Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1890-12-05
Green grow tho ru ,hes. o 7"

Green grow the u'hes, o !"
Merrily, blithely, skim the swallows
through the velvet air Coo Cool sigh the
wood doves from the dark entrances to the
plantations beyo and through all and
above it comes the swish-swish of tho waves
as they break upon the beach far down be-
low.
A heavy bunch of creamy roses, wet still
with glistening rain drops, is flung by q
small but unerring hand at the easement of
Delaney's room. 1t is as yet early morn
ing and Denis, coming to the window in
answer to this perfumed command stands
revealed in his shirt sleeves, and armed
with two brushes that have as yet hardly
succeeded in reducing his hair to order.
"Come outl Come outl' cries a fresh,
sweet voice. "Whatl Not dressed yet?
Why, what do you think 1 have already
done? I've been down to the beach. /
have had swim. l have come back again
and am now regowned Oh, what lazy
boy you are!'
Indeed, 1t may all very well be true. So
sweet n picture she ruakes, looking up at
him with her pretty head thrown back and
her face, fresh as the morning and as a
lily fair.
'I'll be out in O moment" says he, not
without a thought of his present rather or
tho5ox costume; but such thought he allows
after q swift glance at her is a cruel waste
Of time. There is NJ mock modesty about
her; no mausive houte anywhere Is he not
! her cousin, and Is not cousin sort Of
half-brother?
"You should have been out an hour ago.
| The air then was delicious. Hurry now,
do, and put on your coat, and we'll have q
run before breakfast Here" flinging him
q rosebud, ''put that in your button-hole,
ana hurry, hurry, hurry"
Tnere is scarcely need for such injunc-
tioii. Never in his life bafore did he hurry
through his toilet in such Frantic haste; and
presently he had his reward. Long, long
years afterward he can recall to mind the
strange, viii, happy sense of utter enjoy
ment that chung round that morning hour
spent with her, ere the dew was lifted from
the flowers or the heart of the day was
opened.
Then comes breakfasts merry meal-as
neither the squire nor his daughter can re-
frain from giving way to q spontaneous
gayety that affects one sympathetcally,
and draws one into the swift current of its
own sprightliness. And after breakfast
there is half an hour with the squire, who
insists upon his guest following him round
the extremely untidy farm yard and giving
his opinion upon this and that. And then
there is the Duchess to cope with for tho
rest of the delicious lazy, sultry afternoon.
"You play tennis?" asks Denis idly,
when they have sauntered through the old
world garden, and gathered themselves in
q desultory fashion very ideal bouquet.
"Yesl Obi yes" with a Frightening
eye.
''Have you a court?"
The Duchess colors.
GA sort of one, 4" she confesses 81"
hanging her head, "I'm afraid it ism It the
kind OF enc to which you have been ac-
customed.'
That this is probable q seconds reflection
assures Denis hut he refrans from saying
SO.
"Lead onl'' he says instead with q severe
glo ice. "You are evidently trying to
sh'rk the contest, and | am bent Il warn
YOU on giving you beating that will last
your lifetime"
"An! SOP cries the Duchess, ner Irish
blood taking fire at once, fer setful of her
late fears. "Come on, thcnl'
The court. when he comes to it--half re-
luctantly led thereto by the Duchess, whose
desire for battle had cooled again as the
march commenced, knowing what tho in
tended field looked iie-is of so unusual an
appearance that 1t needs oil his Self-cOm-
mand and good breeding to keep him from
evincing his surprise. 1t is indeed meant
for a court because it is portion ID or by an
extremely rustic railing from the field boz
yond-a stubby field-yet but for the rail !
ing it might have beonged--been part and !
parcel of the stubby fold. In fact it was |
last month";
1T is horrid you won't like to play Oh |
it!' says the poor little Duchess, plaintive- !
ly, who had been enduring agonics of shame |
on the way hither. There is indeed such a |
wealth Of misery in her expression rs would |
have made worse man swear he would |
play in it or die.
KS that your plan of getting out of your |
beatingy" says Denis, scornfuly, waving |
his racket on high. "If so it's vain one. |
my good child you'll get it in spite of oil |
your efforts TO the contrary. Come, let's
begin. thirst for the fray''
II this indeed be the truth his thirst Is
considerably quenched after tho first
draught. The ground may he bad-nay, il |
Is inconcoivably so; the balls abominable:
but the Duchess, at all events, is an uncon.
querable foe. Now here, now there she
darts, swift as flash If iignt, ing, taking
his hardest balls as though thcy were childs
play to her; giving HIM balls inpossible--in