The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1891-08-19

ty"
''l don't know. You can't expect one
to know" said Mr.. Warield with inten.
ton.
al wish," Miss Ventnor explained.
knitting her fine brows, "that you would
not say such ridiculous thingsp
''Do you cali them ridiculousg" asked
the young man with shade Of pallor on
his check
"Yes," curtly.
The young man looked down anC
traced pattern on the gravel with the
end of his stick.
"You are awfully hard on fellow, ,
he said in moment without looking up
"Well, there is one thing" cried the
young lady, 'you can stand it. All mer
can"
Her fathers voice was calling her from
the house. Mr.. Ventnor wanted some
music. Gwendoline must sing for him.
"Come, Miss, I'll tolerate no shirk.
ing," he threatened ocosely.
'Pm not likely to shirk," announced
the young lady below her breath as she
bent over the piano near which Mrs. New
combe sat. "Tm too much relieved to
be freed from our visitor for while"
"Ah, my dear; you're a cruel girl.
You're breaking that poor fellows heart, -
murmured that little widow.
''Not at all likely" responded Miss
Ventnor preluding brilliantly.
Mrs. Newcombe had retreated to the
embrasure of window. Mr.. Ventnor
had ensconced himself iu an arm chair,
and Mrs. Ventnor sat, murmuring in I'M
dertones to one or two neighborly neigh
bors of her own age. Mrs. Newcombe
made little kindly sign to Edgar War
field, who stood vaguely near her, and
he dropped, with instant gratitude, into
chair by the window. There was in
this pretty woman's soft eyes look of
understanding the situation and an init
nation of friendliness toward him which
moved the Young man deeply.
Gwendolinc sang song after song, in
her full, rich voice, and Mrs. Newcombe
sat gently agitating her fan and listen
ing with smiling attention.
81 know no ones voice that charms
me as does Gwendoline's, she said, in
a little pause, turning to Edgar Warfleld.
lie felt his heart warming to Miss
Ventnor's young aunt.
"AIiss Ventnor's voice is wonderfully
Brilliant" he said, with lovers for
mality.
eyes, but it is not the brilliancy
alone. That is secondary matter,
though it is the most obvious, perhaps.
Gwendoline's voice is full of feeling, too.
But it is like herself. The feeling is not
Haunted on the surface"
Edgar Warfield felt as though his
wound was being touched by the gentlest,
most healing of sympathetic fingers.
His heart beat quickly. What charm
itg, speaking voice this young aunt of
Gwendolino's had, too. And how
quantity, delicately pretty she was. Her
color had the charming daiutiness, her
smile the fascinating occurrences of a
young Quakeress. Or was it the soft,
gray dress with the line of dazzling neck
showing above draperies of foamy lace,
that made her look sol Miss Ventnor
called her "Auut Phoebe" The funny,
old-iashioned name suited this exquisite
little person, somehow. In this light
she scarcely looked older than Gwendo-
line. But, of course, she must be.
When the singing was over Mr.. Vent.
nor proposed cards. Mrs. Ventnor
rapidly assorted couples, but Gwendo-
line, with a rapid counter -maneuvre,
headed her off.
81 can only play with papa" she as
serted with decision. "No one else un.
derstands my play"
"Then will Mr.. Warield play with
met" said Mrs. Newcomb. And In her
charming glance and smile the grateful
young man again read a full appreciation
of the bearings of his case and an inten-
tion to befriend him, to help him on.
Gwendoline, even with her fathers
vaunted understanding of her play, made
a number of blunders in her character
istically reckless fashion and talked a
good deal in brusque, crisp phrases,
throwing down her cards with her large,
shapely hand, undisguisedly brown by
exposure to the sun and air.
But Mrs. Newcomb's little white paw,
which crept out, with a glisten of rings
upon it, as gently as a kittens, only
played its cards to make tricks, and Ed
gar Warfeld, who was a methodical and
conscientious young man, was vaguely
yrieved and gratified the former that
,he charming Gwendoline should be so
Indifferent to a good game of
whist, and the latter that he, with his
help, should be making so good
showing.
On his way home that evening he said
o himself that he hoped Gwendoline's I
unt would remain with her some little {
lme. She might have an influence. He
lad fallen in love with Mr.. Ventnor's
beautiful daughter because of that Di-
na-like independence which seemed to s
SIX nothing of man, that brilliant, vir- J
Iininal Inconsistencies, that air of never S
aving bowed her stately young head to 5
acriice or to sentiment, which sat upon '
er with 50 bright a radiance. But now {
e asked himself, with sigh, whether /
he more conventional feminine charms /
nd virtues did not make a girl more |
onvenient and comfortable to get on {
nth. Perhaps if Gwendoline could be c
oftened a little-just a little-by the
ontagion OF her young aunt's delightful
lanner, it might be an added attraction
tho proud young beauty. How very i
Mrs. Newcomb's manner was. |
md she looked so girlish, too. He re- l.
rendered now that he had heard the n
'entnors say that she had married very a
oung, and that her husband had been &
great deal older than herself. He had a
led, leaving her very little property, c