Hearts Afire - By J. D. Rawden Page 0,2
boy on his way with the flowers to Charlotte ere he was satisfied they would reach her quickly enough. This finished, he began to consider what he should do with his day. Reading was impossible; and he could think of nothing that was possible. “It is the most miserable thing,” he muttered, “to be in love, unless you can go to the adored one, every hour, and tell her so,”—then turning aimlessly into Adams Street, he saw Charlotte.
She was dressed only in a little morning gown of Indian chintz, but in such simple toilet had still more distinctively that air of youthful modesty which he had found so charmingly tantalizing. He hasted to her side. He thanked his good fortune for sending him such an enchanting surprise. He said the most extravagant things, in the most truthful manner, as he watched the blushes of pleasure come and go on her lovely face, and saw by glimpses, under the veiling eyelids, that tender light that never was on sea or land, but only on a woman's face when her soul is awakening to Love.
Charlotte was going to the “Universal Store” of Lady Denham, and Harleigh begged to go with her. He said he was used to shopping; that he always went with his mother, and many others; that he had good taste, and could tell the value of laces, and knew how to choose a piece of silk, or match the crewels for her embroidery; and, indeed, pleaded his case so merrily, that there was no refusing his offer. And how it happened lovers can tell, but after the shopping was finished they found themselves walking towards her home with the fresh wind, and the bright sunshine and the joy of each other's presence all around them.
“Now, Harleigh, confess you've been vastly standoffish this morning. Twice have I spoken to you and you've not troubled to answer me—nay, let me finish! And once you looked at me like I had a raccoon on my head! Yes sir, you did!”
“Did I now, Charlotte? ’Tis a surly brute you're after thinking me, then?”
Charlotte walked up and sidled round to him.
“You truly are a brute, Harleigh?”
He flung an arm about her and drew her on to his side.
“Sure, yes, Charlotte.”
“Well then, Harleigh, had you not better tell me what it is that silences you?” she coaxed, laying a persuasive hand around his shoulder.
He smiled up at her.
“Tis just an inquisitive cuss you are!”
Charlotte then gave Harleigh the pout that melts all mens hearts.
“And ye should not pout your pretty lips at me if ye are not wanting me to kiss them!” he added, suiting the action to the word.
“But of course I do!” cried Charlotte, returning the kiss with fervour. “Nay, Harleigh, tell me.”
“I see ye mean to have the whole tale out of me, so—”
“To be sure I do!” Charlotte nodded.
He laid a warning finger on her lips and summoned up a mighty frown.
“Now will ye be done interrupting, me my lady?”
Not a whit abashed, she bit the finger, pushed it away, and folding her hands in her chest, cast her eyes meekly heavenwards.
With a twinkle in his own eyes the young man continued:
“Well, Charlotte, ye must know that yesterday I was at the machine shop with your father—and he treated me roughly, and I had very uneasy feelings about the matter—”
On a sudden Charlotte's demure air changed.
“Is that so, Harleigh? I make no doubt your feelings were true? Realize, how much father loves me?”
“Whisht, darlin', is a mere thrifle, I assure you.... things will play out—”
My lady's eyes widened in comfortableness, and two little hands clutched at his coat.
“Oh, Harleigh!”
His arm tightened round her waist.
“Such a miraculous piece of happiness!” the young fellow ejaculated; and his joy was so evident that Charlotte could not bear to spoil it with any reluctances, or with half-way graciousness. She fell into his joyous mood, and as star to star vibrates light, so his soul touched her soul, through some finer element than ordinary life is conscious of. A delightsome gladness was between them, and their words had such heart gaiety, that they seemed to dance as they spoke; while the wind blowing Charlotte's hair, and scarf, and drapery, was like a merry playfellow.
Time went swiftly, and suddenly Charlotte remembered that she was subject to hours and minutes, A little fear came into her heart, and closed it, and she said, with a troubled air, “My mother will be anxious. I had forgotten. I must go