A BOARDING - SCHOOL ROMANCE .
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there was a particularly aristocratic street, or “lane,” as everything was called there, where nobody who had anything to do with buying and selling ever presumed to establish themselves.
The grandest of all the “places” on this exclusive lane was owned and occupied by Mr. Willmore—father to Clifford, and brother to Mr. Frederick Willmore. It was a beautiful home— picturesque, solid, and comfortable; and wealth and taste had gone hand-in-hand in the designing of the house, and laying out of the grounds.
Next door, which was a few squares off, a very pretty cottage, that did not aspire to be a ‘place,” was the residence of Miss Lingle, a single lady of comfortable means, whose solitude was enlivened by a very pretty little niece, with black eyes that made sad havoc with the susceptible hearts of all the boys in the neighborhood. They had comical ways of showing their admiration: such as prowling around the lane in bodies of four or six, watching, at night, for Miss Pansy’s shadow on the window-blind; and bestowing gratuities of from ten cents upward on an old colored man who did Miss Lingle’s garden chores, for any bits of information respecting the whereabouts or occupations of “the young Missus.”
This gang of admirers seemed to take comfort in perching themselves on the fence of an opposite lot, watching the in-goings and outgoings at the cottage, much to Pansy’s amusement, who was not at all disturbed by their proceedings, and was quite content to remain a child as long as her aunt desired.
Clifford Willmore, who was at the head of this youthful band, considered himself peculiarly fortunate in having the good-will of Miss Lingle, and being permitted to go in and out at the cottage very much as he pleased. Not a few airs of superiority did he assume on the strength of this; and he had informed his rivals in confidence that, as soon as Miss Pansy was seventeen, he intended to speak to her aunt. They took this very good-naturedly, without abating their own admiration in the least, and looked up to Clifford with equal pride and affection.
He was certainly a remarkable boy, and more manly at fourteen than many men, Those dark-gray eyes of his would flash and glitter with noble anger, or melt, with the softest love-glances; and his face was a perfect kaleidoscope of expression. While plunging with the greatest vim into all sorts of boys’ sports, he was no less devoted to study; and his course of reading was quite different from that pursued by boys generally. As he was the only child of wealthy parents, who looked upon him as a perfect prodigy, Master Clifford had his library, and his laboratory, and his printing-press, and whatever else his princeship might happen to consider necessary to his happiness.
He was not a bit spoiled, howevers but was quite as unselfish and pleasant-tempered as though he had been one of ten sons. His uncle, who was only four years his senior, was an excellent substitute for a brother; and when at home from college, succeeded in making the great house very lively.
Mr. Frederick Willmore did not wonder at the boys’ admiration for little Miss Heart’s-ease, as he called her; and declared that, if they had left him the ghost of a chance, he should certainly go in and try it. He was quite a venerable being, however, in Pansy’s eyes; and if that small damsel had been conscious of possessing a heart, she would certainly have bestowed it upon his nephew.
This same nephew had ventured to present his lady-love and her aunt with two bottles of cologne of his own manufacture, of which Miss Lingle kindly said that she had seen worse, and Pansy pronounced it “lovely.” Clifford’s scientific experiments, however, were pursued under difficulties; and burned fingers, and face, and threatened eyes, frequentiy testified that his enthusiasm exceeded his knowledge.
He seemed to flourish, in spite of these misadventures; and the years sped on and brought him to his eighteenth birthday, and Pansy to her sixteenth. They both came on the same day; and Miss Lingle gave a very pleasant little party to celebrate the double event.
It was certainly Clifford’s duty to be very happy on this auspicious occasion, when good wishes were showered upon him as thickly as nots in autumn; but he was not happy, and the party seemed to him just the stupidest gathering he had ever attended. A scowl and a smile struggled together on his handsome face whenever he caught sight of his divinity; for Pansy seemed to have suddenly blossomed into full beauty, and floated about like a lovely flower, bestowing pleasant smiles and words upon several brainless whiskerandoes from the city, whom Clifford longed to shake out of their patent-leather boots.
He caught the young lady somewhere in a vestibule, as she was on the wing, and proceeded to administer quite a scolding for her want of devotion to himself. It was a most eloquent, and rather a novel, outbreak; but Miss Pansy, instead of ‘owning her faults, her
