Page:New Peterson magazine 1859 Vol. XXXV.pdf/206

 AGNES,

193

she shall have Arthur Reynolds’ escort, and I must show due regard to my sister and friend. But never mind! be as devoted to me as you please—I am glad you are becoming steady- minded.” ‘I shall revenge myself upon you,” retorted she, ‘‘by fascinating the stranger as completely as possible.”

The next day was the Sabbath, and as the arrival of a new-comer was gomething of an event in the quiet town, not a few eyes in the church were turned upon him at his entrance. Behind Dr. Henry, with his stalwart form, his head covered with iron-grey locks and a slightly tottering step, followed his nephew, quite uncon- scious of the observation directed to himeelf. Agnes saw bim too from the gallery where she sat among the singers. He was tall and slender, and his step was slow and deliberate. She saw his face at last, when he turned toward the gal: lery during the singing, as was the wont in the congrecation. It was a calm, grave face, tc which large, dark eyes lent a softness and sweet- ness, when she had seen him oftener. But now these were cast downward, and the expressior was almost one of sternness, so that Agnes laughed ao little to herself, with a mingled sense of relief and disappointment, and said, ‘*So my} hero has not arrived yet.”

They met frequently while Frank Haven re. mained in Winfield. Agnes, at first repelled by a gravity of speech and demeanor quite unlike her own, found this repulsion slowly passin away as she saw the kind and genial feelings the strong, good sense, and the fresh, earnes pature, undisguised by outward show or vanity She liked to listen to his clear, ringing tones, a: he told of distant lands through which he hac been a traveler, and when, as now and the bappened, he became aroused almost to enthu siasm, in speaking of some great question 0! right and wrong, her cheek would grow warm acd her heart beat high in sympathy. He glowing face, thus lit up with animation, be came positively beautiful, and began to interes Arthur Reynolds. It was pleasant to watch it changes, and to listen to the words full of originality and spirit which fell from her lips. Ye it was vexatious to see her, just after she ha seemed almort inspired with noble enthusiasm engiged in replying gayly to the wild gnllies o Frank Haven, or vicing with the gayest in son, and dance. So grave Dr. Reynolds, who doubt less thought more of the outward appearance than was wise, took refuge in the gentle society of Martha Haven, whose placid quietness wa bever so common-place as to be wearisome. Ye his eyes followed the graceful motions of Agnes and his ear caught with an eagerness that almost surprised himself the merry sounds of her voice.

One evening, as a little party had been out for a stroll upon one of the hills that shut in the village, and were on their homeward way, Martha and Agnes took a pleasant shaded path along the bank of a stream that had hollowed for itself a deep bed and ran foaming along its stony way, making music beneath the trees that struck their long roots into the soil above, and bent over their branches till they almost touched the water. The cousins had separated themselves from the rest of the company, and strolled quietly along, talking of little housebold matters, of old scenes and absent friends. As the shadows of the trees grew longer and longer in the declining sunlight, they fell into a dreamy silence. Suddenly Agnes paused, while Martha walked slowly on. She had descried a branch glowing like fire with scarlet leaves, and bending over till it seemed within herreach. She was at once full of eager- ness to obtain the brilliant prize, which drooped just over the edge of the bank. So she stepped to the brink, and, standing on tiptoe, had just touched the branch when she felt the soil giving way under her feet, and heard the branch by which she held cracking above her. Yet she had scarcely time to comprehend her danger, or even to utter a cry of fear, ere a strong arm had grasped her tightly and drew her to firm ground. She looked around, laughing at the awk wardness of her situation, and beheld Arthur Reynolds, who had strayed thither by a shorter path, and was unconscious of the proximity of any one, till he suddenly came upon Agnes. ‘Don't laugh,” said he, more sobor than ever, ‘‘the danger was not trifling. Look,” and he led her nearer to the brink again, still retaining his firm hold upon her. Agnes looked and shuddered. The bank, for a short space only sloping, became then steep, and beneath, the stream which had deepened and widened, formed a basin of water, whirling and tossing over huge rocks. ‘I should have fallen in an instant,” said she, drawing back, ‘shad it not been for you, and had I fallen there, no human power could have saved me. How can I thank you?” ‘You owe no thanks to me, but to the kind power that led my steps hither at the dangerous moment. And now,” continued he, less gravely, ‘lest you get into mischief again, I shall assume the guardianship of you for the rest of the way home!” How plensant was that sunset walk down the hillside, remembered by Agnes many and many a time in after ‘life. At that hour, the hero of her dreams first became reality. With almost a pang, she suddenly awoke to the consciousness that a deeper