The Old Stone House and Other Stories | Page 4

a nest in my old apple-tree. When she saw me come up the
walk, her cheeks turned pink, but I do not know if it was from pleasure
or annoyance, for she gave nothing but vexing replies to every
compliment I paid her. But then Lemuel Phillips fared no better; and
she was so bitter-sweet to Orrin Day that he left in a huff and vowed he
would never step across her threshold again. I thought she was a trifle
more serious after he had gone, but when a woman's eyes are as bright
as hers, and the frowns and smiles with which she disports herself
chase each other so rapidly over a face both mischievous and charming,
a man's judgment goes astray, and he scarcely knows reality from
seeming. But true or false, she is pretty as a harebell and bright as
glinting sunshine; and I mean to marry her, if only Colonel Schuyler
will hold himself aloof.
Colonel Schuyler may hold himself aloof, but he is a man like the rest
of us for all that. Yesterday as I was sauntering in the churchyard
waiting for the appearance of a certain white-robed figure crowned by
the demurest of little hats, I caught a glimpse of his face as he leaned
on one of the tombstones near Patience Goodyear's grave, and I saw
that he was waiting also for the same white figure and the same demure
hat. This gave me a shock; for though I had never really dared to hope
he would remain unmoved by a loveliness so rare in our village, and
indeed, as I take it, in any village, I did not think he would show so
much impatience, or await her appearance with such burning and
uncontrollable ardor.
Indeed I was so affected by his look that I forgot to watch any longer
for her coming, but kept my gaze fixed on his countenance, till I saw by

the change which rapidly took place in it that she had stepped out of the
great church door and was now standing before us, making the
sunshine more brilliant by her smiles, and the spring the sweeter for her
presence.
Then I came to myself and rushed forward with the rest of the lads. Did
he follow behind us? I do not think so, for the rosy lips which had
smiled upon us with so airy a welcome soon showed a discontented
curve not to be belied by the merry words that issued from them, and
when we would have escorted her across the fields to her father's house,
she made a mocking curtsy, and wandered away with the ugliest old
crone who mouths and mumbles in the meeting-house. Did she do this
to mock us or him? If to mock him he had best take care, for beauty
scorned is apt to grow dangerous. But perhaps it was to mock us? Well,
well, there would be nothing new in that; she is ever mocking us.
* * * * *
They say the Colonel passes her gate a dozen times a day, but never
goes in and never looks up. Is he indifferent then? I cannot think so.
Perhaps he fears her caprices and disapproves of her coquetry. If that is
so, she shall be my wife before he wakens to the knowledge that her
coquetry hides a passionate and loving heart.
Colonel Schuyler is a dark man. He has eyes which pierce you, and a
smile which, if it could be understood, might perhaps be less
fascinating than it is. If she has noticed his watching her, the little heart
that flutters in her breast must have beaten faster by many a throb. For
he is the one great man within twenty miles, and so handsome and
above us all that I do not know of a woman but Juliet whose voice does
not sink a tone lower whenever she speaks of him. But he is a proud
man, and seems to take no notice of any one. Indeed he scarcely
appears to live in our world. Will he come down from his high estate at
the beck of this village beauty? Many say not, but I say yes; with those
eyes of his he cannot help it.
* * * * *

Juliet is more capricious than ever. Lemuel Phillips for one is tired of it,
and imitating Orrin Day, bade her a good-even to-night which I am sure
he does not intend to follow with a blithe good-morrow.
I might do the same if her pleading eyes would let me. But she seems to
cling to me even when she is most provokingly saucy; and though I
cannot see any love in her manner, there is something in it very
different from hate; and