Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1883-11-22
The Sturp Teller.
ONE AFTERNOON.

ONE AFTERNOON.
81 presume" said the minister's wife,
"you love Ida as though she was your own
child"
A foreboding of age stuck to Marcia's
heart, as she gathered in the chill with
which the innocent remark seemed shiVer-
ing. 1t seemed to her she turned old in an
instant, as though her face fell into wrinkles
and an impress as Of the faded leaf set its
stamp upon her. The sunlight, tluttering
like wing upon the wall, took a shade less
of gold and all the world darkened just so
much, as in the slight moment of pause
Marcia accepted her position, and decided
with pang to be no longer young.
81 can imagine" she answered, just as
the minister's wife looked up in surprise at
the little piece of silence that had dropped
down between them-"I can imagine" said
Marcia, show one must, perfOrce, love an
own child, though that joyous fountain OF
pure water. has bubbled unseen and untast-
ed throughout my life. No; / do not love
Ida, dear enough she is to me, as l suppose
would child of my own"
The minister's wife went home, and In
discreet confidence asked of the minister
what provision there might possibly be IN
the next world for an old maid whose heart
was filled with children.
After her visitor had gone Marcia went
through the house, looking for the young
girl Ida. The rooms were very dainty and
very pleasant, but to the mistress in herneW
mood, seemed trife stiff and prim.
"Well," she sighed softly, lit all partakes
of me, suppose. Strange that my, eyes
should be made to open so suddenly
should have wished the knowledge to steal
upon me gradually and gently, so that l
might have accustomed myself to the truth,
without this shock"
Wherever she found a reminder of Ida,
there she thought something bright and
youthful livened and beautitied the rooms
while her own hat hanging in the hall, the
chair she sat in, her work-basket on the
stand, seemed suggestive of her own older
self. 1t was not pleasant thus to realize the
truth, but to this point must we all come at
last.
Stepping out upon the low and wide We
randa, Marcia could see Ida coming up the
shadowed walk, looking very young now
that Marcia felt the lack of youth; she no
ticed how young and how sweet. Coming
SO out of the distance, her step, though
slow, seemed elastic and full of life, and she
made pretty picture. Her skirts were
light and airy, fieecy drapery half fell
half clung around her shoulders, and the
dropping brim of her hat just allowed a
glimpse of her sunny hair. BY her side
walked their neighbor, Herman France, and
Ida's eyes were cast down toward the roses
in her hand, never once lifting to meet his
frank yet somewhat dreamy gaze.
A pang was thrust again through Marcia
and she wondered that she should just be
regretting her loneliness, when she had the
knowledge pressed home upon her that she
was quite beyond such gallant attention
The two were doubtless born for each 9th
er, and the solitary woman on the vine
climbed veranda was quick to confess how
we'll they walked together, how harmonious
they seemed, and what a pleasing contrast
they offered.
"By and by they will marry" soliloquiz
ed Marcia; land what more natural or more
to be desired? Then shall be truly alone
again, and perhaps | had better indulge my
self in little of that travel which has been
like the thread of dream running through
my life. Now that am growing old must
take my travel or / shall never have it.
l had better have taken it younger, per
haps, as it is, for old bones are weary ones
and they like resting better than wander
ing"
Marcia was doing dreadful thing when
she cast herself loose from youth in this
way but the trouble was that, in contrast
with the fresh, girlish bloom of Ida, she
felt her outside body must seem old and
worn, and that she was bound in duty t(
age her spirits also.
Also unconscious that Marcia stood con
cealed by the vines, the couple strolled ul
the rose bordered path, Marcia exaggerated
to herself the appearance of interest they
seemed to have in each other.
"Let us stay out here" said Mr.. France
Hroo -. 1,,<-t
vines on such a perfect afternoon"
He took off his straw hat as he spoke, an(
Marcia saw for the hundredth time how
white and how broad his forehead was, bu
she had a peculiar notice for his manly
strength of feature and outline to-day. She
admired him more than she had ever done
till now.
"All lovers make such excuses" she mur
INJURED. ale cares nothing whatever abou
the luxurious air. He simply wants to bt
alone with Ida, and he is afraid they vii
meet me as they come into the house"
Ida's laugh was like little rill of music
as she twirled her long-stemmed roses ant
replied: J., .o ,,.;os ,.o,, ,.nov ,,.hic,
forbid yielding to temptation. | ought tt
be practicing this moment, Mr.. France, IN
stead of idly putting appendices to our wall
in this way"
Nevertheless, she swung her skirts light
ly round, and sat down on the lowest step
crossing her pink wrists, and flashing up a
her companion through her eyelashes Ont
of those swift and daring glances in whicl
innocent girlhood often betrays its limo
cence.
81 can only imagine you as playing a
duty" he answered lightly. "Surely yol
were made to do Just what pleases you. N'
must ever ought to come into your life, littl
one"
81 don't fancy being called little one
answered Ida, half pouting. ''Its too pat
ronizing and too tender-a great deal to-
tender.'
"She is right" thought Marcia, determin
edly. It is eminently proper she shoul'
keep him at distance. When she is III.
age she will see how right she is"