The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1892-03-30

ought TO go in. L forgot that Mrs.
Fleming sent for me to play Bertha's
accompaniment"
"Ah, no, don't go back among all
those people. Stay here in the moon
| light and let me talk to you"
Another wave of the self-scorn which
| bad Inundated the governess that after.
noon seconded his entreaty. "Why,"
Amy Cuthbert said to herself, CIV v
should she not sit down and talk to MI.
Kenneth as any friend or acquaintance
would do?
81 shall be glad to have you talk to
me; and tell me about that last picture
you were so much interested in" she
responded.
Il have not touched it for a week.
am tired of attempts in art" and the
young aristocrat moodily tossed his
heavy hair away from his brow. ~
believe l shall keep only one picture of
all those have painted this summer. d"
|" And what is that?" she asked, I'M
suspectingly.
" A st. Cecilia"
Amy Cuthbert could not repress a
start at this unexpected reply. Neither
could she at once find fitting rejoin-
der. She sat in silence, idly pulling to
pieces blossom of Virginia ere, per,
thankful that shadows hid her face.
" No, will not keep that picture,
either" her companion continued, i'm
petuously. 81 do not want to remem-
Der you with that cold, pure, rapt ex
preston have depicted. l will rather
paint you as a Madonna-a happy, ra-
diant, beautiful woman"
"You hatter my face it suits neither
of those characters"
{" How might paint you, then?"
" AS Elaine, perhaps" she answered,
with sigh-"if were young enough"
"Elainc! No; if l painted you thus,
L would paint Lancelot kneeling before
you, as the
Red-cross knight forever kneeled
To lady in his shield
And you, if Lancelot were kneeling be-
fore you, would you smile upon him?"
Something in the voice, something in
the flushed face uplifted in the moon
light thrilled her strangely. Why did
Mr.. Kenneth talk to her 50? She
forced herself to answer:
Il" l could not be the lilly maid of
Astolat if l did not smile on Lancelot."
But cannot paint you, for l have
rarely seen you smile-have never once
seen YOU look glad and care-free.
"And yours" he added in lower tones,
sis the face of all in the world that 1
most wish 10 see happy and bright"
Involuntarily the listener started at
the words, and quick heart-thrill dis
turbed the even answer.
Like most of the race, l am neither
very happy nor extremely miserable"
"But is not happiness possible? Let
me make you happy by the effort of my
whole life. Miss Cuthbert, why will
you not understand me? l want to tell
you that love you.'
The last leaf of the blossom she had
ruined fell on the grass. The hand
that had held IL was prisoned in two
others, and the moonlight shone on the
earnest dark eyes that were trying to
see her face. Amy Cuthbert's resur-
rected romance, warm and glowing
with life, stole back into her heart and
fired her pale cheeks with bushes.
Half incredulous, she listened, as the
voice went on, passionately.
Il love you. My darling, my rose
of life, what will you say to me because
l love your"
Reader, what do you think Amy
Cuthbert answered? On the one hand
lay the desert of life, unsunned and I'M
varied; on the other waited love, Joy,
light and beauty. Could she turn
away, when
From lands of bliss enchanted, over
wastes of sunset sea-
Snowy. sailed and crimson tinted sped a
wondrous argosy"?
In the waning moonlight, amid the
dying year, she read another page of
her idyl-an idy ! destined 10 grow fairer
and dearer through many coming
year. So ended Miss Cuthbert's birth
day.-Harper'S Bazar.