The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1920-02-26

4
eternally quarter past six.
Bravo Magnasco replied, making
an effort 10 laugh and succeeding only
in making an uncomfortable grimace
In this way they viii rot annoy you
with their tran, tran.
Certainly; tu dixistil Speaking Of
tran tran, do you know, Felicino. tha,
you made me real gift with your
theory of the unknown, the god Fate,
and reasoning with ones feet? With
out that prominently philosophical
discourse of yours, ! should have
gone to bed, instead Of remaining here
stretched out upon this sofa waiting
for the unknown. The unknown
would not have come had you not left
that door open, and the god Fate
could not have broken the monotony
of my existence. Felicino, my friend,
shake hands, and have no grudge
against friend, if he happens this
morning TO be happier than you. Now,
what do you think Of this?
Very fine, and ! deserve it! But
you will tell me
Yes, everything :. If my beautiful
betrothed will permit.
Why not? said Laura. There, is
nothing that should not be told. But
let US go, for it is adready broad day
light.
Cousin, said Felicino Magnasco, will
you permit me to offer you my arm ?
My friend Roberto win not be jealous ?
Oh! hope not, she answered, giving
Roberto one Of those glances which
women alone can give, and on great
occasions.
My readers, here my story ends;
but that you may not say left you
abruptly, | shall add few more notes,
by way of epilogue.
And in prints | shall state that
forty days later, Laura Mongolia,
the lovely widow (widow after two
months marriage with decrepit un-
cle) was marrying for the second
time, nay the first, the lawyer Roberto
Fenoglio.
The ceremony was performed in the
fashionable church Of the Maddalena.
There were numerous friends, and
among them Felicino Magnasco, who
had finally learned all the particulars
of that strange night, and had not yet
recovered from his surprise.
The couple, Immediately they had
pronounced the very sweet yes, start
ed for the country. They did not
fancy going to Paris, or London, or
spending the first days Of love in the
dust Of the highways, among the piles
of baggage and the inevitable confus-
ed prosaic mass of travelling necessi-
ties, or making the stale hangings of
an hotel apartment, the confident of
their whisperings of love.
They went instead to a country seat
Of Roberto's, delightfully."- situated up
on a hill, overlooking the sea, pretty
little two-story villa, surrounded by
flowers, with two slopes Of grape-vines
and woods, the vines on the sunny
side; the woods on the shady. The
first balmy breath of springtime was
covering nature with verdure, enamel
ing with bright tints the background
Of the most beautiful picture of love
that could ever enter the mind Of an
artist.
Up there they saw no one, nor did
they receive or desire news Of anyone.
Letters arrived and they were left un-
opened; newspapers were heaping up
IN confusion on a stand near the wall,
with bands unbroken.
After a month Of this life, they re-
nembered one day that they had
promised to return to Genoa: but they
It only to look into each |
,ther's eyes. laughing. and repeat that
friends and relatives might. wait a
good while yet.
Brief, shall ! tell you, they did not |
stir the whole summer, and they would
nave remained still longer till late in
he autumn, if Signora Laura had
not really been obliged to go to the |
,ity, for certain preparations which
nay be guessed.
On the day Of their departure, they
walked slowly down the hill e.. She |
vas not as sprightly as on the first
lay she had come up there, and need /
= to lean firmly upon Roberto's arm. /
Both she -and be, looked back at ev-
~ step 10 gaze at their beautiful /
lest. resplcndcnt IN the sun shine. and
we're repeating 20 one another: eve
.hall return! We shall return in thc
.pring, Oh, how long the time vii
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