The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1885-04-22
HER REVENGE.


clined TO believe that my story is a true
one. and. 1t NAV be. condemn NV con-
duct less. If your godfathers thirik lit
to give You a strange name. they can
scarcely expect you 10 be exactly the
same as other people; and the name
some one chose to chriSten me b. is a
strange one. Heritage Is certainly not
IN common use. although. when one
gets accustomed 10 it. il sounds soft
and rather pretty, especially 50 when
coupled with my surname. Heritage
Rivers" is not at all bad.
am quite sure that in most instances
people, natures accommodate them
( selves to their names. Nearly all the
LucyS | have known have been fair and
romantic: nearly all the james and Su-
. sans homely and fond of housekeeping.
( \ girls career seems often To be settled
/ by her name. SO. having no precedent
. to show me what the owner of the name
+ of Heritage should be like. | ALWAYS
plead it as an excuse for any peculiari-
, ties of disposition. Nevertheless. | am
/ not called upon to dissect my mental
! qualities for the benefit of the inquisi-
, tive, SO shall only say that one of my
chief characteristics IS that of being a
4 good h9te-S ike and respect a good
+ hater. No doubt. it is unchristianlike:
/ but ii is so natural. | am not ashamed
I TO say that if people injure me. | don I
! forget or forgive until ! feel | am about
even with them. OF course. if any one
/ who had wrOnged me asked forgiveness.
/ | should forgive freely enough don /
see how that can be avOlded-but should
never be eager to do my enemy a good
/ turn unless | felt quite sure OF heaping
Goals of fire upon his head, Now you
I know what manner of being | am: and
very dreadful the description looks as
write it: so dreadful that | am obliged
| to comfort myself by thinking of the
/ reverse of the picture-that | can be as
/ true a friend as an enemy.
1t is not so many years ago that !,
/ Heritage Rivers, a slim girl of seven
! teen. left school, and stepped ont into
/ the grOWn-up world to meet what fate
| awaited me. For the time, nv only
| idea was to enjoy my freedom. 1t was
; delightful to think that masters and
! mistreSses were finished and done with
: forever and a day. So | bade them q
glad adieu, and went down into the
/ country to stay with an aunt of mine,
| and for several weeks reyeled in sun
shine and liberty. Then, in accordance
with a solemn promise. | spent some lit
| tie time with an old schoOl-friend-0ne
| like myself Just emancipated Her people
! lived at Twickenham. in a delicious old
: heartily welcome. The mother took me
| to her heart as her daughters dearest
| friend. The father, a cOurtly grayhaiE-
| ed man with literary tastes and pursuits,
| was kindness and polIteness itself: while
| Clara Ramsav'S brothers were in an
/ hour my devoted slaves and lovers. Sur
| rounded by such pleasant attentions.
| began to realize the fact that was now
/ grown-up young lady. not altogether
Z
/ cOrdingly.
AS the Ramsays were quiet people
! and kept little company, an announce
| ment made by Mrs. Ramsay that din
ner-party was projected was sufficient
/ to tiutter our hearts. For several days
/ before it took place. we discussed again
/ and again the merits of the guests who
were to be present. AS Clara knew
| them all except one, her interest was
! centered on the probable appearance of
/ this gentleman. As even her mamma
did not know him, all information re-
/ specting him must be eXacted from Mr..
! Ramsay. whose friend he was. Girls
/ being inquiSitive creatures. Clara. at
/ breakfast-time. egged on by me, began
/ her inquiries.
Who is Mr.. Vincent Hope, papa?"
"A friend of mine, my dear. \ very
clever young man. who will one day. |
think, be most distinguished member
of society"
So far as it went, this reply was salts
! factory: but We wanted a categorical
testimonial, not a general one.
How viii he distinguish hmselfP"
asked Clara.
He is a rising authOr-little known
as vet; but all that must come"
"Oh. dear?" sighed Clara. plaintively;
81 know exactly the sort of man. |
have seen so many of them here. OF
course he wears spectacles?'
Il don't think he does-or if so, Iney-
er noticed them" replied Mr.. Ramsay.
You nevernotice anything you ought
to. papa. But he is sure to have hor-
rid beard-unkempt and uncared for.
They all have"
He has no beard. l fancy" answered
Mr.. Ramsay, meditatiyely.
rs he gOOd-lookIng and nice?" de-
manded the audaciOus Clara.
Mr.. Ramsay looked much amused al
his daughters question.
Il find him nice" he said. But what
a chit of girl like you may find him, is
another matter-a Verv small matter.
should think that most people would
call him extremely good-looking."
rs he dark or fair-tall or short?'
My dear girl, shall answer no more
questions about him. Why don't you
initiate the discretion of Miss Rivers
who seems free from your faiing-curi
osity?"
/ I blushed at such undeserved praise
while Clara, to show her opinion of my
false pretenses, nudged me under the
table.
Although Mr.. Ramsay would tell Us
nothing more. we. in our idle moments
which We're many, speculated a great
deal as to the probable personal appear
ance of Mr.. Vincent Hope. / had a Ger
tain right to feel some anxiety about
the matter, as | was informed that i
would be my lot to be taken in to din
ner by him; therefore. it was a great
comfort to me to hear he wore neither
SpectacleS nor beard.
Il know he will be delightful" crieC
, Clara. 1 feel sure the whole matte
was arranged by fate. OF course he vii
fall in love with you at oncel Who coul(
help doing so? Yon VIII look so nice
Heritagel"
This is the way in which foolish younI
women chatter at times.
1t would be my first dinner -party-al
: ordeal always trying to a young girl
Any way. | dreaded it. In spite 0
: Clara's well-meant compliments. M
mind was not easy. l mistrusted tn
; appearance | should present. Ny neV
dress. | fancied, fitted me badly. and
was haunted by a presentiment that m,
hands and the backs of my arms wer
destined to grow crimson. SO distress
J ing were my fears. that. as the hour ap
: preached, | would much rather hav
, Joined the boys. who, not being admitte'
, to the feast, had gone off for a jolly lon
. row on the river-~to get out of 1t all :,
, they said.
As | dressed myself, l wonders
I >
eat, what to drink: and above all. if an
} one should deign to speak to me, wha
to talk about. Perhaps. thought, al
4 this comes instinctively. If. happily
/. such is the case. could it be possible. a
. Clara boldly predicted. that | shouli
! carry the little world by storm? | tool
one last glance at the mirror. After al
: did not look so very much amiss
: Then. a few minutes before the hou
struck. | entered the drawing-roon
: feeling almost sangulne.
The guests arrived-two by two. Lik
I animals going into the ark whispere
!. Clara. who, having seen a little NOR
t society than / had, seemed quite at be
r ease. Mr.. Vincent Hope, as became
h distinguished man. was late. At least
r it was not until few moments befoT
, | dinner was announced that Mr. Ramsa
" brought a gentleman TO me and pre-
+ sented him.
We bent to each other: then, takin
{, his arm. / Joined the procession to tn
; iining-room. OF course / dropped m
t fan. or something, by the way. Thi
y fecessitated my cavaliers stoopin
K down to recover possession of it. thert
+ by DELAYING all the couples behind us fo
moment or two. / was beginnin
' badly
We sank into our appointed place
, and as the soup was being handed rouns
!, Mr. Hope addressed few ordinary r,
7 marks to me. Then / began to realiz
Il how shy-h0w stupid a person / wa
v The only words my foolish tongue seen