The Penn's Grove record., 1885-10-10
CYRIL'S WOOD-NYMPH.

CYRIL'S W00D-NYMPH.
Some years ago 1 stood musIng on a
balcony overlooking the Basse Plant at
Pau. / had been spending many months
here with my uncle, who required
change for his health. But he had
grown gradually weaker, and now was
scarcely able to return to England and
Trevorhurst. The twilight shadows
lad wrapped the town in night; the
afterglow had faded from the lonely
west; the mysterious outline of the
chateau doomed ghost-like through the
fragile screen woven by the interlacing
trees within the moat; anu still l liz
gered. till the lamps were lighted in
the streets below-dull globes shining
but to make a darkness visible. Then
| turned slowly away.
Through the window l saw my uncle
Lucius Trevor, reclining In an arm
chair before the smoldering logs upon
the hearth, with legs outstretched and
hands clasped over his waiStcoat, FORM
ing with thumbs and little fingers,
acute angles, north and south. The
resemblance to q benevolent gnome
was striking, as the Pickering light
danced d~isrespectfully on his bald
head, losing itself in the burrows which
sprang like gothic arches over his deep
set eyes, but the attitude of repose, the
flexible, good-humered lips, now parted
in a genial smile, fatty contradicted
the comparison, and left no doubt as
to the character of the good old gentle
man.
sI'm glad you've come in" he COM
menced, as | sat down. "Cyril, my
boy, what do you think of getting mar
ried2"
"a proceeding, in the abstract, nat
ural; in particular, unpleasant" l re-
piled. "What has suggested the idea
now, sirP"
My old age,C Cyril and failing health
returned my uncle; ''and you are the
last of our race. 1t would be a pity to
let the family die out. You ought to
marry, Cyril" Up went the eyebrows
and the freight executed a jig IN the
tip of his nose.
| groaned. This was an old point of
difference between us. / could not rec
ognize in his ardent desire to see me
settled in life, any reason for burden
ing myself with a companion whose
sympathles were likely to be at vari-
ance with mine. Even the prospect of
an heir was not sufficient to lessen the
| dislike i had conceived toward all of
the feminine gender. Allowing that
the sentiment was unnatural IN a young
man, it certainly increased In exact
proportion to the eagerness my uncle
showed to provide me with a wife
against my inclination. Therefore 1t
is not surprising that the impending
discussion provoked anything but graf
itude in me.
s'In my opinion" continued Mr..
Trevor, ut isn't good for a young man
to wander about the world with plenty
of money In his pocket, and no respon-
sibility to steady him. Why don't you
choose a pleasant girl to share the cares
of Trevorhurst with you, when / am
no longer hereP There are as many as
n could wish for, ven in Pau, my
boy.n
sob, as many and morel" was my
cynical response. "Oniy, preferring to
be married for merit rather than money
| should like to know something of the
young lady herself, and thanks to folly
and fashion that feat is well nigh I'M
possible. Can't we let the subject
drop, sir? | am thoroughly tired of it. "
"Let it drop2" said my tormentor,
rolling his head round to see me better.
Then suddenly drawing in his legs, he
darted a lean hand sideways in my d.
rection as greater emphasis tohis mean.
ing, and recommended:
"Now, Cyril. just listen. You rep
resent the good of life to me. / took
you when your parents died; reared
you as my heir-my son; and you have
always been a good lad-always. /
can't last long-you know | can't. l
grow weaker every day. Do me this
favor - this one favor. Promise to
look seriously about you while we are
at Pau. | will not ask you to propose
to any one No, mol But to please me,
to crafty and old mans whims, con
slider the subject seriously
Enough. sirl" | answered, touched
by this appeal. II give you my promise
You deserve far more than that from
me. l will think the matter over care
fully, and do my best TO meet your
wishes.n
''Thank you, my boyin exclaimed
my uncle, rubbing his hands together.
You always vas a good lad-veryl''
Nevertheless | was greatly annoyed.
One afternoon not many days after
the preceding conversation, | strolled
across the bridge over the Gave, inten-
ding to walk off a fit of Ill humor incl
dent on meeting three fashionable
young ladies' in the Place Gramont.
The day was intensely hot, and in my
present state of mind shade became alb
solutely necessary on advancing into
the country. Luckily a little by-path,
seeming to invite investigation, enticed
me, and taking it, I found that it led
through a thick plantation, which af
forded a grateful relief after the dust
and glare of the high road.
Presently, emerging from the wood
the ripple of running water attracted
my attention. Following the sound,
| arrived at a group of beech trees, and
forcing my way through the under.
wood, saw a natural basin where the
stream had collected into a clear pool a
few feet deep. Around the margin
ferns and ivy found their way through
moss, bending down to admire their
grace reflected in the mirror beneath.
In the centre there jutteu up a frag-
ment of rock, clad with grayish lichen
and a few odd rock.ferns which peeped
from the narrow assures In its sides.
1t was a place for Diana herself to battle
IN.
Throwing myself down, | reclined