Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 17, No. 099, March, 1876

Woolsey woods, with their wooing fragrance of pine and soft rushes of scented air; and the lakes were in the distance, lying very calm in

ran a stiff little walk of white pebbl

ie!" I said with a shiver. "It is too hard. And

said my lady, turning full upon m

; and lovers," I would fain have added, "should

morning: at least," with a half-relenting look at my rueful face, "we ar

y carriage toiling up the hill, followed by a lighter phaeton. I recognized already in t

omised to marry me, and that their anxiety as to our intimacy may be at rest? Give me but leave and I will do it. It will

s-nothing stiff or frilled about her: all was soft and flowing, from the falling sleeve that showed the fair curve of her arm to the fold of her dress, the ruffle under which her little foot was tapping, imp

she uses a foreign tongue-and this I caught but imperfectly, but it

disappeared over the top of the hill. "Fanny Meyrick is going

thering old claim that had been handed down from generation to generation, and now springing into life again by the lapsing of two lives on the ot

h my stick, fatuously waiting for the subject to pass. Of course my

e, what is it to us whether

But your silence, your confusion-Charlie,

that adamantine candle too; and I was not long in discovering that the brown eyes were bright for each and all, and that the gypsy flush was never stirred by feeling or by thought. It was merely a fixed ensign of

-no, for wax will melt-a Parian creature, such as you may see by the dozens in Schwart

Fanny Meyrick-her generosity, her constant cheerfulness; and in somewhat headlong fashion I expressed myself: "I won'

blue feather trembled. "It is as well, as Aunt

at?" I interrupted, hoping f

back ride, and of course everything waited. Dear aunty never will begin until I come down, but sits

y that she had not invi

and," flushing slightly, "that it was a pity you

mournfully tapping the weatherbeaten stone, and forcing the downcast eyes

ittle while Bessie professed she

the W--s, do you think, Charlie? I

d that was all alive with carriages on this beautiful September morning. The W-- carriage had ha

red herself to be led through the little tangle of brier and fern, past the gray old gravestones wit

wn. The subject of our previous discussion was not resumed, nor was Fanny Meyrick men

ftened and shining in the September sun. There was ineffable peace in the faint blue sky, and, stealing up

n into the valley: "Charlie dear, let us stay here always. W

brutal bear, bringing the realities o

oxcroft, and drive over ther

, I must plod along in the ways that are made for

," said Bessi

ck in the tower above us str

l think that we've been here all the time." And Bessie plunged madly down the hill, and struck off into the side-path that

breath with the run, as we sat down to rest on the little porch of Mrs.

at, my d

lad that Fanny

Why should

u sorry

s coming through the little hall: I heard her step. Small time for explanation, no time for reproache

nch of honeysuckle, and making a loop of it to d

s nothing-feel as I feel f

, in

ry glad, that Fanny Meyrick is to sail in October.

t smiling lips: "I am glad, very glad, that Fanny Meyrick is to sa