The Last of the Foresters: Or, Humors on the Border; A story of the Old Virginia Frontier — John Shaqi
The Last of the Foresters: Or, Humors on the Border; A story of the Old Virginia FrontierCooke, John Esten
General
The Last of the Foresters: Or, Humors on the Border; A story of the Old Virginia Frontier
Cooke, John Esten
Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Virginia -- Fiction
We must, however, speak of another influence which made Redbud so
cool;--and this will, very probably, have occurred to our lady
readers, if we have any, as the better explanation. Separation! Yes,
the separation which stimulates affection, and bathes the eyes in the
languid dews of memory. Strephon is never so devoted as when Chloe has
been removed from him--when his glances seek for her in vain on the
well-remembered lawn. And Chloe, too, is disconsolate, when she no
longer sees the crook of her shepherd, or hears the madrigals he
sings. Absence smoothes all rough places; and the friend from whom we
are separated, takes the dearest place in the heart of hearts.
Redbud did not discover how much she loved Verty, until she was gone
from him, and the fresh music of his laughter was no longer in her
ears. Then she found that he held a very different place in her heart
from what she had supposed;--or rather, to speak more accurately, she
did not reflect in the least upon the matter, but only felt that he
was not there near her, and that she was not happy.
This will explain the prim little ladylike air of bashfulness and
constraint which Redbud exhibited, when her eyes fell on Verty, and
the coolness with which she gave him her hand. The old things had
passed away--Verty could be the boy-playmate no more, however much it
grieved her. Thus reflected Miss Redbud; and in accordance with this
train of reasoning, did she conduct herself upon the occasion of which
we speak.
So, to Strephon's request to be informed why she came thither, without
telling him, Chloe replied with a blush:
"Oh, I came to school--sir," she was about to add, but did not.
"To school? Is this a school for young ladies?"
Redbud, with a delicate little inclination of the head, said yes.
"Well," Verty went on, "I am glad I found you; for, Redbud, you can't
tell how I've been feeling, ever since you went away. It seemed to me
that there was a big weight resting on my breast."
Redbud colored, and laughed.
"Sometimes," said Verty, smiling, "I would try and get it away by
drawing in my breath, and ever so long; but I could'nt," he added,
shaking his head; "I don't know what it means."
Mr. Jinks, who was dusting his rosetted shoes with a white pocket
handkerchief, grimaced at this.
"Well, well," Verty went on, "I begin to feel better now, since I've
seen you; and, I think, I'll do better in my office work."
"Office work?" asked Redbud, beginning to grow more like her former
self.
"Oh, yes!" Verty replied; "I'm in Mr. Rushton's office now, and I'm a
lawyer's clerk;--that's what they call it, I believe."
Redbud returned his bright smile. Her eye wandered toward Cloud, who
stood perfectly still--the turkey, which had not been removed, yet
dangling at his saddle-bow.
Verty followed the young girl's glance, and smiled.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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