The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1886-07-01
TWAS NOT LUCK.


u. u. 8. CasselEs Family Na0azins.
TWAS NOT LUCK.
1t is early morning in Oberbrunn
From my leaning place on a remnan,
OF moss-grown stile where many ar
Alpine youth and maiden have doubt.
less plighted romantic troth, can sec
the first yellow beams of the sun a.
they creep up the side of the huge
frame building-half hotel, half water.
cure, that have given our party OF
tourists welcome shelter for the past
fortnight thoy throw, too, a faint
shadow of gilded tracery on the tiny
church and handful of village perched
dizzily on the breezy mountain plateau
hundreds and hundreds of feet above
the sea, whose restless blue waves
surge widely between us and our dis
tant republican home
'Who would dream that in two
short hours we begin the ascent of the
Hohenhorn' l muse, withdrawing my
dazzled eyes from the bright scene and
letting them fall on the soft green turf
at my feet dotted with hundreds OF
wild blue forget-me-nots. l have q
singular liking for these shy flowers.
Perhaps they bring to mind certain
pair of eyes fully as rich and deep in
hue. However that may be, l stoop
and pluck handful to adorn the
ribbon of my hat before sauuter back
to the Dependence and survey through
the quaint latticed window the COO
breakfast-room whose beautifully
sanded floor as yet scarce bears the i'm.
print of a foot.
'What can ell Aunt Sophie"
mutter, discontcn,edly. plunging both
hands deep down into The pockets of my
sack coat, ''It's just like woman tc
sleep away the loveliest part OF the day
and leave Il fellow to the company Of
his own solitary thoughts
Here my conscience gives a little
twinge as if to belle the truth IF my
words. Aunt Sophie. with her still
delicate c5lor and putfs of soft gray
hair, is treasure any one might envy
but It is Barby after all that l want
Cousin Barby, whose figure is slim anc
straight as one of the tall pines in thu
black wood half way down the slope
and whose brown-lashed eyes are {
perfect match for the for-get-nots thai
still adorn my hat ribbon.
l have scarcely taken half a doze1
impatient strides up and down III,
apartment when the door opens softly
and my aunt enters, fine lace vel
partially concealing her silvered hair
and her black dress of some clingine
material trailing noisclessly after her
"Good-morning?' cxclaim, warm
ing into sudden cordiality at the sigh
of the fine old face, and putting fortf
at the same time friendly hand. Ny
gloomy mood has suddenly vanished
like vapor before the warmth of tn,
morning sun. and a strange new ella
ton has taken possession of me.
''Philip'
My aunt does not touch my hand
but lays her own instead, pleadingl!
on my arm. note with surprise tina
she looks pale and worn as if from I'm
rest, and that there are dark hollow
+. under her eyes.
"Why!" I exclaim. with too eviden
concern in both tone and manner. bu
she silences me with little imperative
gesture.
''Philip,' she repeats, with a strang
tremble of anxiety in her voice, "wh,
must you attempt the ascent of tn
Hohenhorn this morning? there will b.
other days as perfect as this, and
"But you proposed it yourself, las
night,' interrupt, little impatient
ly.
Il know it, she admits. reluctantly
''but, after left you in the late twi
light, strange doubts and fears came4il
place of sleep, and the morning ligh
has not banished them.''
''What do you fear?' inquire, care
]essly, gently tolerant of what l con
slider a woman's whim. A low sigh
scarcely breath. is the only answer t.
my query, and my gaze involuntaril,
follows hers out through the lattice'
panes to where, in the near distance
two figures are strolling slowly owe
the grassy slopes toward us, tho fresl
wind curling the broad brim of tn
mans hat so that he is forced to secur
it with the long, 1.-THE fingers of hi
right hand, while his left almost touche
the girls blue dress that fluttcrs abou
her slim figure in anything but ungrace
ul folds.
My eyes met those of my aunt sec
ond time.
Il do not like him, Philip,' she cries
! her usual placid calm of manner civ
ing way to sudden passion. ''Heavel
forgive me if am unjust; but, for som
strange. unknown reason l mistrus
him.
"What! Egremont? So do III al
firm. modify, land so does no
Barby.'
''Do not Judge the child harshly
"Philip," the mother Pleads ''Sh
was always very fond Of you till thi
Englishman crossed her path. Pei
maps he fascinates her just as he doe
me. feel like some strange serpent
charmed bird whenever his gaz
chances to fall on me!.'
We can say no more, for the othe
guests are beginning to enter, singh
and in pairs, and before am rea)l
aware of the fact, l am seated opposit
my cousin at the table, watching he
fair face just Urged with wild ROSE
the result Of her early ramble in til
fresh mountain breeze, as she bends t
listen to the low-spoken words of he
ntertainin0 c0mnanian of the NOR