Page:Peterson's Magazine 1855 B.pdf/15

 THE

AWKWARD

MISTAKE.

BY R. W. DEWERS.

Cora B—— was something of a flirt—there is no denying it, though I do not like to admit anything to her disadvantage, for she was a great favorite of mine.

She was a pretty, little brown thing, with cheeks that the rich blood mantled freely through, hough it came from a warm, generous heart. cherry-ripe lips, often parted to reveal two rows of pearly teeth, as the merry laughter burst lingly out—figure rather petite, but full and eful—a foot and hand of fairy-like symmetry, hair dark, and glossy as satin—such were of her outward attractions Add a pretty, coquettish manner, and a temper unspoilably I, and you will have some idea of Cora B—— Cora was only eighteen, but her lovers were Ij so numerous, that, had she cared to count of them, she must have had a notched lite Robinson Crusoe, for surely her giddy head could never have remembered them Kkoot that, or some similar aid. njtiody petted, admired and flattered her; BDike lovo to one so loveable, seemed as md natural as to inhale the fragrance of a mg the newest, and consequently the most 3 other admirers, was Horace Henderson, —, who had recently come to Springfield, native place.

iea being the novelty of the season, he decidedly clever and agreeable fellow— ne and talented ; therefore Cora, without to make a seriouB conquest, would have rtified at her lack of skill, if she had not •d in adding so distinguished an attache ain, her an effort greater than usual to do rer, and even 'when she had so far cons to find him her obedient servant to, she saw, or fancied she saw, that his a were less the result of love than and admiration. s quite content, however, and the intifeen them daily increased. Cora flirted le so much. Horace carried her boue than she did herself—she hardly ever ty one else to fan her after dancing, he asked her to ride with him, she -marts all of high favor.

A beautiful, cool, summer afternoon was se lected for the first ride; and Cora, mounted on a gentle but spirited animal, exhilirated by the exercise, and excited by the lively nonsense her companion was talking to her, had never been in better spirits, or looked more lovely. Their way led them along by the romantic banks of the Connecticut, in the direction of Ames' famous establishment—then, and I sup pose now, a favorite ride with the people of Springfield, on account of the excellence of the road, and the beauty of the scenery. The country was looking most enchantingly. The river gleamed blue and sparkling on their right, and on the left, a very full and complete orchestra of road-side choristers chanted bewitchingly behind their vernal screen Cora's heart, as well as her ears, was filled with music, and her bright cheeks glowed, and her black eyes sparkled with pleasure. The sun was still high when they turned home ward, and after a lively canter, they slackened their pace, to enjoy the quiet loveliness of nature. Coming to an alluring little side-road, which led into a wood, they were tempted by curiosity, and the earliness of the hour, to leave the main road to explore it. It was an enchanting little fairy causeway, carpeted with turf, and canopied with green; Cora was wild with delight. Horace seemed either less pleased, or more occupied with other thoughts, for he was unusually silent. Cora, observing his absent mood, laughingly inquired the reason. Horace rallied himself, and replied with gayety, a little forced, "Ah, Miss Cora, has not a man in love the sanction of Shakspeare, and all the poets, to be merry or sad—absent or whimsical, at his own capricious will? I claim immunity under the laws enacted by the poets in favor of distressed lovers—for do you know, Miss Cora, you see before you a man very much in love?" "It is coming!" said Cora to herself. "Well I'm sorry—perhaps I can laugh it off," and she answered aloud, "Indeed! let me take a good look then, for I should like to see the symptoms of a state, come to be regarded now-a-days as problematical."