CHARLOTTE MESSENGER
VOL. I. NO. 34.
TWO ENGAGEMENTS.
N ina is sitting on the fresh young
grass among the apple blossoms. Not
unlike an apple blossom herself, in her
pink and white dress of clear muslin,
is the bright girl with the flower-like
face. Nina is not a beauty by any
means; but nineteen healthful, happy
years have given her the charms and
graces of a pure, contented maiden
hood—gentle eyes, a smile like sun
shine, crowded braids of light-brown
hair, and a strong, quiet heart.
She has also pretty, dimpled hands,
which are at present making fine tat
ting and weaving, all unconsciously, a
web of quite another sort.
The young man whose length of sup
ple limb lies stretched beside her,
among the devastating clovers, is de
cidedly handsome. He has light curl
ing hair, almost golden in its bright
ness, and dark eyebrows, arching over
lovely, melancholy dark eyes.
There has been quite a long silence
between these two, who are here alone
in this blossoming orchard with the
•soft, fragrant petals showering down
around them, and no other company
but vagrant butterflies and hard
working bees to share their solitude.
When the young man speaks at
last, it is in a very discontented voice.
“ You know very well 1 want to
speak to you, Nina. You know I sent
the children away for no other pur
pose; I must speak to you. But you
sit there counting your stitches and
looking so cool—”
“ 1 don’t count them,” she an
swered, good-humoredly, and letting
her eyes rest on his an instant. “ Dear
me! what a frowning forehead !
Well, then', why don’t you speak? I
shall be delighted to hear anything
you may have—”
“ I don’t want you to be delighted,”
lie interrupts her, shortly. “ And do.
for mercy sake, put that eternal work
away! I would like yoor undivided
attention for once.”
The tatting is instantly disposed of
in a convenient apron-pocket, and the
nimble white hands clasp each other,
at rest.
“Say am I not good and obedient?
Now for the wonderful story. If you
really are coming to confession. Star,
why, that is just splendid !”
“ For the listener? See here, Nina,
you liave heard me speak of—of Laura
Dalton, haven’t you ?”
“ Never. You have never men
tioned her name until this moment,
Star, and you know it!”
“Os course I know it. Who said I
didn’t? Well, I’m going to mention
her now. I met her at my aunt's when
they lived in Washington three win
ters ago. She is an orphan—a sort of
ward of Aunt Maggie’s—and when I
had known her two months we were
engaged.”
“ Very rational on both sides. You
were then nineteen. At what period
of her infancy was Miss Dalton ?"
“ Well, sixteen, perhaps. She has
been at school in Germany ever since,
until a month ago. But the worst of
it is, Nina”—stretching out his hand
and laying it on hers—“ we are en
gaged at this present moment.”
If he had expected to meet any
stormy demonstration of surprise, or
grief, or anger, he finds himself won
derfully mistaken. The tranquil blue
eyes widen a little, and the color
deepens slightly in the rounded
cheeks, but the sweet voice replies, in
its usual clear tone:
“How strange of you, Star, not to
speak of this before ? And why should
it be ‘the worst of it’ that you are
stiil engaged?”
“Because I am very unhappy, and
because 1 do not love poor Laura. She
is such a foolish, frivolous creature—
just a big, warm-hearted child, that is
all. Tell me Nina,dearest," strength
ening his pressure on the passive fin
gers, “haven’t you known all along—
ever since that first night when we
walked home through the beech wood*
from Aunt Maggie’s—haven’t you
known that I loved you?”
“Yes,” she says, in almost a whisper,
“I have known it, Starwood.”
“And you wondered that I could
keep silence?"
“ Yes,” she says again, very softly.
“ But then you knew of my engage
ment.”
“ Your engagement? Nina, please
don’t begin about that. A wretched
arrangement between fathers and
mothers. I’ve no patience to speak of
it. You know very well you will never
marry Doctor Leslie.”
“ Os course 1 will marry him,” open
ing still wider the soft blue eyes. “ I
wonder at you. Star.”
“ You won’t inarry Doctor Leslie,
and for a veiy good reason. Nina; you
w'll marry ms.”
CHARLOTTE, MECKLENBURG CO., N. C., FEBRUARY 24, 1883.
“ Starwood!"
“ For heaven’s sake, don’t look at me
like that; I have not proposed to kill
anybody. It is only this, dearest; I
cannot marry Laura Dalton when my
whole heart belongs to you, and I
know, too, that you care for me dearly
—dearly.”
“ I care for you too much to let you
act dishonorably,” she answers, stead
ily; but there are tears in her drooped
eyes, and she unclasps her hands to
take his own into their gentle embrace.
“ You should have spoken before. It
is all so strange to me. And the girl—
Starwood. Does she love you ?”
“That’s the trouble. She loves me
to distraction. Her little letters break
my heart. She is so happy in the
thought of our marriage. It was ar
ranged to take place next monrh”—
disconsolately —“and she’s coming to
Aunt Maggie’s the day after to-mor
row. Nina, I think I will run away.’
“You could not be a coward. Star.”
“Come with me, Nina,” a world of
entreaty in his tone. “No, but I am
in earnest. Why should we sacrifice
ourselves to lives of misery. Dr.
Leslie cannot feel for you as I do. It
is almost a year since he has seen you
even.”
“He does love me. Oh, Star, if you
knew. lam all the world to him, and
he has waited and worked. I oould
not be so wicked. He is coming
back soon. He has fhiished his course
in Paris, and—do you think we two
could ever be happy together if we
had male others Wretched.”
“But you love me, Nina? Tell me
truth, dearest; nothing will seem so
hard to bear after that. Only say it.”
He has drawn so near that his cheek
rests against her slender shoulder.
Shy Nina does not answer, but her
arm slips timidly round his neck, and
she rests her cheek against his curling
golden hair. After the fashion of
maidens, she has answered her love in
silence.
This exquisite moment is suddenly
broken in upon by the sound of scam
pering feet and ringing voices, and the ■
children come rushing pell-mell
through the orchard gate.
But. after all, they are Nina’s
brothers, and tliat thought reconciles
him to bear for a whle the noisy In
fliction of their company.
* * * * *
A shadow darkens the morning sun
shine. Nina looks up from adding the
weekly household accounts, and sees in
the long, open window the loveliest
young woman she has ever beheld.
“Miss Marble, Nina.”
Nina’s heart quakes, but she goes
forward with a welcoming smile.
“I am Laura—l.aura Dalton. You
have heard of me?” offering both
hands with impulsive grace.
“Oh, yes, yes !” says Nina, blushing
slightly, but looking bravely into bril-1
liant hazel eyes—lovely, wonderful i
eyes, so thickly fringed with line black
lashes. “lam so glad to see you! It
is so kind of you to come f
“ Star promised to bring me, but I ]
would not wait. You will think it ,
dreadful of me to rush in without;
ringing the door-bell; but I saw you
from the garden, and I knew you were I
Nina. Star has written me so much j
about you! I ought to be jealous, but
I won’t be. You’re t*» sweet. Aunt
Maggie has told me lots about you. It
is so nice for her to have such plea-ant
neighbors. What a lovely place they j
have! You know they lived ill Wash- ’
ington when I went away, and the |
idea of coming to New Jersey! I
have heen abroad three years.”
“ Mr. Burley told me,” says Nina,
helping to divest her visitor of a co
quettish hat and feather, and laying
hare her magnificent coils of shining
black hair.
“He lias told you everything, I sup
pose? Dear fellow! I find him
changed—so dull and spiritless.”
“ He was not very well,” Nina has
tens to say, wii h a tell-tale flush on her
face. “At least, when he first came to
Mrs. Creigh’s, he was recovering from
typhoid fever, and he—l suppose—”
“That was nine months ago," is the
prompt rejoinder. “He wriAe me all
about the typhoid fever, and that he
iiad entirely recovered. But he seems
strangely altered. 1 think it is good
for a man to have enough money to
Uve on without work. You have seen
a good deal of Star, I suppose, since
you’ve been acquainted?”
“ Oh, yes! My brother Clarence and
he are quite intimate.”
“ He did not fell me about Clarence,
lie told me about you,” saystheyoung
lady. “ I was anxious to see youl Os
course, you know tliat he—that I
You do know, Nina, don’t you?”
“About your engagementF* asks
Nina, smiling gravely. “Star will
have a beautiful wife.”
“I hope he may have a happy one”—
with a little sigh. “He is such a lovely
fellow. But, somehow, I don’t think it
is nice to be married so very soon- The
second of next month—only thing!—
and I am just nineteen! No one
knew of our engagement except Aunt
Maggie, and now she is so anxious to
have everyone know, and to have us
sottled; and I like to be single, don’t
you ? It seems dreadful just to leave
school and then be married. I haven’t
had any good time.”
“Why not postpone your wedding
fora while?" asks Nina, smiling at the
frankness of her beautiful visitor.
“ You are both so young!"
“Ah, but poor Star would object!
He would be so terribly disappointed,
you know. He has been looking for
ward to our marriage. But I was
tHnmng, Nina perhaps you could
talk to him. He has such consdence
in your judgment. You mignt tell
him that you think I am too young.
You understand him so well. Y’ou
would just know what to say. You will
think I am tlie strangest girl I
in the world to come here
and talk like this; but, don’t you
see, I can’t speak to Aunt Maggie, and
I dare not to poor Star, and there is no
one else. I will lie married before I
know it, Nina if I don’t make some
effort.”
There are tears dimming the lus
trous dark eyes.
Nina touched and astonished, draws
a little chair close to her new friend’s
side, and takes her hand in a kind
clasp. At this Laura's tears brim
over.
“You will think I am a fool,” she
says, presently, with a little sob now
and then between her words, “but
your lovely, sweet face won me in a
minute. I don't mean that you are
handsome, but you are so lovely ! And
that dear little calico apron ! I couldn’t
be afraid of you, Nina. Os course, I
didn’t mean to be so frank with you
all at once; hut I sould never like you
any better than Ido now, and I can’t
help speaWng my heart right out. I
want you to reason with Star—not
reason, ecactly—but show him—make
him understand—well, tell him some
thing—■”
“All.but you must tell me some
thing first, Laura. Isn't there some
one else—some one who lias taken
•Star’s place in your heart ? Is not that
the trouble,dear?"
“Oh, Nina, Nina!”
“I thought so. Tell me, Laura,
how it happened. Tell me all about
it. Then we can consult.”
“Y'ou little darling! I have felt
like a criminal; but if you could only
see him. Nina! I met him in Paris
when I was spending the holidays with
a schoolmate. He was studying witli
her father. Professor Vieux. There
were lots of students, but this one is a
young American —so talented and so
handsome—and we fell in love with
each other at first sight. It was ter
rible, Nina—so awfully sudden and
unexpected; but, don’t you know, lie
was quite wild about me, and I was
just as bail about him. And lie is en
gaged to a girl out here—he would not
tell me her name; but he does not love
her at all—at least, since he’s known
me lie doesn’t. But then, you see, his
word binds him, and lie is so honor
able! He is coming over in a few
weeks, and 1 thought, if I need not be
married so soon—don’t you see?—that, |
possibly, something might happen.”
“ What is your lover’s name. Laura,
if it be a fair question ?”
“His name? Do you think I ought
to tell liis name? I will tell you. His
name is Doctor Leslie.”
“Ah r
It is a little cry, a gasp, that escapes
Nina's lips, but is checked back in
stantly.
“Do you know?” Laura asks, with
a wondering air.
“ I know the girl he has promised to
marry, and I have seen the letter? be
has written her, so full of tenderness.
She never dreamed his love could
waver. Laura, this is terrible!—the
surprise!"
“ I know it, dear,” says Laura, pen
itently; “but what can we do? I’m
sure we don’t compel ourselves to love.
Love compels us. How strange you
should be acquainted with Doctor Les
lie’s affianted ! It seems just like a
story. Is she nice? He would never
say anything about her except ‘ poor
child! ’ ”
“ Poor child!" echoes Nina, with a
smile. “ She would only be poor child
if she should m.irry.him. I could tell
you about her, too, Laura, how she has
struggled to keep faith with her faith
less lover, while her heart had given
itself to some one else. She has suf
fered. but at least she has been strong.
Ah, Laura, what must we think of
men?”
“ What must we think of women ?”
says Laura, simply. “I am sure lam
ashamed of myself! .If Star could
know— Nina, oh, Nina, there he is!’
—rushing suddenly to the long open
window—“but I tell you it is he! They
must have told him I was here, and lie
is coming. Oh, oh, oh! what shall 1
do? Oh, Nina, lam so glad!”
Nina, following her impetuous friend,
sees, not Starwood Burley, but Doctoi
Leslie advancing up the graveled path
in traveling coat and with a small va
lise in his hand.
As lie reaches the veranda, which is
liberally vine-eovered, Miss Dalton
springs through the window and rushes
to him with outspread arms. At sight
of this beautiful apparition an unmis
takable delight flashes over his fi*ie,
dark face.
“ Laura!” he exclaims, and drops
his baggage to fold her promptly to his
bosom; theh he hastily releases her,
and his joy gives place to consterna
tion.
Ho actually staggers back as his be
trothed advances, with her hand held
out in greeting.
“Nina!”—he says no other word as
she lifts her little quiet face to kiss
him in friendly fashion.
Miss DiU'.un stands amazed.
“You a:iuw Nina,too? I thought
Mrs. Creign hail sent you here? I
thought you were coming to find mo,”
she falters. “ Oh, Gilbert!—oh, Nina!
Oh, Nina, are you the girl?”
Miss Dalton is deadly pale, and Doc
tor Leslie groans and hides his white
face in his hands.
Nina is trembling a little, and tears
are on her lashes ; but she smiles up
at them both.
“ I am the girl—the fiappy girl, dear
Laura. How strange that you should
come at this very moment, Gilbert! I
did not expect you until the twentieth.
Laura had just been telling me she
met you abroad, and all the little ro
mance. But come in. We mast sit
down and talk together.”
* * * * *
“ Robbie—Robbie, will you run up
to the house, like a good feliow, and
tell Nina I want to speak to her. I’m
going to bring you that new fishing
rod to-morrow—honor bright. Tell
her I am waiting here at the gate; and
don’t let all the world hear you, that’s
a little man!”
Down through the twilight comes
Nina, a minute later, in her gleaming
white dress, with a white lace shawl
around her head, to find Starwood
Burley lurking in the maple’3 shadow
at the gate.
“*Will you walk along the road a lit
tle way ?” he asks, abruptly, without
greeting of any kind.”
She steps down beside him, and they
walk away slowly under ttie great
branches of the elms and chestnuts,
along the quiet country road.
“ I suppose 1 must congratulate you
on the arrival of your—of Dr. Leslie.
Laura informed me that he had arrived
this morning, while she was with you.”
“Thanks, yes. He came quite unex
pectedly. He wanted to give me a sur
prise. and it was a surprise.”
“ You are delighted, of course.”
“I am very, very happy,” sho an
swers, gently; “ I never thought to bo
so happy.”
And of her own free will she lays her
hand within his arm, and leans con
fidingly on its support.
* “Oil, don’t Nina ! don’t talk about
it!" looking down longingly at the
little clinging band on bis coat-sleeve.
“Y’ou make a coward of me. In all
honor, I have no right to be here with
you now; but Laura intimated tliat
you wished to see me, and 1 came,
Nina, but only to say good-bye. I can’t
bear this sort of thing. We must not
meet any more. By-and-bye, per
haps—”
“Star,” says Nina, standing still be
fore him, suddenly, in the darkened
road, lonely now as a forest path. “I
am the happiest woman in the world
to-night. Do you know why? Be
eause yon love me. Something so
strange has happened.” And then sho
pours forth a story that Starwood can
scarcely credit, in his amazement aud
delight.
“ It is like a dream,” he stammers.
“ Theothertwo will be happy together,
and I can have youl Am I really
awake? Doctor Leslie is willing and
it is all arranged?"
“ Doctor Leslie has gone over to see
Laura, and talk with Mrs. Creigh—l
sent him off across fields as soon as
Robbie told me you had come. And
Laura thinks it would be nice.to have
the two marriages at onoe. What do
you think. Star?”
Mr. Burley’s answer, though silent,
is decidedly in tbs sill rotative.
W. C. SMITH. PnHlislier.
FACTS FOR THE CURIOUS.
The microscope shows the hair to be
like a coarse, round rasjv but with the
teeth extremely irregular and ragged
The monas crepuzculis, ofle of the
animalcules, is only a twenty-four
thousandth part of an inch in diam
: eter.
The African negro is remarkable
, for his length of arm and leg; the
: Aymara Indian of Peru for his short
i ness
A sweet potato four feet long and
an average circumference of seven and
a half inehes has been raised in Marion
county, Ky.
| The Burtnans assert that before the
advent of Buddha they had 334,569
kings. They say also tliat nearly
every one of these monarchs was a
parricide.
! There were four races in Italy in
early times; the I’elasgians, the Ital
ians, the Etruscans and the Greeks,
j The first came from the west, the sec
j ond and third from the north.
! A carpet in the palace at Versailles,
: France, was sixty-two years in manu
facture at the Gobelins, the whole bor
der wrought with rich garlands of
fiowers, embracing all the roses known
| in France.
i Mormonism started near Troy, N.
Y., in 1829, under the leadership of
Eleazer Miller. Miller and others
went to Victor, N. Y'„ and preached
the doctrine, anil then Brigham Young
: was converted to the faith. lie was
baptized by Miller in 1832.
In 1691 a barrel was made at Sleid
| elburg, in Germany, which is com
-1 posed of 112 solid beams, twenty-seven
i feet in length, is sixteen feet across the
ends and eighteen feet through the
> center, and contains 800 hogsheads;
yet it was once drank out in eight
i days.
The proverb about people living in
glass houses will suon lose its meta
phorical significance. One of the most
I prominent glass manufacturers of
! Pittsburg announces his intention of
furnishing the public with glasshouses
jat an approximately early period. \s
; soon as a suitable annealing process is
discovered and a factory and ovens arc
built for the special purpose, glass
! blocks will become a reasonable and
i suitable building material.
The Roma;, people onoe gave a pub
i lie pet a public funeral. 'The dis
! tinguished animal was n raven, which
i flow every day igto the Forum, perched
! on the rostra, and saluted Tiberius,
Geruiauieus and Drflsus by their
names. This he did foi years, till a
shoemaker by accident killed the bird,
the people killed the cobbler, and the
corpse of this bird was placed on a
bier, richly dight, and carried in the
shoulders of two Moor:-, with music
playing before them, to a field called
Ridiculous, on the Yppinn Way. There
was that bird solemnly burned, and
his ashes covered with garlands of
flowers.
flood in Paper-Making.
A recent estimate was published,
which set down the paper mills of the
world at 4,000, producing 1.000.0(H)
tons of paper, of which the half was
used for printing. It is now evident
that the future o f the paper industry
will, iu aiargo degree, depend upon the
use of wood, which is alrialy so ex
tensively employed. For the ordinary
varieties o pa. er, ground wood is
used; but for the finer sorts,chemically
prepared w > d-l.oer or cellulose, is em
ployed. The practical process for the
preparation of cellulose was li3Covered
in 1852. and numerous other processes
or improvements liave since been in
vonted. It comes into commer’e in
two forms - wood pulp in sheet or
blocks and ligneou ruai or wood flour.
In Central Russia, lispen wood is must
extensively employin'; in Sweden and
Finland, spruce and lir, which afford
the longest fibers; in Germany, France
and Belgium, mixed woods. Aliout
twonty years ago some of the, Ameri
can papers used the bamboo largely for
making paper. The fibrous stem and
leaves of the plaintain. which is so
plentiful in most tropical regions, have
not yet been practically utilized, al
though efforts were made some years
ago in British Guiana by a company.
Dr. King, tho colonial botanist at Cal
cutta, recently reported : “ U has been
found that, during the dry months,
simple exposure of tin sliced stems to
the sun is sufficient to prepare the fiber
for paper-making, provided the paper
mill be on the spot. What is still
wanted is some cheap mode of remov
ing the cellular tissue, so that the fiber
may be shipped abroad without far*
mentation.”