The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-03-28

Light She did.
How pleasant the room was with all it's rich
ruby shadows, in the glow of the fire and the
sconces. The curtains had not been dropped,
and one saw the moon hanging the horn of
the mountain in sky like sheeted sapphire.
How serene and safe one felt breathing the per-
fume of the dollhouse flowers upon the console.
and hearing the Shrek of the engine as it went
on after dropping some passenger at the little
station at the foot of the hill, echoing and re-
echoing with suggestions of all the chill and vast
outdoors. All, yes, there could be no doubt
about it, homes like these were pleasanter than
little seven by nine cottages In city suburbs, the
whole of one of which might be set down in this
spacious room. And the man sitting there with
the light of the Pickering fire on his face, with
the purple wreath of smoke winding up between
his ingers-if one could but have an ideal, this
courtly gentleman, this gracious man of superb
soldierly pearing-ah, well, itmust be confessed,
here was something very different from John
Faunce's plain, blunt face and ways. But of
what was it for her to recognize all this? Col
onel Nichols gave no responsive sign. There was
no more of the warmth of the summer in his
manner of the half-suppressed passion of the
autumn strolls under the chilly stars. He was
singularly reserved and still tonight.
well, she said at last, rising from the depths
of the velvet chair, whose crimson reflections
contrasted so with the pearly skin and golden
hair that lay against them, Il suppose this is
the end of our little compact of good fellowship.
We shall probably never meet again. and so our
friendship dies tonight This is the last of
earth it dies content, makes all the other dying
speeches OF pleasant people" Another woman
might not have liked the dark CLEAN in Col.
Nichols glowing eyes Good night" she said,
"and goodbye. You are almost dead with sleep.
have bored you SO. Pleasant dreams" And
without offering her hand, or approaching him,
she was gone.
And was this TO be the end? Then let the
wiles and schemes of all artifce go to naught!
1t was an hour later; the candles had burned
low in the sconces, but the freight still flashed
and faded through the room. Colonel Nichols
still sat there gazing into It, There came soft
step on the carpets, like that of cat, and o
figure gowned in white slipped up the room,
deposited letter in the drawer Of the escritoire
from which the morning mail was always col
lected, turned to 60 back, and confronted him,
started, uttered a low quick cry, half swerved
and stopped again, caught by Colonel Nichols's
iwaylaying hand It was Emeline, in the white
ruffied wrapper in which she looked like white
rose, and with all the wealth and magnifcence of
her hair in tumbling ripples and masses of gold
fallen about her If, in this disarray, Emeline did
not know that she ravshingly beautiful
as any Lois or Loage of them all it was because
no mirror could reflect the half of such beauty.
II thought you had gone to your room,
she murmured. Il had a letter to mail. L"
Never mind the why and therefore, said the
Colonel bending over her. tIt is enough that
you are here, and that good fortune made me
stay building my dreams by the fire. thought
you never would leave me so. | have been wait
ing for you to come and say good bye-if we
must part, at least to take the sting from part
ing. What do you mean, he cried, suddenly,
his tone changing" what do you mean by COM
ing down here at this hour, in this guisea Do
you know how beautiful you arel What was
that heard you reading to my aunt.
g A man had given all other bliss
+ And all his worldly worth for this
Towaste his whole heart in one kiss
Upon her perfect lips
She was close beside him. her quick signs
heavng her heart throhbing, her eyes those
ing up in one appealing glance and falling; and
then his arms were about her, his breath famed
her cheek, his lips had touched her lips, and
1T seemed to her had drawn her soul out after
them.
There came, just at that moment, sharp and
swift succession of strokes upon the pane a
handful Of pebbles, a whirl of dead autumn
leaves. belated bird flying southwark and
striking the lighted glass, shower of hail.
Startled, Emeline sprang aside. IA flaw of
wind rustling the old wisterias rays" said the
Colonel, walking to the window and pausing
halfway. 'Well, Liiitn was Adams first wife,
they say. and you are enough to make a man
forget his soul and his honor and the rights
of all other men" And without another word
he had staked from the room and up they stair
way, and had slammed his door behind him.
1t was all over now. She had done her worst
and failed. They were half-sodden eyes that, in
the gray of the morning. saw the TALL erect
shape stalk down the hill to the station. old Paul
and young Paul following with wilderness of
traps. Miss Emeline got through the day some
how; and by the next nightfan she able to
recollect that there was John left, at any rate.
And then Mrs Hollingsworth and the young
ladies were at home again. with tales of the
splendors of the golden wedding and all the rest
and the gay campers came down from the
mountain, and the house overlowed once more
with life and cheer
~,
asked Teresa. ''She looks as if the end of the
world had come"
.She has missed her letter from john said
Marian. ''She hasn't heard for two days"
Presently it was three days. four days, week.
s'WhaJ on earth has happened to John! Do you
suppose he is ill., asked Marian. lis he vexed2
Have you refused to let him name the day him
self! You used to hear so regularly that it
seemed as though the United States mail was
meant FOR nothing but to carry your letters!
you know, Miss Emeline, feel as interested as
if it were the last page of any novel that some
one had torn out" And then she was off with
some fancy
what on earth has happened to Johns"
Knocked Miss Martha looking up from her GRO
cheting and going back to it again. while her
listener started as though one struck her. Il
shouldn't be surprised if he were looking in at
the window last Tuesday night"
But whether grown something desperate with
Faunce had been the parsonage put off at the
mountain station when the engine went echoing
and e-echoing its way northward, and John
Faunce's angry and unconscious hand it was
that had cast those pebbles rafting against the
pane like bullets, Miss Emiline never knew.
There never came to her another letter from
John Faunee. Nor did any letter ever come at
all to her from Miss Martha's nephew although
the family, of course, heard that he was having
his fill of excitement of an Indian campaign. in
things forgotten
even when they were back in town again at
last, no John Faunce came to welcome
Miss Emehne; and by and by the
family in general referred to it more. She
sat disnally one morning, with folded hands on
her knees, pale and weary, and seeing her life
stretch before her-loveless, homeless, with only
the work of her hands to-day, and to morrow
unprovided for. "Humph!' said Miss Martha,
surveying her with even more disappearing eyes
than usual, and feeling stream of incoherent
old saws bubble up to her lips ''There are some
things it is wise to remember, handy to have by
Won like castOria and cosmoline 1T 10 we'll RI