Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1890-09-26
dubbed from the bank few feet below

the nrSt TO leap 1fO1l my pony anu pene- |
trate the shadowy recess. Guess my |
surprise when in the gathering twilight
perceived our deserted Cecile.
"She stood in the subdued light like a
Calypso ready to resent an intrusion
within the sacred precinct of her grotto.
Why. Cecile,' l exclaimed i took
you for ghostv
For answer she burst into a little
irritable laugh-'Thanks for your com
pliment'
Il knew she was not in amiable mood,
but went up to her and kissed her light
ly on the cheek She did not change
her attitude nor unlock her arms from
behind her. Her airs provoked me, and
walked to the bank, saying, i hope
there is no law prohibiting people from
quaffing a draught at the spring.?
AT that moment l heard the chatter
of our little cavalcade. oh, gracious,
here's Ceciler We thought you We're
dead and buriedr what have you been
doing with yourself, CecileY Turning
nun. suppose, to expiate for the sin of
breaking hearts What have you done
with your lovers?' Where is poor Cousin
Victor And the gallant captain?
These were some of the questions which
fell upon her like hail storm.
Il pitied the girl and rushed to her
rescue. Girls cried, at the same time
struggling up the rugged steps in the
embankment, come on-the water is de-
liciously cool.
But my invitation was unheeded;
| Cecile stood in the midst of her torment
ors, more beautiful than had ever seen
her before. Notwithstanding her in
creasing anger there was in her eyes an
expression which aroused my compass
sion. 1t was evident that the girl had
suffered, and that she was anxious to
hide the fact from us. Her struggles to
control her emotions were vain; the color
fed from her cheeks and her lips CULVER
ed. The conduct of her friends was rude
and ungenerous. and she considered her
self affronted
How does that concern you: must
say | consider you most uumannerly,'
We're the words which fell upon us like a
clap of thunder. Our establishment knew
no bounds. and without further cere-
mony we fastened from the scene where
This little incident happened about a
month after Cecile's quarrel with her
cousin Victor. No one had received It'd
ings of him since his disappearance.
1--WE afterward heard that few weeks
after Capt. Lymons departure Cecile had
been the recipient of a document which
proved beyond doubt the dupliclty Of the
man for whose sake she had forfeited the
love of worthy man. Imagine he1
humiliation, her vain regrets ana the
remorse which must have gnawed at hel
heart like worm. The evening we sur
prised her under the trees we We're igno
rant of this important state of affairs
Her inclvility toward us proved that she
misconstrued our motives in stopping
she supposed we had heard of her trou
bles. and to tease her we had purposely
intruded upon her.
This was the end of our association
with her. The war was now ended an(
returned to the convent to complet,
my education. One by one the soldiers
came struggling home. Many We're miss
ing. but they We're all accounted for
some had fallen in battle and others haC
succumbed to the hardships Of war. Blu
Victor, the handsome creole. never NOR,
gladdened with his presence the heart
: of his friends.
AT first Cecile awaited his return will
, a patience pitiful to see. but when montl
after month went by and no tidings cam
of him. she gave vent to her despair IL
{ violent and uncomfortable grief To thi
day no one has ascertained his fate
Some believed that the unfortunate you'll
: was killed in an encounter with Capt
, Lymon. 1t is certain that he never re
} joined his company after he left til
parish.
p And Cecile, during all these years
l has been brooding over her secret sorrow
r She is now wreck. on the borders o
/ insanity. They tell me that there is il
/ her face a wistful, longing look whic
appeals TO the heart. Sometimes ii i
4 wild and despairing and overshadows he
i once beautiful eyes She has lost all in
, terest in life, and passes her time wan
| dering over the premises. or else she sit
where you have often seen her, apparent
. ly watching for somebody. Mr.. Jacol
i ever kind and faithful. has been he
$ guardian
o 'Soon after the close of the wal h
:. withdrew from the society of his friend
d and consecrated his life to the service c
7 his beloved Cecile. once the pride of hi
e heart.
). On our homeward ride we passed I'll
d old house in the dusk of evening
). Look" exclaimed my friend, sudder
|. ly checking the horse. There is Nj
n Jacob now, walking toward the bank
II with his daughter
). scanned the couple with curiosity,
: The old man was barefooted, an
| walked in STOPPING posture like on
carrying heavy burden. His shabb
e clothes hung loosely about him, and tn
t. Drim of his old hat partially conceale
Is his long struggling locks
. just as we passed them Cecile turne
e her face in our direction and silentl
.e beckoned TO her father.
ST, | shall never forget that weird tlUul