The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1892-09-07
Selected Storp.
Society Fibs; or, The Story of a
White Lie.
ITO be true is to hate every form of false.
hood. ~. ". Robertson.

Z" To be true is to hate every form of false
hood" ~. w. Robertson.
PART 1.
Perhaps there is no pleasanter town
than Greenport on the New England
coast. The village, nestled in long
narrow valley fanked by wooded hills,
looks down upon the sea. The houses
on the principal street are all much
alike, so far as symmetrical doors and
windows can make them-save Miss
Ravmond's. 1t is pretty house inside
and out, sunny and snug in winter, and
cool and shady in summer. Its pointed
roof, high chimney and mullioned win
dows have picturesque appearance,
though without any pretensions to arch
itectural effect.
Now in mid-spring it was cool enough
toward nightfall for bright fire in the
luxurious library. Two ladies sat at
the study table. A glance defined their
social position. Wealth and refinement
were accentuated by every detail of
their apparel. They were obviously
relatives, by strong family likeness, yet
with individual difference. Both were
tall, fair and essentially we'll bred.
Miss Raymond, or Miss Margaret, as l
like to call her, was even more than
courteous. She possessed sweet gra-
ciousness of manner that proclaimed
kindly heart. rich in sympathy and
warm. healthful affection. This quick
sensibility shone in the clear depths of
her hazel ewes and impaired a winning
charm to her words. In age she be-
longed to the generation of women,
rapidly aging now, who were in the
dawn of love. youth and beauty at the
fateful period we remember as war
time"
The hour 1 introduce you to Miss
Margaret she was sitting, as 7 said. by
the study table, volume of Flaxman's
outlines open before her, and sheets of
sketching paper, some traced with fair
copies of her exquisite models, and 9TH
ers with her own scarcely less lovely
ideals. Her COMPANION, Maud Hoff-
man, girl of eighteen, came near to
being very beautiful. Her profile was
almost Grecian, her eyes large and
dark, and her fair hair grew in wavy
abundance. Ordinarily Maud was with
out much color, but when interested or
excited bright glow came into her
cheeks. and kindled a light in her
eyes, and played about her mouth,
which was beautiful in form, and most
sweet in expression. These signs of
animation were very apparent as with
an air of impotence she closed the
book she had tried in vain to read.
For moment she stood by the window
looking out at the sea, and then she
pushed crimson hassock in front of
the fire and sat down, ostensibly to
watch the CHEEKY blaze, which gave
forth the radiance that turks in
driftwood in hues of deep red, blue,
violet, yellow and weird sea greens.
1t emphasized her unconscious grace of
attitude. Her elbow rested on her
knee, her chin was supported in the
hollow of her upllfted hand, her long
dark lashes showed delicately over her
downcast eyes, and she had pushed the
hair back from her broad, low fore
head.
Miss Margaret's heart was full of
tenderness as she gazed at the fair
young girl. She had noted earlier in
the day the look in Maud's tell-tale eyes
that conveyed, unaware, the hint of
some regret, while her sweet mouth
had been more firmly set than its wont.
But Miss Margaret had not appeared to
observe the indications of ANNOYANCE.
Nevertheless thew determined her to
speak of grief about which she had
been silent for years. They led her
also to do her part, as an older woman
should, toward making the way easy
for the girl to tell her trouble. if she
wanted sympathy or counsel. This was
less difficult from the fact that, unknown
to Maud, Miss Margaret knew the secret
of the trouble. She knew it was due to
what Maud was wont to lightly call ga |
society fib. white lie, made iustifiable |
by social usage" Miss Margaret had |
often demonstrated against the fallacy
of the fashionable code which main
tains that politeness and the making
others feel at ease warrants the use of
statements at variance with truth; but
until now it had not occurred to her to
enforce her arguments by the recital of
how, in her own experience, the false
use of three brief words had caused ir-
retrievable and lifelong sorrow.
PART II.
The light in the room was fading into
twilight when Miss Margaret began her
tale. Her voice was soft and low,
sWeel as SONY, leT manner QuleJ ana
composed, as she said: " Listen, Maud,
and | will tell you story of my youth"
Without more of preface she began,
saying: 81 had known Ralph Gordon
for full two years before the news from
Fort Sumter flashed through our land,
kindling into action thousands of brave
men and timid women, who were strong
to suffer with our suffering land for
conscience sake. Until that hour we
had never thought shadow could
come between us and the sunshine of
our gladness. We were such young
things, so light-hearted,
"The world was boundless for we did not know
And life poem for we had not sung"
As she uttered these words the light
in Miss Margaret's eyes grew soft and
tender. After little pause, she said
" Ralph Gordon was among the early
volunteers. He was straightway ap.
pointed captain, and his regiment
speedily ordered to report at Baltimore.
1t was a Monday morning when
4I,a,, 1orN n II