Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1898-11-23
CHAPTER 1.

LOOK at me, SAID q clear, sweet voice
with something both of laughter and tears
in it; look at me. Vivian How can !
ever be Il great lady? Nature never in.
tended me for one
Nature has made you queen by right
of divine grace and beauty" was the earn
est reply, ''and Nature. Violante, is a lady
who never makes mistakes"
But" cried the rich voice again, "a
lady. Vivian, to have n title to my name
to live at a grand castle, to have servant.
ane carriages. jewels. and all kinds o.
grandeur! Why. Vivian, l should no
even know myself"
But i should know you. and that ii
more to the purpose" he replied.
Better any pain now," she said, thar
that hereafter you should repent; and
Vivian, we are so far apart, our live:
have been so different. You would re
pent, l am sure
I'VE are not far apart" he replied, hast
lily. IF you mean by that that l have
thousands year and your father one
hundred, l maintain that you are quite
wrong. Your father is q gentleman. {
scholar, and man of honor. What am
more-even if l have so much?"
She made the most charming little cour
tesy, full of mock Difference and win
ming grace.
"You. monsignor," she interrupted, 'are
Lord Vivian Selwyn. Of Selwyn Castle
knight of the Order of the Garter. Baron
of Hulstone in Yorkshire, and of Craigh'
ley in Scotland. You see, l know your
name and titles by heart"
He smiled amusedly.
Never mind my titles" he said. "You
are the daughter of gentleman; you are
lady by instinct, by nature, by training,
by education. in manner, in thought, word
and deed. What can l desire moreT
There was still some hesitation in heI
lovely face.
"Fiolante." he whispered, "do you see
how the flowers bloom, and how theiI
leaves send out fragrant messages to theiI
ardent lover-the sun? Do you hear how
the birds sing? Do you hear the wind
whispering among the trees? Shall flow.
ers and birds and trees be more happy
than l :"
For the first time she turned and looked
at him. her beautiful eyes met his, and
rested in them. In that quiet, serene
glance, the destiny of their lives was set
tied.
The world is full of beautiful pictures
Some hang on the walls of grand old gal
leries; some on the walls of palaces whose
I,
brighten humber homes; some are placed
In old cathedral aisles-Over the affairs OF
churches; some have never been framed
or painted. save by the hand of the Great
Creator-pictures whose beauty makes
earth so fair; pictures of white, feecy
clouds sailing over blue sky; of golden
sunshine falling in soft rays: of pale,
pure stars, making more solemn the sol
enln night-tide; such pictures as touch
mems hearts with n sense of the sublime
bringing deep, holy rapture into the SOU.
and tears of earnest gratitude to eyes long
dry.
And surely the fairest, the sweetest
the purest picture of all was this one
upon which the sun shone like a smile
from heaven. The picture of long green
lane where the grass grew soft and thick,
where the banks presented one mass OF
bloom. and the hedges were white With
hawtborn-a green, shady, fragrant lane,
such as one only sees in Old England.
There was the quaint, picturesque town
of Woodeaves lying in the Leicestershire
hills, half buried in green foliage sur
rounded by thick woods, by rich green
clover meadows, by golden cornfields, 10y
fertile pasture lands, fiowery gardens and
fruit-laden orchards, stretching out to the
purple hills as to an unknown land.
There was grand old church whose
spire pointed like slender hand to heav-
en-. 1t was covered with ivy, and inclos-
ed by tall oak trees. under whose shade
the dead slept so quietly and SO we'll The
houses were pretty and stood embowered
in trees.
That was the picture one saw from be-
tween the trees: and then, turning to the
stile at the end of the lane, there was
another picture even fairer still
Behind a cluster of golden laburnums
and purple lilacs, there stood pictur-
esaue. gray old house, frightened by scar
let creepers. by purple wisteria, and climb
ing woodbines; house with large, bright
windows, framed in trailing flowers and
roses of white and red, with quaint Old
gable ends and deep, overhanging caves,
where birds built their nests and sparrows
chirped.
A house that stood in a most bewilder,
ing rarden-not square and trim and laid
ont as the Dutch like to see-but full of
hooks and corners; full of trees, whose
roots were hidden in great masses of
micnonette and Glove carnations: full OF
old-fashioned flowers such as poets loved
- long years ago-sweet peas and sweet
williams, southernwood and pansIes, Ililes
and roses. Every path had charm OF
its own, leading either to fragrant rose
bushes or beds of white lilies or plots OF
rope-red Strawberries or raspberries run
ming wild. At the end of the garden stool
the pretty rustic old stile; golden labur-
NUNS dropped over it, and tall lilacs stood
proudly near; and here the sunbeams fell
ms though they loved to linger. for they
Frightened the fair head of one OF the
Unrest girls who ever looked up TO the
summer skies 80
with the laburnums dropping over ner
Her lover had pushed aside the boughs,
sind they made a frame for her lovely,
: siouant face He was bending over her,
tatching the play of her beautiful lips.
Yrinking III the ever-changing beauty OF
ier eyes.
She was a fair picture. No artist ever
o,inted. no poet ever sung of fs.'rer. She
couId not have been more than sers nteen
Her girlish. slender figure was fuli of
rr.,,e. every mG-nGent full of harmony.
II was af exquisite yroportions. with Stop
ing shoulders and a carriage full OF easy
d;.,,i.v She embodied the very poetry
of motion, so fun of unstudied elegance.
No vsa,.der the sunbeams fingered "r
that face: it was peerless, 1t was not or
the patrician type, it was not high BRED
hut il was. the face of a beautltul, SIM
ole. loving girl; it was full of thought and
vet one could see that she
was all unframed; it was full of poetry,
~fth delicious little dimples playing round
the sweet lips-dimples that, when she
smiled. deepened into beauty that COM
pletely dazzled one.
It was an uncommon type OF face; the
eomplexiop Of wonderful fatSnese-wnite'