The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1884-03-26
THE PROFESSORS CHOICE.

THE PROFESSOR : CHOICE.
"Olive, Olive where are you?"
Octavia Weston 5 clear, sweet voice
rang like a trumpet through the des-
olated old garret. where the red glow
of sunset yet fingered amid dark
crossbeams and festoonS of eobwebs,
and out from a particular nook
where the light shown longest, and
the huge chests and piles of lumber
had been dragged partially away
from the window edge, came a brown
skinned, jet-eyed young girl, her
black hair twisted into knot at the
back of her head, and her eyebrows
knitted, as if in preoccupation 0i
some nature.
well ?" she said shortly.
"What a little. old mole yeu are
to be sure. =" said Octavia, ito burr ow
here. when all the world is out in
the woods, picking up chestnuts and
gathering autumn leaves. Writing
poetry, are you, or correcting the ex-
ercises of those horrid little girls In
the sixth class ? Olive. Olive, | won
der YOU don't drown yourself. | am
sure | should, if | were in your
/ place"
What is it you want, Octavia p
said Olive, brusquely.
Il want you to sketch the letter G
on this piece OF paper. Something
original and fantastic, you know,
and illustrate it for me in gold-leaf
and colors, that's a darling. | must
have it this evening az 5 O'Clock"
Il don't see how | can finish it, "
said Olive, roughing up her black
locks with a mechanical hand-it
was always to this name OF hers that
she resorted when she was in a quan-
| darv-and staring intently at the
ceiling, as if seeking for inspiration
/ there.
"Oh, yes, you can! And III lend
you my locket TO wear atthe picnic.
Do try-there's love-" urged Octa
via.
Olive caught up the pencil and
hurriedly sketched the initial-a
Gothic letter, twined in and out of a
ruined. ivy-grewn easement.
"Win this do?" said she.
"Oh, cried Oetavia, 1T is exqui
site After the ultra-marine and
gold leaf are in. it will be perfect"
Leave it. then, said Olive, land
YOU shall have it at the children 5
tea. But | don't want your locket.
Jewelry is well enough, but not
when it is borrowed
How funny you are, Olive Dent, p"
said Miss Weston.
But she withdrew in radiant good
hu:nor.
"Olive never likes to be talked TO
when she has one of her inspired fits
on" thought she. But the letter is
exquisite, and the professor is sure
to be pleased with it"
Octavia Weston and Olive Dent
were both pupils of Mrs. Hunt Sed-
ley, who kept a fashionable institute
for young ladies.
Octavia was the daughter of an
impecunious naval officer, who had
not paid any of her bills very lately,
but whose beauty and good humor
made her universal favorite
Moreover. Professor Anderton.
who had instructed the girls Of the
school in literature and bellss-letters.
before the great fortune had been
beoueathed to him by a distant rel
ative. and who still came daily from
Anderton Priory to give his lessons,
simply. he said. because he liked it,
! had fallen in love with her deep com
ulexion and brilliant eyes, and this,
T in the estimation of the Hunt-Sedley
institute, was distinction indeed.
Olive, on the contrary, was an Or
phan, with no friends and relatives
in particular, except one elderly
aunt. who wanted very much to get
rid of her, and she earned her tuition
+ in the higher classes by giving in
structions to the little ones, mending
their clothes, and patiently perform
ing all such offices as these.
Olive was no beauty; but there
was something very winning in her
frank. open manner, her earnestness
about everything she undertook
And the clear bealthful tinge of her
brewn cheeks, and the intense vel
vety blackness of her eyes was yeIy
pleasant to look upon.
She worked patiently away at the
Illuminated letter until dark and
when at last it was finished, she put
it in her portfolio and carried it
down into the second-class room,
where Professor Anderten sat read
ing by the light of a student lamp.
We'll ?n he said, kindly.
81 have been busy" said Olive. Il
could not come before. Here are
my drawings. Now | want you, pro-
fessor. to tell me truly, if yen think
l have any chance OF succeeding as
an artist"
Silently he turned over the sketch
es. She sat and watched him with
changing color and intent eyes.
No." he said at last.
She looked up with an exclana-