Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1885-07-15

f1uence over me that, had 1t not been for
discovery made, confess it was not un
likely that l might have made donkey O
myself. discovered she had lover.
went one afternoon to Fairlawn, and Mrs
Lyall told me that Edith had gone to lunch
with some friends, and would not be home
till the evening. Abandoning all hopes
OF soeing her on that day, and thrown
for my amusement on my own resources,
| went after dinner for an evening
ramble. The air was calm and clear,
and finding comfortable seat on stile
between two fields, I sat watching the
shadows deepen and listening to a nightin-
gale. The light grew DINNER, pale sta1
appeared in the sky; afar off could hear
the water rushing over distant weir.
suddenly detected light footsteps in the field
behind me, then the rustling of dress, and,
turning my head, saw Edith on the other
side of the stile. She started back in sur
prise.
"Why," exclaimed in astonishment, 81
heard you were spending the day with the
As" They lived far away in another
direction.
81 did lunch there" she said little nerv-
ously.
"But this isn't the way back from their
house."
"I'm not coming from there.''
"Oh," said /, and helped her over the
stile.
"Mr. Merton" she said, after pause,
81 want you to do me favor"
think dreaded something unpleasant.
'YOu are surprised to meet me here" she
continued.
"Why-eh-yes.
"You mustn't tell my mother you met
me-"
Miss Edith's cheeks were flushed, and her
eyes were anxious.
"Come, PROMISE" she urged as 1 remain
ed silent.
81 PROMISE" said I-she could have made
me promise anything-"but you ought not
to have secret from your mother"
| was beginning to feel like confederate
in plot.
Il know that" said Edith, "but can't
help it,"
Then it dawned on me with rush that
Edith had lover, and that she had just
parted with him. / felt sudden and un-
pleasant change within me, and, waking
from my little dream, became reasonable
mortal again. A barrier of embarrassment
had sprung up between us.
After little pause, however, informed
Edith that took fatherly interest in her
the adjective did not seem happy-and
that if could serve her in any honorable
way it would give me pleasure.
"Thauk you," she said; 81 value your
opinion very highly, and think if you were
in my place you would act as do"
I smiled at the idea of being in her place,
and wondered if should have preferred the
society of men of ripe years to that of mex
perienced boys. It seemed to me that
should.
'1m sure you would" she added with
blush. "Would you give up a man because
he happened to be poor ?''
There was very beautiful gleam in her
eyes.
"No," said I, ''not if there were anything
in him worth caring for, which isn't usual
ly the case"
''The man I care for is much too good for
mev' she exclaimed.
"Nonsense," said feelingly.
"You would like him very much if you
knew him." she went on. 1 doubted it.
"And you've just seen this paragon" said
/, sarcastically.
eyes," said she, ''and you can't imagine
how difficult it is.''
Then she told me the old story of an at
tachment-youthful detrimental-no pros
pects-maternal disapproval- -clandestine
meetings in consequence-all the difficulties
80 full Of absurdities and pathos that dog
the steps of unhappy lovers. Poor Edith
like the rest of the world she had her trou-
bles. If it had been any one else I should
have lectured her; but her manner of stat
ing her case threw dust in my eyes and made
it appear she was quite right.
''And what is his name ?" I inquired
bluntly.
81 would rather not tell you," said she.
'What does he do then ?''
"He is an artist"
/ naturally concluded he was not a sue
cessful one, picturing to myself good
looking youngsdauber accusing the Hang
ing Committee of the Academy of all man
ner of crimes when they had the good taste
to reject his productions from the mass of
mediocrity with which they annually cover
their walls.
81 have nephew who calls himself an
artist" said I.
She gave little start.
"You never spoke of him BEFORE" said
She
sNo; because we quarrelled."
"Whose fault was it"
"His, of coursep' And I told her the
listened intently.
''Poor fellow" she exclaimed, Chow very
nice he must be-"
This was not what expected. felt she
ought to have pitied me- So commenced
to defend my course of action, while she, on
her side, pleaded Charlie's cause with a
warmth and interest that, considering her
own troubles, surprised me. I tried in vain
to persuade her that the first steps toward
reconciliation must come from Charlie;
but, womanlike, feeling blinded her sense
of justice and she was logic-proof. 1t was
almost dark when we separated at her gate.
I watched her as she fitted through the
gloom of the trees to the house, and then
walked slowly home with new set of
thoughts about her. 1 did not sleep well
that night.
GConcluded nert aoeek.