File:Scribner's magazine (1887) (14595212107).jpg

Identifier: scribnersmagazin16newy (find matches)
Title: Scribner's magazine
Year: 1887 (1880s)
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Subjects:
Publisher: New York : C. Scribner's Sons
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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leasant task, he began to hum an oldair, unconsciously, at first, then with asmile at his own absuidity. The air,associated with his youthful follies, hadnot occurred to him before for manyyears. But, as he turned the corner ofthe bed nearest to the outer wall, thesong stojDped suddenly, and he stoopedto examine something that lay thereamong the flowers. A glove, a womansglove, fresh, unstained, without a dropof dew upon it! How could this comehere ? It must have fallen a momentago from some window of his neighborshouse. He looked up, but saw no one,the windows all were closed. Strange,very strange ! He knelt down in thepath, and smoothed the glove outthoughtfully. It was very small, verydelicately made ; he could not helplaughing at the contrast between it andhis own coarse hand. Then he startedup ; for, while he looked and laughed andperj^lexed himself with this discovery,the merry owner of the glove had flashedin from the street through the shadowof the arch and on into the garden.
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He stooped to examine something that lay there.—Page 182. She was no longer in her first youth,but of fair complexion, still beautiful.Her rosy cheeks showed by their height-ened color a consciousness of his admi-ration ; yet her blue eyes sparkled mis-chievously as she stood still on thefarther side of the tulip-bed, holding-out her hand. Yes, it was I who dropped it, sheexplained in a voice that was very clearand musical; from the window ofNeighbor Maes. I am a guest in hishouse. A thousand pardons to MonsieurStevin, if it is to Monsieur Stevin that Ihave the honor of speaking. Yes, he said, recovering his self- possession and assuming with it an airof formal courtesy which amused andpleased her. But the honor is mine.It is a fortunate accident that permitsme to welcome here the guest of Neigh-bor Maes. He had made the turn of the path tojoin her with his eyes still fixed uponher face. As the glove passed from hishand to hers, she avoided the look, andit was with a deeper color th

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