Weekly commercial herald. (Vicksburg, Miss.) 1884-18??, 1886-05-21

nithl LIT mc. Win vie rm'rva b con
nut. for iha chapter 30 lenst, WITH one
, rlnsing acnfH
End Of Janrnry Weather, much rain and
windy; time, $50 p No. scene, dining room
no Mira Barbara Temples; persons present.
percivnl and Sophia. Mark, render, thgy
hayc boon here sinco the rest rose from lunch
talking about anything Or nothing, but grow
ing warmer--at least Percival was growing
war1ner-avcry moment. He believes the
hour has rome. 50 stand the two at Che win
dow, watching tbe drops that course down
the panes, and idly racing drop against drop
Sophia wins three drops running.
"Ah," Percival remarks with a sigh, ft Is
no use. | ran never stand against you"
Sophia thinks she understands this, and
signs, too, family, bushes about the thou
sandth part Of a tint, drOops her hend about
the millionth part Of an inch. He sees all.
"What a stormy day." he says next
"Very stormy"
"And yet it does not seem dull, not in
here, does III" Artful young mani he low
cred his voice toward the end Of the sentence,
as il the very walls must not hear, but she
only.
ooh, no; it does not seem a bit dull in
here she responds. There is a regular
lovers way Of saying the same thing to
and fro; the simpletons mean to intimate
their entire oneness in all things, spoken or
thought.
Sophia looked very lovely just at that mo-
ment, with the fear that is joy lowering over
her, casting lights on her eyes, flushes on her
cheek, and making her every slightest mo-
ton tender and gentle. He feels that now
he is full in the sway of the whirlpool; on
and on he will be borne until he has told
her all.
Something very singular happened to me
in Australia Percival says, bending nearer
to her; something l am half afraid to
speak Of"
Here he stops.
"Tell me about IT," she whispers, oh, so low,
so deliciously! She meant Anything you
you are going TO say.
ut was something so strange, so unforeseen.
One of those things which happen WI cannot
tell how, leading to we cannot tell what"
He stopped again. Again she murmured
one of those sentences which women never
speak but to one ear only, unbaring their
hearts.
"Tell me about it."
"While l was in Australia l fell in love
with a girl, who is the queen of my heart,
and shall be till l die"
Her posture never changed, not by the
movement of a finger; and | do not think the
sharpest watcher would nave seen a CULVER
of her eyelid Or a tremor of her lip. But the
life went from her face and eyes, and the
fear that is joy vanished, lea ing behind the
fear that is fear indeed.
"Are the girls-the girls-in Australia
very pretty.' she inquired, in a death-like
voice.
The next moment she would be in his
arms; the next moment his kiss would have
dropped in a burning seal on lSer lips; the
next moment she would have been his, de-
clared so by signs which even her modesty
could not have hidden. Alas, how short is
the space allotted to whispering, blushing
love in this rough world! Just then the
dining room door opened, and in rushed little
Mr.. Brent, roaring with laughter, stamping
on the floor, choking, rubbing his hands.
And Mrs. Barbara Temple followed laugh
ing, but not in his fashion.
And then" cried the parson between his
rapturous bursts, "then, without another
word, down sat the dean, looking so import
ant, so digniiied, so reproving-just like an
angry turkey cock, | assure you, Mrs. Tenn
PIE. Down he sat on his new hat-crash! it
was stove in-his new hat. And up he
jumps again, and exclaims; Bless me, my
hat!"
Rosy with his boisterous mirth, he went ur
and down, not knowing what he had done,
though quick-eyed Mrs. Temple suspected,
and would have withdrawn. Percival
looked inexpressibly discounted. Who should
make the next move? 1t was Sophia.
"Good to nave a merry heart, Mr.. Brent"
she said, smiling at him in a way which
showed-he told his son as they went home
that she at least enjoyed the story. And she
darted from the room. But Percival could
not see her face before she was gone.
Fixed he stood, poor balled young fellow;
the arms dropped at his side which were to
have been wound about the girl he loved; his
face a blank, his heart full of vexation.
Meanwhile the little rector fell into a chair,
and sent up peal after peal of most obstrep-
circus mirth.
THE dean was new, and the hat was new.
When he sat down we heard the crash.
When he got up no one living could have
told which looked more dismal, his face or
his hat. Bless me, my hatr l hear him say
ing it now, Mrs. Temple. The finest sight l
ever saw. Perciyal, Percival, lrhy don't you