The Worcester spy. [volume] (Worcester, Mass.) 1898-1904, 1899-12-10

Rex Meredith was looking into the
young, upturned face with an express
sion half of pity, half of amusement.
In all his life-his reckless, happy, dare
devil life-he had seen nothing like
this creature beside him; nothing half
so fresh, so innocent and beautiful,
She was a rose, with the morning
dew yet bathing it's waxen petals;
cluster of ripe fruit, with the soft color
yet lying, dusty tint, upon it; ten
der, beautiful, living thing, almost
divinity in innocence and purity.
Her dress was a brown stuff, with
never a ruffle to relieve it. She wore a
white turned-over collar and a gold
cross to fasten it; her hair, with all its
thousand crinkling, shining waves
was combed back from her face and
tied with a blue ribbon, after the
fashion of the Scotch snood, and left
to wander at will over the gracefully
sloped shoulders, and look where you
would there was no sign of art or
fashion, only her beauty, freshness and
youth to designate her from the two
grandmothers who were her guardians.
80 you were never in love?" queried
worldly minded Rex Meredith, looking
down at her with those cruelty beau
tiful eyes of his and scanning every line
Of her sunny face.
I'm love? Yes, all my life, with my
two grandmas. Grandma Ventnor, she
is my fathers mother, and has planned
to keep the farm in order ever since
can remember-and all for me, mind
you. Grandma Thornton, my mother S
mother, has made the butter and kept
the house, and taught me to work and
be content. If ever any girl was
blessed, who had no parents to love
and care for her, it is myself; and I
love my two grandmas better than any
thing else in the world"
Better than you will ever love any
thing else?' he queried, in his persua-
sive voice and with his large, soft eyes
fixed pleadingly on hers.
She was not ruffled yet, even with all
these powers which in his life had so
seldom failed him, but with a steady
gaze looked up into his face, with the
calm, pGssionless eyes of a little child.
q hope so, for if I loved any one else
better, 1 think my grandmas would
turn away and grieve themselves to
DEATH
But you might like somebody lit
tie, pleaded this worldly tempter, UNI
willing to go away and leave this HUI
man flower to waste it's rare fragrance
mems hearts. you might like me a
little-just very little-for like your
self 1 am alone; aye, more alone than
yourself, for I have no grandmas to
love me"
She laughed and then grew full of
pity.
81 do like you-very, very much but
think you cannot need grandmas as
do"
NJ bo,,+ o,-o,, -, 80 Ill, A., a,.o,,
soft, trusting eyes were lifted to his
face, he drew nearer and nearer, until
he had left kiss upon the white fore
head
A great flood of crimson shot over her
face-a blush that colored the round
cheeks, the dimpled chin. the soft.
round throat, and hid itself beneath the
high brown dress; but she could not
hide the gladness in her eyes. A kiss
like this meant tenderness and love to
her, and who would not be loved by a
man like Rex Meredith. the handsom-
est fellow she, in all her simple life,
had ever seen?
"You ought not" she began, but he
checked her.
Don't say that, Ellie. I mean no
harm to you. No, rather I mean"
He did not end the sentence, for some
one called Ellie just then from the
bidding Ellie never disobeyed and she
turned and gave him a good-by from
her eyes and was gone.
"I had better go, too, and never come
back here" said Rex, leaning for a mo-
ment over the gate, and looking visit
fully at the farmhouse and it's little pa
radise Of trees, shrubs and poisoning
vines. "She would make her way into
my heart, and, once there-well the
4 Il, zoo 4 7 i
never find anything to remove her, and
I should lose my place and degenerate.
The wisest thing I can do is to go away
and forget"
So it would have been, but he did not
go away Through all the soft, hazy
summer he fingered in the village, near
the cottage of the simple grandmothers
and their little charge. Ellie, dreaming
idly away the hours among the sweet
scented shrubs and flowers and drink
ing in the beauty and fragrance Of that
one human fiower-the brightest, most
beautiful of them all.
He was writing poem when an in
spiration seized him, and in his heart
he knew he would succeed.
Succeed! Aye. why not? A year ago
he had held the world captive with the
magic of his slender pen-a year ago he
had woven wreaths of poetry, when his
illN was lcdCll Will lOOcSSV, Nil4C, say
music false, fair women, and the hurry
heat and recklessness of the great, moi
sy, laughing, hooking world.
Now the beauty and romance of an
italian summer clothed the earth, the
peace and holiness of Eden prevailed,
and a life fresh and untarnished from
the Creators hands lay within his reach,
to be nodded, fashioned as he would.
So he fingered, never daring, yet al
ways hoping to find the courage to
make her quite his own.
A letter brought him to his senses.
What 1t contained Ellie never knew,
but it took him away.
He came early one autumn morning,
when she was roaming among the flow
ers. and mourning with real regret ov-
er her delicate favorites-came to tell
her that he must say good-by
you will not quite forget me?' he
asked.
Forget him! Oh, tender little hearth
Why had he come to let this shadow in
upon it's brightness? Forget himi No,
never! Sleeping or waking, he would
be with her unto the very end of her
life!
And that was all he said to her. A
kiss upon the cheek, a touch upon her
hand, and he was gone.
"You are not yourself at all, Ellie"
said Grandma Ventnor, day after day,
as the light faded from the brown eyes