The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1886-02-26

The drlve below is on a level with the
| grassy banks on either side; the fir
/ trees are bending TO the very earth, so
1 weighty is their dazzling burden. Up
| on the windOw-sill a little brown bird
! lies dead, pathetic in its stiff and
I mournful quiet.
Cissy. putting out her hand, raises it,
and tries to warm it into life again
within her hands and bosom, but to no
avail, and sadly she lays it where she
4 found it, and heaps a tiny mound Of
4 snow upon it. And then. shiYering
she closes the window and rings her
bell for one of the maids.
/ She dresses rapidly, though with a
mind pre-occupied. The prospect of
having to spend another day at Oak
lands, with no chance of letting her
/ mother know of her safety, fills her
with anguish. Depressed, but pretty;
4 perpleXed, but lndescribably charming,
| in her soft, navy-blue serge gown, with
some old lace ruffles, borrowed from
Mrs. Richards, or rather from her
/ hosts ancestors, at her throat and
! wrists, she goes dejectedly downstairs
in the direction OF the housekeeper's
| room. .
Being obliged to pass the library on
| her way thither, she encounters Mr..
| Craven emerging from It, some letters
In his hands. He bids her gOOd-morn-
| ing in his most genial tone, hopes she
| has slept well, and that she has not suf-
ffered from yesterdays imprudence;
/ Miss Rivers thanks him sweetly, and
! tells him she has slept well, and that,
so far as she can judge at present, she
! has not succumbed to cold. Then the
! 1achrymose expression returns to her
| face, and she says mOurnfully-
/ Did you ever see such q daYl Worse
than yesterday. What shall do about
| mamma?"
81 have arranged all that" answered
/ her host, pleasantly. The post-boy-
! wretched youth-plowed his way up
! here as usual, this morning, in spite of
wind and weather, and he undertook to
show one of my men the way to Branks-
mere. So [ wrote your mother polite
and reassurlng note, to say you were
! all right with Mrs. Richards, but that l
| feared you could not return to-day, as
! no horse could travel"
"Oh, how good of youI" says Cecil,
! gladly. How can 1 thank you enOughl
/ You have taken quite a load off my
| mind, and made my heart as light as
/ feather. But l wish you had told me
! before you sent your messenger, as 1
! too should have liked to write mamma
{ a little note"
1T was so early"-gently-" [
/ hoped you were sleeping. And l would
} not for worlds have had you disturbed
/ after all the fatigue you experienced
| yesterday"
I
ness and thOughtfulness.
How well YOU can think for other
people," she says, q little vaguely, but
gratefully, giving him the cool, slim
! hand she had willfully withheld when
wishing him goOd-mOrning. Only for
a moment, though. Hastily withdraw
ing it, almost before his willing fingers
have closed over it, she saws, gayly.
How is your friend. the Major?"
"BetteT-much better" he returns, in
tone that would lead one to imagine
he had said, "Worse-much worse"
"He even spoke of being able to get
down this evening in time for dinner.
But'-with mock solemnity-"the day
is long, and gout is not Trustworthy"
Then | shall dine with Mrs. Rich
ards" says Cecil, refectively. and as
though, little hypocrite that she is-the
idea is rather pleasurable to her than
otherwise. And that reminds me-
quickly shall also breakfast with
her. Goodbye" - nOdding to him
brightly, and moving on a step or two.
until he stays her by an imploTing gest-
ure.
."You won't breakfast with me. thenY
How rash of you! Peters, [ am posi-
tive, can provide twice as good a break
fast as Mrs. Richards. Don't sacrifice
yourself on the altar of duty"
Il sha n I. |, for my part, believe
firmly in Richards She looks like a
good breakfast. BY and bye, when we
meet again, if indeed"-with a quick
glance from under her long lashes
which is full of coquetry in spite of all
her stern resOIveS-"we ever do meet
again-I expect you Will be consumed
with envy when l tell you of all the nice
things have to eat"
We'll, rush upon your fate if YOU
will" he replies, But at least LET us
make a bargain. If Peters outdoes
Richards, VIII you promise to throw
yourself on his tender mercies to-mor-
rowI The old gentleman"-waving his
hand upward to where the Majors
room may be-"neVer enchants me with
his society before noon"
"A bargain it shall be-" rejoins Miss
Rivers promptly. But, if YOU lose. Won
sha'nt get any breakfast at all. That
is my amendment"
III risk even that for the chance of
the alternative" he says gallantlv. Il
think, Miss Rivers, you expressed a
wish to see the gallery-didn't
your"
Il should like it so much" answers
Cissy. 1T is nOw"-drawing out her
watch-"a quarter to ten; at twelve l
shall be ready TO pay my respects to
the old people. Win that hour suit
you? Yes. Very well then"-with a
backward glance, and smile charming
because swift, BE sure you are not
latel"
lie is not. Indeed, it still wants full
ly five minutes TO the appointed hour
when he presents himself at the door of
Mrs. Richards's parlOr, to find his guest
awaiting him.
Ihe pIcture-oalleTy proves a complete
success Miss Rivers, her mind at rest
about her mothers anxiety on her be-
half, IS in her gayest mood, and declares
herself, and is in very truth. enchanted
with the endless rows of simpering
danes and dauntless knights that line
4-s,11 -
every dark legend connected with the
grim WARRIORS every romantic and eerie
tale about their wives.
"This gaunt spinster," saws Mr.. Crav-
en-, indicating withered damsel of sour
aspect, was lady of advanced notions.
In our days she would have gone in
heavily for woman'S rights. Perhaps"
-heSItatng-"yOu agree with"
Here he stops, abashed by her re-
proachful look
How could you so misjudge me?"
she says. DO l look like one of those
awful peOpleI"
She stands little back from him. as
though implOring him to assure himself
now and forever that she is not of the
abhOTTed race. She certainly does not
look like it-not in the least like any,
thing awful or abhOrred; and he tells
her so mildly. as far as words go; but
with considerable warmth if she can
read his eyes Alright.
1t is a pleasant morning. in spite of
the wind and the never-ceasing snow;
and when luncheon is at an end Mr..
Craven proposes game at billiards, to
which Cecil. who plays as badly as most
women, willingly assents. In the mid
die of the third game she grows absent,
and forgets to play; and her host, look
ing at her, sees smile creep over her
face. .
What is amusing you now?" he asks,
-, H.