The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1886-07-29

lordship.
mo, Polly, no; 1 am sure"
"Polly! ye gods!" soliloquized the earl.
Suggestive solely of comic opera, milk
maids and parrots. And she has short
hair-he never could abide a short
haired woman. And she was small.
Small women had always, from youth
up, constituted his pet aversion! Dressed
in brown; brown as color was distress
ing-in fact, it was no color at ALI"
Coniston had all his nations prejudice in
favor of brilliant hues.
Why! there came Bradford! such a
capital fellow for an American.
Bradford knew her.
She smiled at Bradford, and allowed
| him to sit beside her, and gave him her
wrap to hold.
And Bradford held her wrap, and they
all went off the boat together in the
friendliest sort of fashion, with the maid
trotting after them with the satchels and
dogs.
No, he had always had a special aver
sion for that Bradford! And as for small
women, with short hair, dressed in
brown-well, his disgust for them was
not to be measured by any language.
Nevertheless, as Coniston willy argued
with himself, "a man must fill up his
time;" so, in an off-hand way he just in
timated to Bradford that he didn't care
if the opportunity offered-if he did in
troduce him to Mrs. Waddle and her
niece, Miss Grey.
Bradford was apparently magnanim-
Gus; besides, he had never presented an
earl to Miss Grey beforehand ne did the
deed with satisfaction to himself at
least.
Miss Grey bowed Slowly to Coniston,
and then she turned her attention to a
group of lady friends sitting near, leav-
ing Coniston to the agreeable knowledge
that he was at liberty to salute her the
next time he met her on the piazza or
the corridor.
1t didn't satisfy him.
He went off and smoked a cigar, end
conjured up Cicely in the fragrance of
the Havana.
Even Cicely did not seem to be as COM
plete boon as he had fancied she ought
to be.
For five days he wandered up and
down, and round and round the hotel,
~lounging," he called it; but the more
correct term 10 describe these peregrina-
tions would be-poItely chasing Polly
Grey.
Finally he behold her alone. Neither
aunt nor Bradford nor friends-Heaven
be praised were anywhere about.
He drew near the big rocker where she
sat with book in her lap; and suddenly
Coniston remembered that he should
have to say something beyond good
morning." and for the first time in
forty-one years he actually wondered
what it should be.
She spared him the attempt, however,
and glancing up, said:
"Ah! good morning; you have been up
in town, suppose, ever since the day
since Mr.. Bradford presented you?"
"Up in townl" This was too much,
when he had followed her like detec-
tive the entire time.
Coniston looked feebly at her, and then
he laughed, and his fair face flushed as
he ventured to sit down on the piazza
step at her feet. Polly glanced down
inquiringly, with steady, demure eyes.
No." he cried. Miss Grey, I've been
most of the time about yard and a
quarter away from you; but you never
seemed to see mel"
How strange!" Polly says, wonder
ingly. "Most people would have seen you,
now, wouldn't they?"
sehts, with a sigh.
"Then you must have rejoiced in
change, didn't you? Variety is so pleas
ant to an appetite jaded by sameness!"
@No," he answers; Il didn't enjoy it at
all. I'll tell you," he says, looking up at
her with wide, clear eyes; ito be frank,
I hate American women, and you're the
only one who ever inspired me with the
slightest"
Coniston stops short; there is some
thing in his listeners face that marks an
unerring period in his reckless speech.
We'll y she asks, sweetly and clearly,
@'-the slightestY"
The English language is Coniston's
native tongue, but it fails him now; he
feels the warm blood suffusing his face
as his mind runs after an elusive
woman.
"Ah, 1 see; there are some things so
much better implied than expressed.
But am so matter-of-fact that 1 must
translate your mute eloquence, Lord
Coniston-." At this instant Coniston
is lost in calculating how many minutes
he can stand this present temperature of
his head and face-"into words, or a
word-curiosity, Ell? Come, be twice
franks it not so ?"
~You may christen it curiosity, and
call it 50, pro tenn, if you choose, Miss
Grey, but"
The earl again falters.
"Oh!" cries the girl, with a little inn
patient wave of her hand, and throwing
back her pretty blonde head; show 1
abhor Enghshmenl They are so in terror
of even their minor emotions. A French
man, German, an italian, any other
nationality in the world is ready, eager
TO put his firtatious propensities into the
most delicious language; but an English
man!"-she shudders-@he stops to won
der what he is about to feel, and lol the
emotion vanishes! ha! ha! hal"