Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 December 1892 — NAN’S CHRISTMAS GUEST. [ARTICLE]

NAN’S CHRISTMAS GUEST.

A great event occurred in the Curtis household when Nan took summer board•rs. When she first announced this intention the amazement of the assembled family was too great for words. The two smaller children gazed at her in widesyed wonder, and her father, whJI he at length found voice, remarked contemptuously : “tVho’ll come up here in the back woods, I’d like to know?” But Nan was not to be discouraged. ’‘There is the mountain,” she said, stoutly, “and the fine air, and the pine woods; why wouldn't someone like just such a wild, lonely place—someone from the ;ity?”

A newspaper had drifted to the Curtis farm the day before, and Nan, devouring it eagerly, chanced upon the advertisementa for summer boarders set forth in its columns. She noticed that the chief iniucements held out had been invariably the aforesaid pine woods and mountain icenery. These she had to perfection, for the little gray farmhouse clung to the mountain side like the moss to the rifted rock, and the grand panorama of sunrise tnd sunset, of silvery mists rising from the valley, and of purple clouds gathering at evening about the lofty peak, could oe had for the mere exertion of looking nut of the window. She loved these things herself, why should not someone else? She had been a little appalled at her own audacity at first, but now she was resolved to make the attempt at least, being mistress of the house. "I shall write out the advertisement, and yoil shall take it down to the post office when you go to town to morrow,” »he said decidedly and with a businesslike manner that duly impressed the family; and the indulgent father, accustomed to obey this dusky-eyed daughter, whose learning and shrewdness were a source of unbounded awe and admiruction to him, finally acquiesced to the new and startling scheme. He did not, in his own mind, sec why any one should wish to come to their farm in the wilderness, although he admitted that the view was fine, and the little turbulent stream that tumbled over the rocks, clear as crystal. The thought of the stream inspired him with a brilliant idea. “You had better put something in about the fishing,” he said, as he went out, feeling that he too, was something of a business man after all. And Nan, who was diligently copying the model in

the paper, added this last clause with a triumphant flourish. The sun was just going down behind the mountain as Mr. John Raymond, seated in Farmer Curtis’ jolting farm wagon, rode slowly up the narrow road towards the Curtis farm. The great peak stood out in distinct and sombre outline against the crimson sky. The evening breeze, coming from the cool heights, was full of a pinv odor, strangely invigorating, and although he could not see it, the music of swiftly running water told him that a mountain stream was not far away, and made him think involuntarily of the fishing rods in the back of the wagon. Save this and the melancholy note of a whippoorwill, all was perfectly still. The young man, fresh from the city haunts, appreciated the unusual beauty of the scene, and was just congratulating himself that his host had at last relapsed into silence that he might give himself up to the spell which the lonely place was somehow easting upon him, when suddenly in a clump of bushes by the roadside, which they were approaching, becapght a glimpse of a face peering out at them. He was half startled for a moment, but it was only a moment, for upon a second look, he discovered that it was a young girl’s laughing gypsy face, with great dark eyes and a mass of jet black Hair, which evident contact with the bushes had set falling about in a most becoming confusion. The bright lips ha d parted as the wagon approached, and the girl was evidently about to accost the occupants, when meeting the stranger’s eyes bent upon her, surprised, intent and admiring, she looked shyly at him for a moment, and then in confusion turned and disappeared in the wood. John Raymond turned quickly to his companion, an eager question upon his lips, but seeing that the farmer had been utterly oblivious to the little by-play, he changed his mind and remained silent. “ I shall certainly see her again,” he said to himself, “especially if she is in the habit of haunting these woods.” Presently a sharp turn in the road brought them in sight of the low farmhouse, surrounded by sloping, well-tilled fields; and from the increased animation of both horse and driver, the visitor guessed this to be their destination. “Have yon other boarders?”he asked carelessly; it was the first time the question had occurred ta him. “ Yes/’ answered the farmer briskly, “ one more, a young lady up here for her health,—ilM ß *-he mountain air.*’ As they drew near, Raymond sec that there were two young Women upon the brood porch. One, fair-haired and nearing a white dress, was idly

seated in a low chair; the other who, just then, had her head turned away, was standing upon the step, and at her feet was a basket of berries evidently just picked. Hoth were laughing gayly, and as the •wagon drew near and stopped, the girl upon the step, with a" sudden rush of color to her brown cheek, turned slowly towanTthe two men. It was the girl who looked at Raymond from the wood. He could not help betraying his surprise and satisfaction, which increased tenfold as Farmer Curtis. noting his evident admiration, took the young girl by the hand, and with no little pride in his voice, presented, “ray daughter.”

The summer days passed very happily to the little family in the lonely farmhouse. It was certainly a very strange coincidence that Mr. Raymond should discover in Alice Niles, Nan’s other boarder, a familiar city friend. Yes, very strange, too strange indeed to be believed, and Nan for one did not believe it. No, she was quite sure that the one object which this artful young man had in view, when he sought tbe Curtis homestead, was the hope of meeting this interesting invalid. Nan being of an imaginative turn of mind, bad built, up a fine romance about these two, and laughed to herself as she thought how easily she had divined their little intrigue. Thpy were certainly the best of friends, and the gentleman ever attentive to his delicate companion; but then he was almost equally as kind to his little boarding mistress, and Nan recalled with a secret blush his many courtesies. She liked these two, they were a revelation to her, and she delighted to build lovely castles for them to inhabit. They were all very j?ay together, and Nan could not help seeing that they admired her, and pitied her for being condemned to a mountain fastness..

The bracing air was having a wonderful effect upon the city girl, and she was able now to take many a long jaunt with her ever-ready escort. Nan watched them depart, sometimes with a little sigh of envy; he with a fishing-rod over his shoulder, she with her book, both so handsome and happy, and so well suited to one another, as Nan told herself. Oftentimes, however, at Raymond’s earnest request, they made a family party of it, and taking a lunch, had a pleasant day of it in the woods, building a gypsy fire and making merry generally. There was always something in Raymond’s eyes on these occasions which reminded Nan of the first time she had spijp him from her berry-picking in the wood. She could not define the look, exactly, but it. was certainly flattering, at least, and had it been any one but her friend’s admirer, shfl'would havp been somewhat confused. For some strange reason neither had ever spoken of their first peculiar meeting, either to each other or to any one else. To be sure, there was nothing about it. that would greatly impress a disinterested person, but Nan found herself more than once dwelling upon the little episode with a certain romantic satisfaction. And then she sighed when she remembered that the gay summer days were all too quickly passing, and that ere long the pleasant companions would return to the gayeties of their city life, and the little boarding mistress would be forgotten, together with the other pleasant things which had served to amuse them during their holiday. Nan began to question herself now as to whether her summer had been a success or not, since it only served to make the rest of the year seem more gloomy by contrast. It was not, however, until the crickets began their mournful chirpings in the long grass, the nights to close in chill and damp, and the red leaves to appear here and there in the ivy and occasional maple trees, that the two city friends said farewell to their pretty hostess. It was a very sad leave-taking, on Nan’s part at least, and Miss Niles was also sorry to depart, for she had learned to love this shy little mountain flower, blooming so .far away from any companion. She saw the pain which the girl felt, and made a sudden resolve. “I shall come again,” she said decidedly, “be sure of it—in the winter sometime; I long to see you icebound. It will be such a novelty.” Nan smiled gratefully and looked shyly at Raymond, half expecting that lie, too, would announce a similar intention, for she did not like to think that he either would forget her immediately. But he made no such offer, indeed, "so careless and indifferent did he appear that Nan began to grow hurt and angry, and it was a very cold good-bye which she at last accorded him, although she could not admit that he seemed very much impressed by her sudden accession of dignity.

It certainly promised to be a very dreary Christmas for the ' Curtis family. The snow had fallen at intervals during the last few days. The trees were heavy with it yet, and about the mountain top the heavy gray clouds were still hanging with promise of more. Until the last moment almost, Nan had expected her city friend, Alice Niles, to spend the holidays with her; but the alarming accounts of the weather in the North had discouraged that lady in her romantic scheme, and the real oldfashioned country Christmas which she was so anxious to experience was indefinitely postponed. Nan’s disappointment was very bitter. Ever. since the departure of her guests she had felt a loneliness and sadness unexplainable to herself. She said nothing to those about her, but at times it seemed that the monotony of her life was rapidly becoming unbearable. This visit seemed the last connecting link with those brief, happy days, and it was very hard to have it broken. The city girl had been very kind* in her letter, and among other interesting gossip informed Nan that she intended to startle her before long with some delightful news, astonishing as it was delightful. Nan had laughed a little bitterly as she read those words. They were engaged of course, those two, as if she, Nan, had not guessed as much long ago. How stupid Miss Niles must think her, —and why had they made such a tremendous secret of it, anyway, it seemed very ridiculous. Nan was a bit cross for some reason or other; she intended to write directly and tell her friend that her secret was no secret to one observing country girl, at least. And so, on Christmas eve, Nan sat herself down before the glowing fire, feeling very melancholy and depressed indeed. She chose no light but preferred that of the fire, which flared and crackled gloriously, and sent a bright reflection, like a beacon light, far across the untrodden snow. She made a verypretty picture', could she have but known it, her sHtn hands crossed upon her knee, and her eyes fixed sadly upon the glowing logs; and if anyone had chanced to be looking in at the uncurtained window, he must have lingered long and lovingly, despite the snow and the chili north wind. How long she sat there Nan did soot know, but her musthgs did not grow more comfortable, for the tears had just crept into her eyes and one, indeed, had

fallen upon her hand, when a gentle tap upon the door made her start, half alarmed, from her chair. Who could it be, so late in the evening? Had Miss Niles decided to come after all! Possibly she had changed her mind at the last moment. Nan, with a radiant face, flew to the door and opened it wide. At first she saw no one, and coming close to the step, peered eagerly out into the darkness. Then suddenly a great wave of color swept over face and neck, and she started hack with a little gasp of surprise. “Mr. Raymond!” she cried. Her amazement evidently amused that young man, for he laughed gayly. “Yes,” he answered, “I have come up for Christmas, although you did not invite me. Can I come in?” for Nan still staring at him wonderingly, made no move to allow him to enter. “Yes,” she said without any apparent shame at her inhospitality, “but you won’t want to stay—didn’t you know?” She looked so very solemn that Raymond dropped his buoyant manner, and grew serious at once. “Know what'?’’ he asked, anxiously wondering what catastrophe had hapiwned. “Why, that she is not coming after all. I got the letter yesterday. What a pity you should come so far to be disappointed; and yet it is strange she did not tell you!’’ And Nan’s face grew longer. She knew how provoked he would be.

But Mr. Raymond still looked extremely mystified. “I do not understand,” he said. “I did not think or expect that anyone was coming but myself. Why should I be disappointed?” “Why!” cried Nan, aghast. “Weren’t you coming with Miss Niles, or didn’t you expect to meet her here? She said—that is, I thought—l was quite sure that you were ” but here poor Nan grew all at once very red and confused. A sudden amused look in her visitor’s face made her think that possibly she had been mistaken, after all, in her surmises. What if there was nothing l>etween these two but a commonplace friendship. Oh, how foolishly she had acted —like a country girl, indeed. And if he had not come to seeMissNilcs, why had he come? Nan’s heavy lashes drooped upon her cheek to conceal her sudden consciousness. But her guest only laughed at her tell-tale, downcast face. “What was it you thought?” he asked mischievously; but Nan only pouted and would not answer. She did not like to be laughed at. “Well, never mind,” he said at length, drawing her gently into the firelit room, where a moment before she had sat so disconsolately; “but now do you know what I thought ?” And Nan whispered “No,” although in her heart there was a sudden consciousness that she did know well enough. “I thought that you loved me,” he said roguishly; “why else should I be herein spite of your ice and snow?” And although Nan tried to be very angry with this conceited person for having been so sure of a fact which she would never admit herself, she could not, somehow, being a truthful girl, deny that he was right.—[Portland Transcript.