The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1892-03-30
Selected Storp.
Miss Cuthbert's Birthday.


from the columns of figures she had
been CORE citing, and met the puzzled
blue eyes of little May Fleming.
"Why do you ask me that question,
May?"
The child flushed and hung her head.
Nothing; only last night when you
and Mr.. Kenneth came III the gate, we
were all on the piazza, and mamma
said Mr.. Kenneth seemed very-some.
thing French; and Alice said that was
too absurd, for you were only govern
ess, aud an old maid besides; and Bertha
said"
"Never mind what Bertha SAID.
Your mamma and sisters would not like
you to repeat what you happen to hear
them remark"
"Have l said anything bad, Miss
Cuthbert2" aid the blue eyes grew
wistful as they noted the unwonted
flush on the governess' cheek.
"No, dear, certainly not" and she
smiled down in Mays doubtful face as
she gave her the kiss of dismissal. But
the smile fade as soon as the small OBJ
server vanished, and, tossing her scat
tered books together, the governess
fastened out of the sunny, dusty school
room, and up 10 her own apartment.
Do hope and romance never die in a
woman's heart 2" Sitting with clasped
hands and bent head, the governess re-
viewed the two months that had elapsed
since the morning when Bertha Flem-
ing, smiling saucily at her sister over
the top of an outspl cad newspaper, had
inquired:
"Say, AL, which of your New York
Adonises do you think is in this neigh
borhood?"
"How can 1 tell?" and the golden.
haired Miss Fleming went on asserting
her worsteds.
{" suppose you could tell by reading
this paper, but I'll save you the trouble.
It's nobody less than Mr.. Carl Kenn eth =,
the young and gifted artist Now, as
you didn't catch him last season, aren't
you glad pas country-seat is located in
this romantic spot? Oh. don't trouble
yourself to blush so, Al!"
Blush, indeed! You are too imper-
tinent. If l were your governess, 1
would teach you better manners"
GOOD manners don't run in our
family" was the serene response.
When l reach your age III begin to
cultivate them"
But go on about Mr.. Kenneth"
interposed Mrs. Fleming-a matronly
lady, who loved her ease too well to in
terfere with the little passages at al ms
between her daughters. els he alone
here?"
No, mamma; there are other artists
mentioned. One is that dried-up Mr..
Fippio ha,o on fop1 Of
"Who, by the way, is an artist of
great merit" remarked Miss Alice,
with much asperily.
Well, well, my dears, we must have
Mr.. Kenneth here to dinner. And
We'll invite his friend, Of course"
So it had happened that the two
artists had been guests at the Jennings
for an evening, which proved an intro
duction TO much pleasant social inter-
course. Having been prepared to see
in Mr.. Kenneth only handsome, fash
ionable, self.conscious devotee of art,
the governess had been astonished to
meet one who seemed scarcely more
than boy, with all the ardor and en-
thusiasm of young life flushing his
cheek and firing his glance, who yet
possessed that subtle refinement, deli
cacy and dreaminess which mark the
true artist.
That had been the beginning. From
that evening the sober governess, who
had thought her romance dead, had be-
come conscious of a new element in
her eventless life. How had she man.
aged to forget that she was only gov
erness and be the heir of milions?-
she woman past the heyday of life, he
in the very prime and glory of youth?
All, what a foolish dream And,
now, awakened by that careless shaft
of ridicule, she must pay the cost of
her folly in these bitter tears, falling on
cheeks that burned at the remem-
brance of her presumptuous fancies.
Young Mr.. Kenneth had been kind
and chivalrous to her, as it was his
nature to be to every woman. Per-
haps he had been kinder to her out of
pity. And she-well, thank heaven,
no one would ever know of it, this idyl
of a dead summer; this idyl that she
would bury in the sunset of her thir-
tieth birthday!
1t was late when knock at her door
was followed by the delivery of a
message:
If Miss Cuthbert is not indisposed,
Mrs. Fleming would be glad to have
her come down. Miss Bertha can't
sing without her accompaniment"
Rousing herself with an effort, the
governess was astonished to see moon
light already silvering terrace and lawn.
The afternoon had long passed, and
merry voices below told her that, as
usual, the Femings' hospitable par
lors were filled with guests. How
could she 90 down? But mechanically
she had said YES" to the servant
maid; so mechanically she rose and
dressed, removing as far as possible
the traces of tears, and saying bitterly
to herself, as she cast last glance at
the pale face reflected in her mirror,
What does it matter how look?"
The maelstrom of gay life surged
around her as she reached the hall.
Bertha Fleming, followed by noisy
party, rushed in from the terrace, wav-
ing book above her head.
"Oyez! Oyez! Come here and i'm