Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1891-03-11
SERVED HER RIGHT,
BETWEEN TWO STOOLS.

The happy lovers were Janet Elwood ana
John Wentworth. 1t remained for young
Boston artist to separate them.
Eugene Raycliffe came down to board
with the Elwoods for a few weeks, and
found it very enjoyable to make love to the
daughter. This was too much for John.
who, finding his betrothed so engrossed
with the stranger, Kept away from her
home. But she had little time to think OF
him, while Mr.. Raycliffs devoted himself so
entirely to her amusement. lie paintec
her portrait, and while she sat for him, be-
guiled the time reciting in melting tones
yards of tender, sentimental poetry; they
went on sketching tours; they sat on the
piazza in the twilight, and sang together,
for Janet had sweet alto voice, which the
boarder was not long in finding admirably
suited to his own.
Things went on until Janet's mother,
with many a mob and beck and wreathed
smile, minated that there was an sun
derstanding' between the young people.
John Wentworth was well enough in his
way, honest, sober and industrious, and
shrewd as need be, but she looked higher
for Janet. Janet had been to boarding
school, she had the education of lady,
she could sing and play the piano, and MIR.
Raycliffe had praised her drawing more
than q little. And, by the way he hung
around This time to go back to the city was
up long ago, but he had engaged the room
for another month";, she was sure some
thing would come of it. She could sniff
wedding in the air, and went SO far as to
ask Mrs. Browns opinion as to the most
fashionable way of making dresses.
Time Is a great healer, and when, one
hazy October day, Janet rode over in her
little phaetou to ask John and his sisters
to her wedding, he looked her straight in
the eyes, and wished her "a happy future
without tremor in his hearty voice or
culver of his eyelid.
"Eugene has gone to Boston" SAID
Janet, clicking the flies off her gray pony,
and leaning forward. "We should have
heard from him yesterday. / feel little
worried. He had a good deal of money
with him. We sent to the city by him for
things we could not get here, and several
of the neighbors-Judge Jordan, Squire
Ellis and others-paid him in advance Tor
portraits. l dreamed last night of him
being robbed and killed. Ugh it makes
me shiyer. l know I am foolish, but
can't feel easy"
Two days went by, and DO news OF the
prospective bridegroom. The wedding
preparations Jagged. Three days-Judge
Jordan and Squire White had consulta-
ton.
Bills began to fall due, and Mr.. Eugene
Raycliffe was still like the unknown
quantity represented by X. People began
to talk. Janet's mother took TO her bed
with an illness, sudden, and of nature un-
explained and obscure.
Janet grew pale, waiting for letter.
Finally, one bright Saturday morning,
Sunnydale, individually and collectively,
was sgape over startling headline in the
Boston journal:
"Arrest late last night Of Joseph Ray
mond, otherwise known as 'Dashipg Jo,'
and having for his latest alas, Eugene
Raycliffe. Several well-to-do residents of
Sunnydale victimized by the accomplished
and gentlemanly scoundrel."
The affair was nine-day's wonder. But
after month or two had passed away. and
the excitement bad quoted, people began
stake up with his pretty early love-"
announcement for him to do SO was not
lacking $50 the matrons Of Sunnydale will
tell you) from Janets mother. Janet her.
self wrote little note on perfumed paper
TO John, and this was TIE closing part of
his reply:
81 do not want to reproach you for your
throwing me over as you did. You haze
been punished enough. Bat fer man
like me it's no use t5yi@g to go On With
things as they are now. Better each go
our own way. And although I can't feel
toward you as l did once, believe that /
bear no i'll will toward you, and regard me,
if you will, as friend STILL"
"Whep, year after, on another still
October day, John told Janet of his ap-
proachipg wedding to a young lady of
Boston, Janet cried little, and offered
faint, lacbrytncsc congratulations, with g
fury of regret and jealousy in her heart
that the young lady of Boston fortunately
knew nothing about.