
s-eadied the boat with an occasional dip
of the oars, and looking her full in the face,
asked: "Flenrette, why do you treat John
so strangely?''
Her eyes dropped. 81 scarcely under
stand you," she said.
"You understand fully. Why did you re-
fuse to marry him?p
II might plead woman's privilege. If
W uo af
to be the choice of any particular man.
You might plead it if you did not love
him; but you will not plead it, Fleurette. 1t
is because know you love him / ask you
for an answer to my question"
Her fingers toyed nervously with her lilies,
but she said nothing.
IF thought you did not care for him-if
you can tell me sony question is answer
ed, and | am satisfied. Answer me, Fleur-
etc.
She raised her head, and | saw her brave
brown eyes swimming through her tears.
"The proudess day in my life was when
John Penn asked me to be his wife-the
happiest day wonld be the day / married
him, and that will be never"
"Never, Fleurette?"
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.. Unless Here
the girl gave sort of shudder and covered
her eyes with her hands.
"Tell me what obstacle there can be-" /
said, gently.
81 cannot. / will not. If could not tell
John, why should | tell you?''
"Your mother is great invalid, is she
not?" asked, after pause
"Yes," replied Fleurette..
SIS it possible you fear John would wish
you to leave her? Is that the reason, Fleur-
ette?'
II will tell you nothing, she said, firmly.
PUT me ashore, please"
VERY well, Miss Fleurette," | said rest
ing on my oars. "Then I give you fair
warning shall never cease until find out
everything"
The girls face flushed with anger "Wha;
right have you," she cried, "to attempt to
pry into my private life? / hate you! Put
me ashore at once.o
Fleuerette not ouly had will but tenn
per of her own.
81 will not" | said, until you give me
some message | can take to LONESOME
word that will let him live on hope, at least"
"Will you put me ashore?" said Fleurette
stamping her foot. My only answer was a
stroke of the oars which sent the boat some
yards further up the stream.
sThen shall 60 myself said Fleurette (:
and before / could comprehend her meaning
she simply slipped overheard, and in coup
lie of seconds was standing on the river-bank,
with the water dripping from her petticoats.
She darted across the meadow without even