Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1896-06-19

an received Ue1TlDle BnOOk bne luSbdub
that the door closed behind him, for Miss
Beatrice threw herself on q mountain of
pillows and INDUCED in deluge of good
salt tears, just the kind Eve would have
shed had fortunate Adam had to go
through the probationary period of lovers
disputes before she became Mrs. Adam.
She didn't know much of men in her
own life, only the dear, indulgent old
papa, who was said by all the family to
spoil her terribly, and Philip. She had
never had lover before and therefore did
not know what they did when they quar-
relied with their sweethearts. In books the
sighted hero Of olden times fell upon his
sword, but with a quaint little feminine
lack of farseeing logic she sighed content
eddy because she knew Philip had no
sword. Then she told herself, with fond
pride in her big lover, he was too brave and
sensible to do anything like that, and
when she found herself lost in an ocean Of
proud faith in Mr.. Ewing's manly good
sense she went off into n second spasm of
tears and shame Only she did hope that
he would go away-not too far, of course
so that she couldn't hear from him
Through other people, DO it UNDERSTOOD,
but far enough so that she could not meet
him.
where she was going TO pour. 1t would
never do in the world not to go, for the
girls must never dream that she cared,
but she ohoked again as she remembered
that he had promised to drop In near the
end with few of the men. And she knew
what that mearlC, for hadn't he dropped"
In every afternoon during the season, os-
tensibly to have her hand him cup Of
taa4 And hadn't he learned to bring
1 enough of the other fellows with him to
keep the rest Of the girls busy, so that he
| and tiny Bee could have their little talk
all alone2 In fact 1t was ut the end of the
| big, bewildering reception at which her
mother had introduced her at the begin
ming of the winter that he had first dared
to tell her his love-thcre when the last
few guests were lingering in the hall and
she had crept back to one Of the farther
tables, little flushed, weary maid in a
quaint, snowy gown, a bud already begin
ming to tire of the fierce light beating on
her dear, dazed head. She never afterward
could remember just how it came about,
/ but it began when his sleeve caught on
some Of the shining bits Of silver among
the ferns before her, and-and-well, she
was crying softly on his shoulder in less
thin moment, both of them so oblivious
of everything else that they didn't wake
till mamma stood before them with q
startled cry. Then they had to tell mann
ma, even before they had really told each
other very much, but papa liked Phil.
father so it had come out all right in the
end.
They had told everybody by this time
and the society columns had printed the
date of their wedding, with list Of th'
| bridesmaids, and she had ordered the be
loved gown, with its frightfully long trail
| and its stern air of severe matronly ele
| gance. And now there wouldn't be AM
wedding after all, and the girls would Civ,
| back the pretty pearl hearts she had pre-
sented to them as her attendants, anC
mamma would be SO ashamed of her tina
she would probably be sent abroad for
year or two. That wouldn't amount t,
much, however, as it would take her ava,
from Philip, and of course she must lear
as soon as possible to bear the parting
Did 1t take long to mend heart, sh
| questioned, into the midst of the big, we
pillow? Why was 1t women ever wer
made to care SO much for men If men wer
so cruell OF course it was all Philip
fault. He had never been in earnest wit
her, she supposed, and took this way Z
show it when he grew tired of her. Well
/
hard, too, and she was going to begin b
breaking every masculine heart at tina
tea that afternoon.
For" unused this desperate little gin
as she arraycd herself with feverish ski
| in the lovely new gown sent home tina
very morning, Il used to be glad l al
) | pretty because PHILIPPINE, Mr.. Ewing
| liked it. Now l am glad because l know
| will make me all the more capable {
, hurting him just as he has hurt me-"
Everybody marveled at Miss Lane
vivacity, and Tom Wells fairly tingle
with joy at the look she gave him whe
she dropped the tiny sweet cubes from he
r tongs into his fragile cup But when I'll
other guests We're gone to the dressin
! room and the men were waiting to escol
t their fluffy clad charges to the carriagt
Beatrice sat alone and forgotten. Phil
2 was late, and he strobe past the men int
( the drawing room and soon had found IL
table at which Beatrice was sitting. An
g when she looked up to see him standin
/ before her, with his fine head bowed al
! such cruel, white line about his lips, a
she could do was TO hold out her hand
| Philip took them.
S 1T saw all my fault, +" she breathed
mo, it was all mine" he Whispers
|
s with his face strangely sad and determine
1T has been terrible lesson, my Low
d and one we must never try again. Pc
= haps this may not have done much harI
: except''-and his voice grew husky
there will always be that little rift in Il
g lutte. 1 had hoped we should never ha'
L that to regret, but it came, and we mu
/ use it as warning. Hasn't it been teri
BILE enough, Beatrice, TO keep us from
forever"
Their hostess found them, both so wol
and yet so happy, that she understo'
without a word.
Come with me" was all she said al
taking them each by the hand she led the
back to dear little room, all palms al
i, blossoms and soft, rosy lights, and the
she left them, saying as she stole away:
[ Beatrice hasn't been well or happy IL
afternoon, and she is all worn out no
/ Do you know, Mr.. Ewing that when a
tired and heartsick there isn't anything
the world which rests me and makes 1
glad so much as my husbands kiss?'
, Iulia Fairfax in Chicago News