Page:The Granite Monthly Volume 1.djvu/241

 WON AT LAST.

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��few maples which in summer form the only beauty the village;boasts. A dreary, desolate picture, perhaps, but neverthe- less one which is often seen. Directly opposite the church, and near the centre of the village, stands a small red cottage, enclosed by an unpainted picket fence. Beside the walk leading from the gate- way lay the dead and dying flowers, which have evidently been tended by some careful hand, but which have been rudely touched by the early frost. Let us enter the house.

The sitting-room is a small, square room, the floor covered with a home- made carpet, the furniture consisting of a few straight-backed chairs and a large, old-fashioned rocker, a small looking- glass between the two windows, which are shaded with white curtains, and un- derneath it a small work-table covered with needle-work. In one corner a small table stands, whereon lies a large Bible. A fire burns in afsmall stove, and near by, upon a stool, is seated a young girl, her elbows resting upon her lap, her face resting upon her hands. Her hair is dusky brown, with a tinge of gold, and hangs in wavy, luxuriant masses over her shoulders. Her dress is composed of a dark-brown fabric, made very plain- ly, but fitting her slender figure perfect- ly. Upon the forefinger of her right hand gleams a plain gold ring. At length she raises her head, revealing a lovely face, dark-brown eyes with a " far away " look in their depths, rosebud lips, and cheeks red as roses. Fannie Gordon is the only child of Deacon Jonas Gordon and wife, and the light of the Deacon's home, as well as

" The pride of all the village, And the fairest in the dell."

Fun-loving and full of gentle impulses, a thoroughly " good girl," it was no won- der she was beloved by all who knew her. Indeed, it seemed almost like a flower springing up amid weeds and thistles, so different seemed her sweet face from those surrounding her.

On the day in question, however, the usually bright face is somewhat clouded, and there is a subdued look in the brown eyes, showing at once that some weighty matter ig being revolved in her mind.

��Bising at length, she approaches the window and looks out upon the cheerless street, and its cheerlessness seems to strike her more forcibly than ever before. With a sigh she turns aside and takes up her work, her fingers plying her needle rapidly, her thoughts very busy, if one can judge by the sigh which ever and anon escapes her lips. Soon the door opens and her father enters the room. A tall, spare man, with iron-gray hair and beard, and a rather stern and forbidding look about the closely compressed lips, is Deacon Gordon. Bigid in his views, stern and unyielding, yet a thoroughly good man and one who filled his office in church as he did his place in the home circle, with credit to himself and satis- faction to those surrounding him. Per- haps the pretty Fannie would hardly have coincided with the latter remark, however, just at present, as the sequel will show.

"A cold, rough day for the season, Fannie," said her father, as he replen- ished the fire and seated himself in the rocking-chair, newspaper in hand.

" Yes, sir," replied Fannie, without looking up. Something in the tone of her voice caused her father to readjust his spectacles and give her a scrutinizing look, while a decided frown became visi- ble upon his face. He said nothing, how- ever, but instead of opening his paper, as had been his intention, he fixed his gaze upon the church spire opposite and seemed lost in thought. That his thoughts were disagreeable ones his stern face plainly showed. At length the sound of carriage wheels coming down the street arrested his attention, and soon the carriage appeared in sight, its occupant, a dark, handsome young man, looking eagerly towards the house. As his eyes caught sight of Fannie he bowed politely and smilingly as he touched his horse with his whip and hur- ried on his way. Over the sweet face of the girl there came a flush, while the dusky brown eyes danced and sparkled a joy that she vainly endeavored to con- ceal as she bent more closely over her task.

" Fannie ! " Deacon Gordon's voice was very stern as he pronounced his

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