News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1889-12-19
Fenella.

whose engagement ring L had worI
just one week, down TO the little bridge
that runs over the stream, to look Al
the reflection of the moon in the
water.
We said it was for that; and as al
artist, Charles was always supposed to
be on the lookout for moonlight effects
and sunset beauties, and all that sort
g. of thing; but when one has only been
engaged week, the midst of a circle
of merry tourists Gin Italy,, is not al
ways the pleasantest place to stay in.
We lOnged to be alone for a moment
or two: that is the truth of the
matter.
But when we had reached the bridge,
we found we were not alone. There,
leaning over the handrail, a pretty
picture i'll her peasant dress, with her
long, black braids hanging down her
back, was my Italian maid, Fenella.
Beside her stood a mana gentleman,
L could see even in that dim light. He
held Fenella's hand, and as we passed
heard soft whisper of endearment.
They were lovers evidently, and the
next day, when we were alone, Ispoke
to Finella about it.
She only dropped me little cour-
;esy, and blushed shyly, and said moth
ing; and IL was not old enough to
preach to her, and was quite roman
tic enough to believe that any gentle
man might fall in love with beautiful
Fenella and be glad TO make her his
wife. Would l have loved Charles
less had his birth been humble? OF
would he have thought me less his
mate had been a peasant girl? We
believed not. So took counsel of nv
lover, and we decided that it was all
very sweet and beautiful, and that all
lovers were as true as we were; and
we said nothing to the older folks
about Fenella's lover.
think that somehow Fenella and
her lover conjectured what we thought
They never seemed to heed us when
we met in lonely spots. 1t was always
evening, and | never quite saw his
face, but he had a fine figure, bore
himself exquisitely, and beneath the
cloak he wore we saw the flash of
jewels. He was some one of wealth,
if not of consequence-that was evil
dent.
We tarried in that old villa only
few brief weeks. Those who had the
direction of the party whisked us away
TO edo" other places before we two
were tired of it. But ere l parted
with my maid Fenella engaged only
for the time of our sojourn) L had
grown to like her very much, and
someR keulS..lot help saying to
- my hair Tor the last |
tiffe!Q fla, before next Summer
comes I-alRall be married. You can
guess who is to be my husband, of
course. Would you like to come to
our native country and be my maid
when j am married."
She blushed, and gave me that little |
of hers.
ssI am glad Miss Maria is to be so
happy. / should like to be her maid,
if | were any ones; but-Miss Maria
will tell nobody?-I am married"
She put her hand in her bosom and
drew forth a ring.
s.My wedding ring" she said. "He
is very well born. and we must keep
it secret a while: but he loves me very
much, and I-ah, how well i love
him !"
So we exchanged condolences, and
my maid, and the next day we parted.
/ returned to England, she remained
in her native land; but it was long be-
fore l forgot her pretty face and
pleasant WAYS. Indeed, | cannot say
truly that ever quite forgot them, but
1 heard no more of her.
/ was married before the next spring
came, and lived happy life with my
husband for FIVE pleasant years Every
spring we spoke of Italy, and planned
10 visit again the town where we had
met end learned to love each other;
but il was not until the sixth that we
really carried out our plans, and after
a brief travel found ourselves in the
quaint old place where Fenella had
been NV maid, and where ! had
dreamed my love-dream, and knew she
had dreamt hers.
The old villa in which we had dweit
stood empty that summer, and, to
make OR visit still more full OF sweet
memories, we bred it for the season.
With il we also hired the same old man
and woman who had ministered to the
wants of the large party OF tourists
who had crowded the villa during that
vanished summer.
We two only had returned to it, and
we lived in two or three of the many
rooms in a sort of Bohemian fashion
we found very pleasant.
The very first day | had questioned
the old woman about Fenella, and she
had shsken her head.
"Fenella is Dead" she said. "Sht
died three months ago."
"And her husband?" asked.
.Nobody knows where he is" the
old woman said. awhile madame was
here with her party, so long ago, re,
nelIa had a sweetheart: but he vanish
ed. no one knew how or where. Ther
Fenella was very unhappy; but SIN
told no one anything. She lived here
in this house with an English lady
who took her as her maid, until thu
lady herself died. She used to sit by
the window of that little room 6Dt
weep. have seen her; but she negel
told any one why. Never"
Then my old servant shook her heat
apain. and departed kitehenward, leav
ing me to think over poor Fenella'
story. Somehow grief had come t.
NV little waiting-maid. That, at least
was evident.
Tine little room that had been Fen
elias opened out of mine. 1t was
small apartment, with little folding
bedstead placed against the wall, Oh
image of the Virgin on bracket,
chair. a table, and in the window
great box, in which grew some plants
and a great creeping vine, which cluns
TO the lattieed panes and made an ex
quisite curtain.
Whenever entered this room fei
a chill creep through me, and grew SAD
had noticed that from the trst, AM
supposed it to be because the story TN
old woman had told me had had
strong effect upon me.
The image of Feneiia weeping az IN
window seemed to have impressed
itself upon my mind, SO that ! eoui'
almost see her sitting there.
Weakened one night with a strang
chill upon me. 1t was not the chill
that precedes an illness-we all know
II very well. A thought given to thos
mysteries. which all sensible peopl