Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-03-24

hess. He gazed helplessiy at Ulyssa. OBJ
serving without interest that her skin, at
once pale and dark. was the chief reason Of
her ugliness. For distinctly the child's eyes
were clear and brown. her lips full Of
curves, her throat soft and full
AS she rose he drew a sigh OF relief.
He had been momen tarily afraid she meant
to decline his prefer. and he was glad that
| this did not appear to be her design. He
| wanted to dance with her so that he might
without remorse dismiss her utterly from
mind, and give himself to the delightful
| pastime Of engaging the other men by
monopohzing Lobelia Ivens, 2 buxom
| young person. whose frizzsd hair and
pink lawn shoulders and loud laugh were
impressing him even then from the door
way.
AS he tramped through the figures Of the
dance. Vercamp kept before him the at
tractive graces OF Miss Ivsns bouncing
| gayly to her partner across the room. 1t
cheered him to exchange a smile with this
! horid beauty; and he needed cheer. for
| the changes OF the set brought him always
back to the sad abstraction Of Ulyssas
! eyes. and the chill touch OF her Little
slighter than the fingers OF tho other girls.
At the end Of the dance he conveyed
! Ulyssa to a seat When. presently after.
he cast a glance toward the place where
he had left her. he saw that she was no
longer there.
"Lookin' for Lys?" queried Lobelia Ivens
with a gtggle. She's went home. Had a
headache''-she giggled stll more. and
added-"or a heartache." As Vercamp
drew his brovs at this. she thrust her ell
| bow at him with condescending gracious
ness. saving. 'Shes real sweet. Lys Is
Il didn't say she wasn't" contended
Vercamp. No doubt she was sweet hut
the girl at his side, In her exuberant color
and curves. was more to his liking. That
was all. Yet, strangely enough. as he lay
awake that night reviewing the nights
happenings. It was not Lobeiia's face which
REQUIRED most tnsistently TO his mind.
The moonlight streaming in his window
the sheen Of far-off stars, the black bushes
grazing the sill-these things. oddly enough,
| united to recall the pallor of Ulyssa Rett's
face. the glow of her eyes, the crinkly
black Of her hair. Nercamp did not at
tempt to account for this freak OF his
imagination. But as he d-owsed nearer
sleep he formula ted a decision that he vns
glad the time of tides in the river was at
an end. and that he would soon be leaving
the village for a prolonged trip through the
mountains to brand timber for the mill
In the three months OF his absence ulys.a
would forget him. Common sense would
come TO her aid. She would remember
| that though she was not beautiful she WAS
an heiress and that Vercamp was not only
| unloving. but also just a poor logger. with
[ no prospects whatever.
He saw nothing of her In the few days
preceding his departure. But on the morn
| ing when he rode up hill on a shaggy hiil
| horse, with a branding ak in his saddle
bags and a massive spur on his heel be
saw the curtain of a window Of the house
I'm which Ulyssa lived with her uncle's
FAMILY move little 1t fell together sud-
denly, as IL a shaking hand had loosed IL
Ana Nercamp, replacing his broad hat
| had a Juggling sensation at the heart which
! seemed only accountable on the theory
that he was sorry If Ulyssa was in grief,
Lying by night rolled in a blanket under
some great tree, or perhaps in a mountain
hut, with stars staring pensvely upon him
d nllsrh hA sxa-N 4e,,sz.
the young man more than once thought Of
! Ulyssa- But after a time, in the ardor of
trade and the eXigencies of mountain travel
the idea of the girl wore of; and when,
along in September, he came back to the
! river town, bearded like a Persian and
brown as the hillside hedges, he had almost
! lost all notion of the little village heiress.
Nor did the first day serve to recall her
and OF great rise in Ne-camp's CONNER
c.ai fortunes. Ulyssa was not even a pale
wrath of memory. For the young man
| had brought about what was spoken OF as
"a big DEAL for the mill while away on his
journey, and in recognition Of his ia ctfll
handling OF certain gruff old fellow who
owned tract on which the mill had long
! desired to lay its hand, Vercamp was Of
fered the high position of superintendent.
| Don't reckon you'll mix with us fellers
no more, tentatively advanced the saw
yers assistant putting the big saw through
walnut log. Heb. Bertr'
oh. get out!' laughed vercamp, fiat
| tered at this tribute TO his new Sonors
No bell stuff in that timber, Jones. It's
wind shook. Cut II into inch goods What
! do you mean by saying / won't rntx With
was?"
Il was tokin'," signined Jones. MY
sister Lete's goin' to marry Ways Hines
tonight. Po'rful pleased to hey Won sam
pie the brides cake"
Proud to do IT." cried vercamp. He
mad not seen any Of the girls as yet. and
! wedding would Cfr
| renew old interests of this kind.
He had hardly stepped into the house Of
the sawyers assistant before he became
| aware that his value as an individual vas
subtly enhanced by his business snccasSas
Every one dotted the cap to vercanp's ris
| ing crest Those who had formerly been
merely friendly now We're almost servile.
Inc bride left her husbands hand to Greet
| the superintendent and Lobelia Ivens re-
splendent In pink ribbons and wi-y faces
| 1alrIy ignored her court to smile on him
Nercamp expanded genially. He was
young and aduiation is pleasant He felt
that he desired nothing more in life. And
| as this fact dawned upon him he sud5enlv
recoiected the girl who had been accus-
| toned to spoil his pleasure with the simnIa
| so:rowfulness OF her presence
He cast a swift eve round him. Rut the
big low-beamed room held no hint OF the
small richly clad, pieiptively ugly crea-
lure ne sought He had an impulse 70 osk
about her. but just then supper was an
nounced by the brides mother n cor1Ia1
but anxious person. and vercamp offered
| his arm 10 Lobelia
| The clatter Of heavy crockery. Of boots
or chairs In movement sounded from, tie
echolng deal walls OF the room IN which
the table was set. Candles sputterad ON
the mantel, branches of green thrust for
ward here and there from a whitenod
BEAM and punches of late flowers we're
grouped woodenly at corners of the board
/ everything wore an air of festival Tut
as the brides eye lighted on the empty
| M hA .,ll
gave little shrek
| Well she said. IF you haven't forgot
TO set the weddin' cake on!''
Mrs. Jones clapped a distracted hand 10
her head. I'm nigh near deranged znv-
how, she admitted. set up, every enc.
and fall to-" Then. opening the Kitchen
door, she called out, Fetch in the cake.
and watch out you don't jar the frostIn' :
! Nercamp. arranging himself at I,obelia's
SIDE, caught murmur of admiration.
The handsomest cake I most ever sawr"
"a rale picture-'
| tbs 50! Too pretty to eatr'
! And them icin' rosesi-ain't they pron-
er?-as fair-favored as the stone flowers on
Jay Inns wife's tombstoner'
! Nercamp looked with awe at the big white
| shape from the middle of which bristled a
| tuft of glttering tinsel As il was solemn
| ly lowered into the comport, the young
| man gave start and then sat clutching
! his fork and staring blanklv She vrbo ba A