Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1898-03-12
A NIGHT ON MT. MONROE.

OF the courtyard of the Crawford
House that beautiful August morn
ing, equipped for the toilsome as
cent of Mount Washington.
The gentlemen were laughingly
prophesyiug the speedy repentance
of the ladies, when they should see
how rough and frighttul the bride
path would grow by and by, the lad
les protesting that only the gentle.
men were frightened and amid the
pleasant hiliarity, the weather stain
ed guides touched their hats to the
loungers on the piazza, spoke to the
little shaggy mountain horses, and
the cavalcade was lost to view in the
spruce and hemlock thicket which
covers the first part OF the Crawford
bride path.
There were but ten of the party
four ladies and six gentlemen-be.
sides the guides. All were mounted
on the tough, rough coated horses
that are alone suited to this hard
service, the gentlemen in monde.
script suits Of clothing borrowed al
the hotel, the ladies in coarse riding
habits and straw hats.
A few words will suffice for the
intro ducti' Of he larger portion OIL
the party.
Three were family men, New York
merchants, with their wives two
were Harvard students, acquaint.
ances Of the families one was q
stranee gentleman who had reached
the mountains from Canada, and
been recommended by the landlord
to take this opportunity of ascend.
ing in company with the others, in.
stead of waiting, as he had proposed
till the following day, and then 60.
log up with a guide himself.
He had been presented simply as
Mr.. Ridgewood, of Philadelphia, and
this was all his companions of today
knew Of him.
His appearance, however, was in
his favor. He was indisputably
handsome, but there was a certain
look of ennui, varied at times by
something reckless in the express
sion of his great dark eyes, that
might have satisfied close observer
that Mr.. Ridgewood had drunk
deeply of what we call the pleasures
of life, and had found them but the
apples of Sodom.
The other member of the party
deserves more than a passing notice.
A beautiful woman like Constance
Leach always receives more. She
was q New York belle, in her third
season, chaperoned to the mountains
by Mrs. Randolph, the stately lady
whose iron gray horse led the cor
tege.
Close behind Miss Leach rode
Ar bur Hurst, the only one of her
satellites who had followed her on
her northern tour.
Mr.. Hurst was just let loose from
Harvard, two years advanced in his
legal studies-an aristocrat, with
wealth amply sufficient to keep mp
his state, and deeply in love with
Miss Leach. The lady's mother
favored the high-bred sutton. Con
stance said little on the subject.
Hurst was an agreeable compan-
ion-she felt no particular respect
or regard for him beyond that. She
was content to let him remain as her
friend.
Men called her beautiful. This
morning she was more than that.
The Keen mountain air had flushed
her cheek to more vivid crimson,
and threw the loose masses of her
hair into ripples ofebon light. Her
dark, earnest eyes glowed as she
looked out over the magnificent pic
ture opening around her-her soul
stood dumb amid those affairs built
by the hand of the living God.
She took no part in the merry
conversation going on around her.
Indeed, it was doubtful if she heard
it. She wanted to keep silent, and
worship thus the in6nitude of gran
deur, in which all thought of sell
was lost.
The path grew rough and toll
some. The rugged brow of Mt.
Clifton was reached and passed,
Mount Pleasant and Franklin we're
gained and then they descended in
to the valley going through Frank
lin and Monroe, that twin brother
of Mount Washington.
Constance was weary of riding,
and dc snite the nrfiHsfaiiana nf iha