The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1896-05-20
How Jess Proposed.

could never quite forgive a certain
somebody whom Jess lovingly called
"Ned" for stealing my little Jess
heart; and one day told her so.
We were sitting together in the ham
mock that swung gently to and fro be-
tween stately elms in the midst of the
beautiful flower garden of Jess Shell
don's summer home at Rye. l had
been spending a week with my friend,
whole sweet, delightful week, 30 like
the old college days again-without
any Ned to spoil (or meg its happy
| hours.
1t was Saturday afternoon, and Ned
was eXpe ;ted up from New York on
the six o'clock train. l was sorry. Jess
was in the seventh heaven of sweet an
ticipation. She was looking her best,
which means that she was looking be-
witchingly lovely. There was the love-
light in her eyes, those great, soft
bro wn eyes, and loves emblem-one
deep red rose-in her hand; and as she
sat at my side, with her face partly
turned from me, knew that she was
thinking of Ned.
My dire threat of being unforgiving
seemed to affect her but little, for she
laughed merrily at me. Perhaps she
knew me too we'll to believe me, or per-
haps she trusted confidently to Ned's
irresistible charms and powers TO melt
my heart.
CAT any rate" l added, "you're
suCh dear little creature, Jess, that if
this knight of yours is not all, and far
more than your love pictures him, l
don't see how he ever had the assurance
to make love to you"
"But suppose he didn't" suggested
Jess, turning toward me with merry
twinkle in her eyes.
"Didn't what?" l asked.
"Why, make love- to me. Suppose
1 did it,-that is, first, you know" she
said, with blush.
"Jessl" 1 exclaimed, what do you
mean?"
She nestled close to me, linked her
pretty arm within mine, and said, I'll
tell you how it happened"
"You know that about year ago l
inherited snug little fortune from my
grandfather, and that, besides this, my
parents are rich. Not bad state to be
in, you'll allow. Quite enviabe, in fact;
and yet I'd scatter my riches to the four
winds if l thought they would ever
noblest-" (and here l was compelled
to curb my curiosity and listen to a
spirited eulogy On the virtues of Ned).
"We met last winter at Lakewood, and
from the first day that | saw Ned and
his companions, felt peculiar inter-
est in them. Not matter of love at
first sight at all, but just as 1 said, an
interest such as one feels in group
one meets in railroad car or in an
afternoons walk.
"There were three of them-two
boys, lads of about twelve and four
teen; the jolliest, heartiest boys l have
ever met. Handsome fellows, too
perhaps bit too fair, but with such
glorious compilations, and such clear,
frank, blue eyes, and forms that were
sturdy and strong. There was every
indication of wealth in their dress. 1t
was of fine material, the latest cut, and
without stint. They were brothers !
knew at a glance.
young man, their senior by ten or
twelve years. He, too, was handsome,
but of quite another type. His hair
and eyes were dark and his complexion
inclined to be swarthy. He certainly
, | Wao HOt UlOlucI W tuc pOtps DColuCo3
his clothes told story very different
from theirs. His linen wasjimmaculate,
his clothes well pressed; but it was
evidently many moons since they had
left the hands of the tailor, and hard
service had made them too familiar
with the severity of the whisk.
zone day l learned that he was
tutor to the boys, and was struggling to
pay his way through college; and-well,
it was just like me to feel deeper in
! terest than ever. | wanted to do
something for him. Don't imagine
that was romantic enough to fall in
love with the poor tutor then and there
Nothing of the sort. We merely eX-
changed commonplaces when We met,
and although once or twice | caught
him looking at me across the dinner
table, there was nothing in the express
sion of his grave, dark eyes that caused
any unusual futterings in my heart.
(" A decided friendship, however, had
sprung up between the younger of the
two boys and me. One day, while we
were talking together, our conversation
fell upon his studies. He spoke French
fuently, and, regretfully, | confessed
, that / was not so thorough in it as
| should like to be.