The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1889-04-07

Oood-Dye, sald Jane, as she opened the
front door.
Goodbye" said Sarah, as she stood in
the hall. shall i see you tomorrow"
why, yes" said Jane. 81 shall see you
at Ipswich. if not before"
"Ipswichp said Sarah, what is Ip-
swich7"
Il mean the sleigh-ride, you goose. You
do not mean that you are so interested in
your Cowper and your Adam Smith and
your other stuff, that you have forgotten
the ~sleigh-ridef Be sure you wear your best
bib and tucker. Goodbye"
Goodbye" said Sarah, and Jane closed
the door and went on her way. Sarah re-
turned into the house.
No, che had not forgotten the sleigh-ride.
for the simple reason that she had
never heard Of it. And now it
seemed that all the girls in Salem
knew that there was to be a sleigh
ride. and she did not know. That was not
very satisfactory to a girl who had a right
to consider herself one of the best beloved
and most esteemed of the Salem girls-the
general favorite. who had no enemy. At
the very bottom of her heart, of course,
Sarah Paris knew why she had not heard
of the s~leigh-ride. She knew perfectly
well, at the bottom of her heart. that the
u men had had a talk after the party
at the Norrises', and had agreed that. if the
sleighing lasted, there should be a ride to
Ipswich and a dance there. THIS she knew
-fof native impulse. elemental force:u she
constructed it from the law of the instru-
ment the moment she knew there was to be
a ~sleigh-ride. In the same way she also
knew, at the very bottom of her heart, that
Harry Curwen had said to the other young
men IN his 0ff-hand 6lCfqfOrial vyQU. sI
shall ask Sarah Paris, and you can ask
whom you like" Them she knew that Harry
CuTwen had gone up TO Boston the next
morning with his father, and that be had
taken it for granted that she would go with
him, and so had not so much as taken the
pains to write her a note to tell her to hold
herself engaged to him. And so 1T was that
she had the modification of being the only
girl In Salem who was worth asking, who
had not been asked to the sleighing-party.
All this, l say, she knew from native i'm
pulse. but 1t was not very. satisfactory to
have to construct for herself the picture of
What vas going on in the town. Least of
all was it satisfactory that the news should
have been given her by Jane Endicott.
Sarah did not ask herself in what way she
would have liked to have the news. come,
but she did know that it could not have
come to her in a more disagreeable way.
And at the very bottom of the bottom of
it was not the first time that Harry Cur
wen had treated her in this off-hand and
take-for-granted way.
Here was nice, sweet. pretty Sarah Par
.ris left In the lurch, and yet not left in the
lurch. She must have su her things ready
for q long sleigh-ride, and yet she must
pretend that she did not know that there
was any ~sleigh-ride. She must meet her
aunt and her cousins, and talk of the party,
or not talk of the party, as, she thought
best, while she knew, at the bottom of her
heart that, as surely as 3 o'clock came
around the next day, Harry Curwen would
--a-a 80 bic aI4-n-4 h>.nAa 49, hAnu&.-
full sleigh, and would take it for granted
that she would be capped and coated and
ready to go with iii
1ation story, Sarah Paris would have ad-
ministered to the young man a proper re-
buke. She would not have made ready to
go, she would not have been ready tc go.
and when he came with his span of horses
and his sleigh, he would have been told to
go about his business, and would lave lost
the party to Ipswich. But that was not
what Sarah Paris Determined. and this
the afternoon of Thursday he did come
around. just before 3, Sarah ran down the
steps to meet him. exactly as If he had writ
ten the note to her. She had her hands in
hood upon her head, she had her
heavy shawls and the rest of her
wraps, and her pretty little feet were in
the carpet moccasins, which were also even
pretty, because everything she had was
pretty. And Harry Curwen lifted her into
the sleigh with the expression, to which
she was not unaccustomed, of perfect salts
faction with her appearance. They babe
good by to the party on the steps and drove
away. They were among the first at the
place of rendezvous, but the last were not
two minutes behind them, and then, with
great shouting, cheering and calling back
and forth. the long procession took up its
line of march, if march it may be called,
and swept out over the Danver road
towards Ipswich.
So soon as the long line was well under
way. Harry Curwin, having made sure for
the tenth time that the bearskin was well
tucked in on the weather side of the lady.
said to her with real feeling: Sarah, you
are good not to scold me. If ever a fellow
deserved to be scolded it is l; but. really,
my dear Sarah, it was not till 1 gave Brew
er the order for the horses, to-day, that /
remembered that | had not told you about
the party. And L drove up to the house
mortifed-well, mortified is no word
ashamed and frightened. You know very
well that there are twenty other men in
this party who would have been glad
enough to knock me out. and how should |
know that you had not engaged yourself to
one of themf"
Sarah would not laugh, as perhaps he had
hoped she would. She said to him. very
seriously, that he would have been served
quite rightly if he had not found her
ready, and that the thought of leaving him
IN the lurch, as he deserved, had passed
InfOugu utT mluu.
ITO tell you the ruth" she said, 'if /
could have mortified you without morti-
flying myself / would have lone so. and
would nave done so gladly. But, In the
first place. / wanted to dance, / wanted
to see the girls, and wanted to be in Ips-
witch. i did not choose to give up the party
because my man at the stable was late
in sending around my horses. That was
the way in which / finally put it in nv
mind. But you rave no right to expose me
or any other girl to any such notification.
You have been careless enough before, and
somehow, in some way, we will see that
you are rightly punished. You must not
expect to find me with my muff on nv
hands whenever you choose to WHISTLE
The young fellow deserved a great deal
worse scolding than this. And, to tell the
truth, bit by bit, he had his share that
night of seedlings much worse than his.
But the foundation was thus laid for the
whole evening. in which he was taught a
hundred times that ne was on his good be-
havior, that be must repent and
reform. The truth was that he
was the spoiled child of Salem,
everybody knew him, and everybody liked
him: and he went and came as a sort of
Aleibiades. doing very much as he chose,
and supposing that his omissions would be
at0ned on the ground of his general public
spirit and infallible good nature.
Among other good things which he had
picked out for his own had been the COM
panionship of Sarah Paris on any such oc-