Janice Meredith Part 20

The sun that brights the fairest morn, The stars that gleam in Capricorn, Do not so much the skies adorn As does my lovely Thalia.

The tints with which the rose enchants, The fragrance which the violet grants; Each doth suggest, but ne'er supplants, The charms of dainty Thalia.

To gaze on her is sweet delight: 'T is heaven whene'er she 's in my sight, But when she's gone, 't is endless night-- All 's dark without my Thalia.

I vow to her, by G.o.d above, By hope of life, by depth of love, That from her side I ne'er will rove, So much love I my Thalia.

"How monstrous pretty!" cried Tabitha. "I'm sure he meant it rightly."

"I thought 't was a beautiful valentine," sighed Janice,-- "and 't was the first I ever had--but dadda says she was an ill-shaped mare--and mommy says 't was something with a tail--and 't is almost as bad to have her a wicked woman-- so I'm feared he meant it in joke--or worse--"

"I don't believe it," comforted Tibbie. "He may have made a mistake in the name, but I'm sure he meant it; that he--well--thee knows. And if thee copies it fair, and puts in 'Delia,' or 'Celia,' 't will do to show to the girls. I wish some one would send me such a valentine."

Made cheerful by her friend's point of view, Janice went on with more spirit,--

"Nor is that the end." She took from her trunk a handkerchief and unwrapping it, produced the unset miniature.

"He let me keep it," she said.

"How mighty wonderful!" again exclaimed Tibbie, growing big-eyed. "Who--"

"Furthermore, and in continuation, as Mr. McClave always says after his ninthly," airily interrupted Janice, drawing from her bosom the portrait of herself. "Who 's that, Tibbie Drinker?"

"Janice!" cried the person so challenged. "How lovely!

Who--Did Mr. Peale come to Greenwood?"

"Not he. Who, think you, did it?"

"I vow if I can guess."

"Charles!

"No!" gasped Tibbie, properly electrified. "Thee is cozening me."

"Not for a moment," cried Janice, delightedly.

"Tell me everything about all" was Tabitha's rapturous demand.

It took Janice many minutes, and Tibbie was called upon to use many exclamation and question marks, ere the tale of all these surprises was completed. Long before it had come to a finish, the two girls were snuggled together in bed, half in real love, as well as for the mutual animal heat, and half that they might whisper the lower. The facts, after many interruptions and digressions, having been narrated, Janice asked,--

"Whom, think you, Charles loves, Tibbie?"

"'T is very strange! From his valentine and miniature I should think 't was thee. But from what he told thee--"

"'T is exactly that which puzzles me."

"Oh, Janice! He--Perhaps thee was right. He may be a villain who is trying to beguile thee."

"For what could--Then why should he tell me about her?"

"That--well--'t is beyond me."

"If't had not been for coming away, I--that is--" The girl hesitated and then said, "Tibbie?"

"What?"

"Dost think--I mean--" The girl drew her bedfellow closer, and in an almost inaudible voice asked, "Would it be right, think you--when I go back, you know--to--to encourage him--that is, to give him a chance to tell me--so as to find out?"

The referee of this important question was silent for long enough to give a quality of consideration to her opinion, and then decided, "I think thee shouldst. 'T is a question that thou hast a right to know about." Having given the ruling, this most upright judge changed her manner from one conveying thought to one suggesting eagerness, and asked, "Oh, Janice, if he does--if thee finds out anything, wilt thee tell it me?"

"Ought I?" asked Janice, divided between the pleasure of monopolising a secret and the enjoyment of sharing it.

"Surely thee ought," cried Tabitha. "After telling me so much, thou shouldst--for Charles' sake. Otherwise I might misjudge him."

"Then I'll tell you everything," cried Janice, clearly happy in the decision.

"And if he does love you, Jan?" suggestively remarked Tibbie.

"'T will be vastly exciting," said Janice. "You know, Tibbie, it frightens me a little, for he's just the kind of man to do something desperate."

"And--and you would n't--"

"Tibbie Drinker! A redemptioner!"

"But Janice, he must have been a gentle--"

"What he was, little matters," interrupted the girl. "He's a bond-servant now, and even if he were n't, he'd have a bristly beard--Ugh!"

"Poor fellow," sighed Tabitha. "'T is not his fault!"

"Nor is 't mine," retorted Janice.

A pause of some moments followed and then Janice asked: "Dost think I am promised to Mr. Evatt, Tibbie?"--for let it be confessed that every incident of what she had pledged herself not to tell had been poured out to her confidant.

"I think so," whispered the girl, "and he being used to court ways would surely know."

"He 's--well, he's a fine figure of a man," owned Janice.

"And tho' I ne'er intended it, I'd rather 't would be he than Philemon Hennion or the parson."

"What if thy father and mother should not consent?" said Tabitha.

"'T would be lovely!" cried Janice, ecstatically. "Just like a romance, you know. And being court-bred, he'd know how to--well--how to give it eclat. Oh, Tibbie, think of making a runaway match and of going to court!"

Much as Tabitha loved her friend, the little green-eyed monster gained possession of her momentarily. "He may be deceiving thee," she suggested. "Perhaps he never was there."

"Nay. He knows all the t.i.tled people. He was at one of Lady Grafton's routs, Tibbie, and was spoke to by the Duke of c.u.mberland!"

For a man falsely to a.s.sert acquaintance with a royal duke seemed so impossible to the girl that this was accepted as indisputable proof; driven from her first position, Tibbie remarked, "Perhaps he won't return. Many 's the maid been cozened and deserted by the men."

For a moment, either because this idea did not please Janice or because she needed time to digest it, there was silence.