Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1891-06-18

Then follows a rather prolonged silence.
Not an awkward one, but certainlya silence
fraught with danger to both. There is no
greater friend to Cupid than an unsought 81
lence such as this. At last it is broken
What lovely roses there are in this gar
denf says Desmond, pointing to a bush of
glowing beauty near him.
Are there not?'' She has taken off a
long white glove, so that one hand and arm
are bare. The hand is particularly small
and finely shaped, the nails on it are a pic
ture in themselves; the arm is slight and
childish. but rounded and very fair.
Breaking a rose from the tree indicated
she examines it lovingly, and then, lifting
it to his face, as though DESTROYS Of sympa-
thy, says
rs it not sweet?'
1T is indeedr' He is staring at her. Very
gently he takes the little hand that holds
the flowers and keeps it in his own. He de-
tains it so lightly hat she might withdraw
it II she pleases. but she does not. Perhaps
she doesn't please, or perhaps she sees moth
ing remarkable in his action. At all events,
she, who is so prone to blush on all occa-
sions, does not change color now, but chat
tiers to him gayly, in an unconcerned man
her, about the scented blossoms round her,
and afterwards about the people yonder,
behind the tall Towering shrubs that sur
round the tennis ground.
And still her little slender fingers lie pass
lively in his. CHANGING at them, he strokes
them lightly with his other hand, and counts
her rings.
''Four-fve," he says; quite burden for
such little hand to carry"
L like Them" says Monica; brooches
and earrings and bracelets I don't care for
NJ, ri | 7 cd
until they are on. To slip them on my fin
gers is the last thing I do every morning be-
fore running downstairs. At least, nearly
the last
and what is the last?'
Il say my prayers" says Monica, smiling.
THAT is what every one does, isn't it?:''
Il don't know" says Mr.. Desmond, not
looking at her. 1t seems to him long, long
time now since last he said his prayers. And
then he suddenly decides within himself
that he will say them tomorrow morning,
the last thing before going downstairs"
he cannot have quite forgotten them get.
He is examining her rings as he thinks all
this and now little pale turquoise thing at
tracts his notice.
''Who gave you that?'' he asks, suddenly.
1t is to jealous eye rather lOvable little
ring.
Papa, when was fourteen" says Moni-
ca. 1T is very pretty, isn't it? have felt
quite grown up ever since he gave me that"
Monica" says Brian Desmond suddenly,
tightening his hold on her hand, ''had you
ever a lover before?'
"Before?'
eyes," slowly, and as if determined to
make his meaning clear, and yet, too, with
a certain surprise at his own question. Had
! you?''
'Before?" as if bewildered, she repeats
| the word again. why, never had lover
| at GUr'
''Do not say thatag says Brian, moving
astep nearer to her and growing pale: II am
your lover nOw-and forever"
''Oh! no, no." says Monica, shrinking
| from him. ''Do not say that"
Il won't, if you forbid ME, but" quickly,
II am, and shall be, all the same. l think
my very soul-belongs to you"
| A crunching of gravel, a sound of coming
footsteps, the murmur of approaching
| voices.
| Monica, pallid as an early snow-drop,
| looks up to see her aunt Priscilla coming
| toward her, accompanied by young man, a
very tall and very stout young man, with a
rather drilled air.
"Ah! here is Aunt Priscilla" says Monica
| breathlessly. 'Who is that with her?''
"Ryde, one of the marines stationed at
| Clonbree," says Mr.. Desmond, curSing the
| marine most honestly in his heart of
hearts. Clonbree is a small town about
| seven miles from Rossmoyne, where a COM
| pany of marines has been sent to quell the
! Land League disturbances.
Miss Priscilla is looking quite pleased
with herself, and greets Monica with a fond
! smile.
Il knew l should find you here" she says;
| FLOWERS have such fascination for you.
You will let me introduce you to Mr. Ryde,
dear childT'
And then the introduction sgone through,
and Monica says something unworthy Of
note to this big young man, who is staring
at her in more earnest manner than is
strictly within the rules of etiquette. Some
how, too, she presently discovers she has
fallen into line with her new friend, and is
moving toward the lawn again with Aunt
| Priscilla following in her train with Mr..
! Desmond.
Quaking inwardly, Monica at first cann>
| take her mind off the twain behind her, and
all the consequences that must enSue il Miss
| Priscilla once discovers a Desmond is being
addressed by her with common civility.
I She is, therefore, but poor company for
the tall marine, who seems, however, quite
satisfied with the portion allotted him and
maunders on namely about the surround
| ings generally. When the weather and the
! landscape have been exhausted, it mnSt be
| confessed, however, that he comes to a
! stand-StilI.
Madame O'COnnor, going up to Miss Pris-
ella, engages her in some discussion, so that
presently Monica finds Brian beside her
again.
| ''YOu will let me see you again soon," he
says, in low tone, seeing Ryde is talking
to Miss Fitzgerald.
But how can I?'
You can if you will. Meet me some
where, as [ may not call; bring your broth
| er, your, sister, amy one, with you; only
meet me-"
eff [ did that how could L look at Aunt
Priscilla afterWard?' says Monica, growing
greatly distressed. "It would be shameful !;
[ should feel like traitor. l feel like it al
ready"
Then do nothing. Take a passive part,
if you will, and leave all to me-" says Des-
mOnd, with a sudden determination in his
eyes. Il would not have you veXed or made
unhappy i'll any way. But that [ shall see
you again and sO07l-be sure"
But"
Il will listen to no butt it is too late for
them. Though all the world, though even
you yourself, should forbid me your pres
ence, should cOntrive to meet you
Here somebody addresses him. and he is
Obliged to turn and smile, and put off his
face the touch of earnest passion that has
just lllumined it; while Monica stands ST.
lent, spell-bound, trying to understand it
all.
is it thus that all my countrymen make
love?" she asks herself, bewildered. At the
| Clnn1d LIZ