Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1890-01-31
GRETA'S RIDE.

"Well, Maj Merriman, all have to say is
you are first class FOOL, and Mrs. Thornton
saps her hands and Indignantly leaves the
room.
A long, low whistle comes from the man in
regimentals as he balances on corner of the
table, 'Shes in earnest. Hum! That's a
new feature-my aunt in a temper Major
Merriman = that's ominous. Well, Greta,
little girl, we'll see what can be done; and if
you love me- Hang it! if she didn't have
such scruples; but she never would marry
me without her ladyship's my venerable
aunt's) consent.
All this has been addressed, in gesture
merely, to bonny picture on an easel just
before him. 1t is the picture of fair haired
girl, whose blue eyes look mischievously at
him now and, he thinks, laugh at him. They
are such merry, sparkling eyes he cannot re-
sist them, and involuntarily laughs, too; then
filings himself into a large arm chair and crit
ically examines his feet on the fender. Not
that he is thinking of them, or that Greta is
in any way associated with them; but this is
simply a masculine method of keeping his
thoughts on one subject by keeping his eyes
on another
There is a movement beside him and he is
reused by gay little laugh, while girl
drops down on chair near him. 1t is the
girl of the picture.
elbow very touching, major! A penny for
your sole-ful thoughts. Are you meditating
on the high price of shoe leather, or planning
raid on boot manufactory!" She has
trick of keeping her mouth serious while her
eyes fairly dance with the mischief within.
She is not beautiful; but, what is much bet
ter, she is fascinating, and as the young
soldier looks at her his whole lazy manner
changes to one of activity, and some of the
light from her eyes gets into his own.
s'You couldn't fairly expect first class
fool to have very brilliant thoughts, and yet
for once can prove an exception to time
honored rule. My thoughts were worth more
than all the pennies either you or I have ever
seen. Shall 1 tell thems'
Something in his manner warns her. She
raises her brows and makes crimson rose
button of her lips and says, as she looks at
him with her head on one side, "Heml No,
not at ALL I do believe you're melancholy
and need rousing. Fortunate thing that I'm
equal to it." She turns to the open piano,
and striking few full, strong chords, sings
in a melodious, daring voice the national
song Of the Rhine and her German father
land. There is both fire and feeling in her
rendering of it, and a patriotic relish that
makes her sing it well. She finishes with
triumphant arpeggio; then rising, makes him
sweeping courtesy:
'Maj Archibald Merriman."
ssMiss Margareta Werner" he bows cere-
moniously.
ssFeel better?' she asked lightly.
He looks up gloomily and says with deep
meaning:
s'No; worse off than ever"
ssMy dear sir, you ought to hang out lit
tie signboard for the benefit of humanity:
For politeness inquire-next door, and then
nobody would ever forget and look to you for
such a thing should think you were worse
off than ever! You're actually navy blue
today. Let-me-see. think, perhaps, the
homeopathic treatment may do some good.
Well have one poison counterfeit the other,
and give you tiny pill with plenty of sugar
on the outside and very little else on the in
side Melancholy men are such agreeable
companions, it's almost pity to spoil their
humors and make them cheerful; but SO it is
always, we women will be thoroughly selfish,
even if we are a trifle entertaining. All, at
lastl" She has been turning over huge
portfolio of music and has come to the song
she was seeking.
'sGood night major. Does such active
duty as yours require that I wake you when
L
face is perfectly serious, almost anxious, as
| she looks at him over her shoulder.
He looks up quickly now and there is a flash
of pain across his face, while his voice almost
trembles, "Ah, Greta, that was unkind, and
| he looks at her until she turns her head away
and begins soft prelude on the piano. Some
| how there is something lacking in the song
| this time The soldier has turned toward the
| fire and, resting his elbow on the arm of the
chair. leans his head upon his hand and closes
his ewes He is not listening to the song, and
| vet it thrills him through; he feels it rather
than hears it, Greta is singing the second
verse now, and it is well she has sung it so
| often and knows the notes mechanically, for
now these go a-begglng.
| She does not even sing it through, but
breaks off in its only happy strain and lets
her fingers linger on the keys. They form
| the yaguest harmonies and she gives herself
| nm entirely to the spirit of the music; and
every shade of feeling is the expression OF
| something in her heart These rich chords
| are his deem voice and this minor wall the
main he bore SO patiently, the wound that
cost him 50 much agony This ripping gamut
is her own light laugh and this discord is her
taunt to him, All! it is not his fault that he
is here
! The tears fall fast and the fingers roam
among the chromatic tones And then she
plays of her love for him, and the keys seem
| willing to tell the story, and make 1t sweet
| and true: and then she joins her voice to
these and sings low sweet song that seems
TO comfort her. Now suddenly she remem-
bers the man at the fire, and her cheeks flush
scarlet. But he is quiet, his head still resting
in his hand that shades his eyes. She thinks
he is sleeping, and creeps over to the chimney
place to see. And as she looks at him and
kneels down on the rug beside him, she clasps
her hands quite tight upon her breast. and
then her whole soul rises to her lips and she
sobs as though her heart were breaking
ssGreta!" and he has her in his arms, while
his ewes seek hers with question In them
that she cannot misunderstood.
sForgive me-" she murmurs, with look
that answers, sanctions everything.
After a while be tells her how he had
s,okeu to Mrs. Thornton that morning and
| of her answer to him.
lyon will never marry me, Greta, until
Amt EVELYN smiles upon us with Bless
YOU. my children'g
She thinks about il for a moment and
then RAISES her face all radiant with heI
smiles
as Aunt Evelyn so sure Of my implicit
obedience?' she asks.
"Why, it was she who told me that; said
she strictly forbade it; told me it was the SUI
premest audacity to think of such thing. l.
moneyless major, to aspire to the love of 6
Berlin heiress 1t WIS absurd, preposterous
and Aunt Evelyn wound up with the fatter
ing assertion that I was first class fool
Sweetheart, it was audacious; butt love
you so'
''Don't believe word Aunt Evelyn says,
she breaks out fiercely. II never could carr
if man was rich, If he only loved me, ane
you know-1 know very well''- Heis waiting
for delicious expression that is stealing
over her face when the door is burst oper
and black face thrust in, rolling its eyes il
Mortified manner and painting for breath tt
calculate:
''Miss Crate, Miss Crate, help me; oh Lor
halp mel The Yankees is comb"