The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1890-09-11
NORA'S LOVERS.

| IL Is d une, One DeQReS are gay WIFI plDl
roses ana sweet with the perfume Of cream
colored honeysuckle. Slowly the CIR
walks through the mingling clover, tai
buttercups and long grass, dropping sar
casms over her shoulder to her companion
who is compelled by the narrowness of the
path to follow behind. His long, pale fact
is framed in fair hair, which falls over his
shoulders from under a large hat that
wants only ostrich plumes to be veritablt
Gainsborough. He has large, dreamy eyes
and his face is as smooth as the white
hands which hold an open, beautifully
bound volume with aesthetic hberality Of
margin.
Morals tart remark is followed by q
silence which continues until the poet
| clears his throat and rustles a leaf; then
she halts.
Il do hope" she says emphatically,
"that you are not going to read any more
of thatr
"Any more of that?" he questions, with
ominous calm. THAT WHAT"
Nora shrugs her shoulders and pulls a
buttercup.
eve have had our last quarrel" she de-
clares, holding the yellow petals against
her hand.
"I hope so, am sure" says he. mine
is a nature that needs repose and calm"
''It is nature wholly unsuited to mine
of that l am surel We are entirely I'M
suited for each other. / like a man TO be
manly, and ! could not be content with the
prospect of having to spend my life in
watching you write Swinburne-and-water
verses and hearing you read themW
But" says the poet, raising his brows,
81 cannot live without your
''Well, couldn't live with you, so there
we are, Mr.. Scrope."
"Your aunt wishes it." he urges, in the
same low, even tone.
''She is not the person most concerned.
No; as have already told you, if l ever
marry at all you are not the man, or like
the man. Why can't you leave me alone?
Why do you 90 on prosecuting pne?"
The poet folds his arms and looks at the
lovely, indignant little face
"Do not be rash: you will find few men
as generous as l. B"
Nora, with laughter in her eyes, turns to
look at him, but the popularity of his ex-
preston checks her mockery. This time
he has not spoken in overweening vanity,
but with mysterious meaning. Under her
steady gaze of surprise a faint tinge of color
spreads over his face.
Il should like to know exactly what you
mean" she says very quietly, but with
dangerous signal il each blue eye; will
you be good enough to explain yourself?'
Scrope does not reply; he seems extreme
~ uncomfortable, and forces feeble smile.
Nora, uncompromising, angry, faces him
still
II am neither old nor ugly" she says;
'my parents were poor, but honest and
well born; l am rot penniless, thanks to
my godmother. Pray, where does your
generosity come in?"
Mr.. Scrope gazes blankly into the dis
lance and murmurs that he did not mean
anything.
$50 like you," said Nora, with a toss of
the head; and without another word she
resumes her walk through the field to the
low, green gate of a lawn, by the side of a
delightful old house with many windows
overlooking a sweet confusion of fragrant
flowers and shrubs.
At window facing the green gate stands
a benign matron, supported on either side
by comedy, healthy, vigorous son.
They come in one after the other" says
Tom, the elder boy, as Nora and the
poet approach. "Shall / never cease TO
wish that that man would cut his hair?"
He may do as he pleases," says Fred,
''if he will leave of dangling after Nora"
What is your objection to him?" the
mother asks politely.
'Oh, want Norah TO marry a man, not
a feeble imitation of one-though, indeed,
l don't want her TO marry at ALL"
Morn hos or,l,- ha vo,-xy Faip-oc% ,-ooolIao
ton of her dead parents. She has lived
with her aunt so long that she does not re-
member any other home, and ever since
she came she has been the pet and play
mate of the boys-for they have no sisters,
and Nora has always been bewitching
little maid.
"Auntie" has resided in this quiet little
village during the last few years-she finds
it suits both her health and her finances
better than town-apd few months ago
Mr.. Horace Scrope, poet-introduced by
the rector, a warm friend Of the family
falling in love with Nora, sought and OBJ
tanned from her only guardian permission
to WOO and win. He has quite misinter-
preted Noras natural kindness and the pa
thence with which she has listened to his
poetical ''unities of the utter and the in
tense, and attributes her refusal of him
to maiden shyness, girlish perversity-to
anything indeed but the real cause
As they cross the lawn Mr.. Scrope sees
The faces of his natural enemies, the bows.
who have parodied his poems and carica-
tured his face and figure in an infinite va
riety of ways.
Il will enter the house only for brief
farewell" he says. lit may be some time
before l see you again; am going to Lon
don tomorrow"
The boys are delighted at the news OF
Scrope's intended departure, but pleasure
gives place to regret a few moments later
when they learn that he means to return.
Nora says good-by coolly enough; GER
tain words Of Scrope's are ranking in her
bosom. Tom is quick 10 notice her unusu-
al QUietness.
what is It makes you sads
How many apples have you hsdy'
She answered, only seven"
And are you sure you've hsd no more,
My little maids" Quoth !;
"Oh, sir, my mother gave me four.
But they were IL a pie"
he says, with ludiercus imitation Of Horace |
ScTope.
Tom" cried his mother, in tone Of re- |
buke, and be retreats with his brother. |
Then Nora and her aunt looked rather |
shyly At each other.
"Auntie dear. why cid you want me to |
marry that mani"
Ny dear, ! thought be was fond Of you; /
| think so still"
Nora meditstes, then repeating the poets /
generous speech asks her aunt tor an IN, /
my dear Nora, what generosity could |
there be in marrying you." asks Mrs \
Stamer. Don't think about the ungallsnt 1