The Forrest City times., 1891-07-24
Il PROMISE.'
"Viva! Vivai I must go,"

belong to me.
 The beautiful little creature stamp ed her tiny foot on the turf, as she epoke; her eyes famed with anger, flush shot up into her dark cheek.
 'I belonged to my country before I ever saw you, Viva" answered Tom Creighton, in sad but steady tone.
 "You shall not go though Ahl dear, dear, darling Tom, canyon leave your little lassie to die of fear? Don't you love mel"
 She gathered the tall fellows hands close to her heart, and clasped them there with strange, passionate strength, Tom stopped and lifted her to his bosom as if she had been a tiny child.
 Il could not love thee, dear, so much
 Loved l not honor nore,"
 he said, slowly, bending his head to her ear. A splendid head 1t was, crowned with close curls soon to fall before the shears, and it's symmetry to be hidden by forage cap; and the face did not belle the head; it's strong, regular features, It's cleft chin, and reso]ute lips, all gave the word as surance of a man. while the express sive gray eyes revealed humor, tender ness, pathos, passion, and a possible flash of rage.
 Don't tank to me about honorn sobbed Viva. hiding her face on his shoulder. Il shall die ii you go away from Inel can't---l can't bear itl"
 There was no heroism about Gene vieve L'Estrange; her French descent had given her inexpressihle charms of aspect and manner; she was as slight as q girl of ten years. and no higher than her lovers shoulder. but ths contours of her exquisite figure showed the roundness and grace of woman hood, and her piquant, glowing face was alight with all the fire of an in- tense feminine nature. There was nothing childish in the red. mobile lips, the delicate, irregular features, the brilliant dark eyes that sparkled or melted according to her mood, the abundant, silky black hair that fell to her feet when ii escaped from the heavy coils that seemed too weighty for the lovely little head they covered.
 She was spoiled from her babyhood, being the only child sf wealthy parents; not wish had the wilful creature ever been denied; never had she wanted a luxury. or failed to indulge caprice; indeed. 1t was q caprice that this very Summer had taken her to the White Mountains before the great hotels were opened, to a small house near the viii iage of Franconia. She wanted to sec the Spring blossoms of the North. to gather the dawn pink arbutus. she had so often bought in Broadway, fromits lurking-places under the pine needles of the forest; she had heard of "the shy Linnea," the white wintergreen and many another early flower that fades before fashion comes to ex- plore it's haunts, from school friend who lived in northern New Hampshire; and so, weary oi the early terrors of the great war wes looming backly in tho distance, tired from the two years in Europe that followed her school days, and the long winter of dissipation in the city she had minated to her ohedient parents her desire to visit Franconia; II House accordingly.
 Here she met Tom Creighton; his father and mother lived on farm near by, and the handsome young lawyer from New York had come up to say goodby to them for he had enlisted in a volunteer regiment and daily expected orders to the front.
 Viva had met him often in society, and the two opposite natures, in measure counterparts, had been mu- tually attracted. Tom Creighton was a typical New Englander, strong ob- stinate, enduring with rigid sense of duty as his dominant trait. He did not entirely approve of the war, for he was naturally conservative; but he considered that he ought to go and go he would. It was thorough surprise to both the pair, this meeting among the mountains; and 1t was the last thing Tom Creighton intended, to fall in love with Miss l. L'Estrange. much less to let her know it, but he could not help himself; with characteristic impetuosity she lost her heart in these solitudes, where all the real character of the young man showed itself, no longer overlaid by the GUS toms of society. She saw how true, how tender, how brave he was; how superior to the society men who had bored her in New York She had in deed distinguished him there from a certain superiority of aspect, but now she knew and loved him, and showed 1t with such naive simplicity that Tom, for all his good resolutions, broke down and fell at her feet. Only q day had their engagement been made known when the summons Tom ex- pected came. Viva was almost fran- tic. It was the first time in her lie that her will had been useless; but now 1t beat against a rock.
 Tired with the vain struggle, repeat ed till Toms heart ached to it's depths, she at length recognized that his strength of character must dominate hers; and after long. wild flood of tears and n convulsion of sobs, she said at last:
 "u you will so--if you must-prom- iDe me to live, to come backr'
 "T promise to come back If I do live, Viva. How can say willlive? That is the chance of war and the will of God"
 Promise, promisel" she shrieked. "You must promise me to livel Ishall dc here, right in your arms, unless You dol"
 Her pallid face, her streaming eyes, khe sobb that seemed to rend her slight