Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-09-14


| hope you will make up for it while | am
at home. want you to feed me high"
ssBYess God, we got plenty for eat, Mas
Frank; dis chile get him cherry ting he
want"
The sable crowd took their departure,
after having prolonged their stay to the
utmost limit which they thought proper.
! When they departed the happy circle
| gave themselves up to talking and listen
ing, there was so much to tell and to hear
on both sides.
II was not expecting to find Clare look
| ing so well,' said Frank. ''Father wrote
me she was here for her health, and very
| feeble. / think she looks better than l
ever saw her,"
1--WE think her health Improving" her
mother answered.
my boyH inquired Mr.. HOughton. "Will
you be prepared to graduate next COM
mencement, and do you expect to take the
first honor@'
81 fear not, father; there are so many
there smarter than /"
His mother Interrupted lin, saying, You
must not study too hard, Frank, it is inju-
rious to health and might spoil your eyes.
l would rather you should never take the
honOrs; leave that for poor young men,
who have nothing else to recommend them
but their learning"
show does Frank know but that he may
be classed among these same poor young
men some day ~ asked his father.
"We will not suppose such an I'M
pleasant thing, as it is not at all likely"
she replied.
''Not likely admit, my son, but then
not impossible, and it is well to be pre-
pared for such contingencies. Experience
has taught me that there is no truth of
Holy writ more continually verified than
that 'riches take to themselves wings
and fly away"
Supper was announced, and Frank did
sufficient justice to the tempting viands
to prove the assertion he had made that
he was as hungry as bear. He praised
everything, said the coffee was the most
delicious he ever drank, that Ma'am Betty
had beat herself with flannel cakes. and
wound up with the assertion, 1.-The truth
| is, it is so sweet to be at home again."
Before they separated for the night he
made an arrangement with Clare to take
a horseback ride with her in the morn
! ing.
Glare would not refuse to 60; she could
| not well, for she and her aunt had been
riding daily, sometimes with parties, and
| again only themselves and their escorts.
! She asked her Aunt Houghton to accom-
pany them, but she had made other ar
rangements for the morning.
Clare well knew that as soon as they
! were alone together Frank would imme-
| diately breach the subject which was evil
! IDENTIFY present to his mind. She thought
perhaps the sooner the better. and she
| would try to convince him that her decis-
| ion was unalterable.
| The following morning was delightful
! one, and they cantered through the streets
and out into the country with little said
on either side. When they were alone it
was as she supposed it would be. Frank
! brought her back to the old subject. His
| studies would soon be completed and he
! be ready to take his place IN the world;
| how could he ever make to himself home
| unless she would consent to share it with
! him. He wanted no Penates unless he
could have her as presiding deity.
"My dear COUSIN" she replied, 81
! thought this subject was forever laid at
| rest between us-from this hour it must
| be, or l must abjure your society. Is it
necessary that | repeat the same thing to
you every time we meet? 1t is peurile
| and childish to the last degree. Why do
you persist IN urging the matter when |
tell you | do not love you~
"Answer me one question, Clare, and
answer me truly"
do ever speak aught but truthT
"Have you pledged your heart to an
other, and promised to give with it the
/ hand | crave so muchP
II have neither pledged heart nor hand
to any one; does that satisfy you, Frank
sit gives me ground to hope"
''No, Frank, it does not, for I shall
never marry without love, and | am sn~.
the passion would have grown IL nv heart
for you long ere this if it could exist there
! W t nave Deen TOO rGuch like brother and
sister ever to BE anything else to each
other, and you must Danish this wish
from your heart or you Will make us both
miserable.'
81 for one shall be miserable when do
| Danish it.''
81 want it settled now, and here, that l
am not to be urged upon this point, and if
| you persisC in bringing it up, the only re-
dress left for me will be to 60 home."
81 will promise anything you ask rath-
| er than lose your society"
! Well now, remember the terms: You
are never to speak to me again on this
subject at the risk of my stunning your
! society altogether. Let us be as we were
| twelve months ago, as we have been all
| our lives until you took up this foolish
| idea, warm, devoted friends, brother and
sister in everything but name. Let me
| come to you for sympathy now as | used to
| in our child troubles, and find you as ready
| now as then to sOOthe me-
| Frank could not respond to her views of
| what their relations to each other should
| be, and sad and dispirited he remained
| moody and comparatively silent during
| all their ride. Clare eXerted herself to the
utmost to entertain him, but her efforts
met with no response, and as no one per-
! son can carry on a conversation their ride
was anything but pleasant one, and
| both felt relieved when it was over.
Glare had long confidential chat with
! her mother that night, and begged that
| they might 60 home as soon as they could
do so without giving Ofense.
Her mother persuaded her that would
not be best. She said Frank would only
be at home for few weeks. Meantime,
perhaps,'he might fancy some one else. He
was like his mother, volatile in DISPOSE
ton, and it would be quite in keeping
with his character to devote himself with
equal ardOr to some other party.
After this Frank and Clare avoided each
other as if by mutual consent.
To dress and receive calls, and dress
and take a ride or drive, and dress again
was the order of the day. To Glare it
seemed a very heartless life to lead.
When she was at home she could employ
herself usefully in a thousand ways.
With their large family of servants there
was always something to do for some Of
them. The sick were to be cared for, and
the appetites of the cOnvalescent to be
tempted.
llBy WdIuIOD65 N6I6 continually Ill ue-
mand among the negroes for the new
corners, and she made it her duty to pre-
pare them. The supply of clothing for
all of them was to be cut and made by the
seamstress; but this must be supervised
by some one who had more Judgment
than they possessed, and she shared her
mothers IabOrs in this department. They
made quantities of wine and preserves Of
various sorts, and many household care
she took upon herself. Then she read
Systematically every day; here she hard
ly ever found time to read at all, and as
to sharing household cares with her aunt
she assumed none herself. The servants
managed her house, and she paid no more
attention to it than if she were boarder
in it. How Glare longed for her own
home, yet her uncle and aunt did every
thing in their power to make her visit
agreeable, while the dissipation of the
city was so distasteful to Clare, and she
was all the time contrasting the vapid life
she was leading with, to her, the far more
ennobling one she led at her home. Mrs.
Houghton would have been miserable had
she been compelled to exchange with her
she saw no charms in the country, nor
could she content herself there for a week,
so differently are we constituted.
TO BE Continued