"Have you and Redbud fallen out?"

"Yes," said the young man.

"Concerning what?"

"I don't know--I mean Redbud has quarreled with me."

"Indeed!"

Verty replied with a sigh.

"Come!" said Miss Sallianna, "make a confidant of me, and confide your feelings to a heart which beats responsive to your own."

With which words the lady ogled Verty.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE RESULT.

Verty looked at Miss Sallianna, and sighed more deeply than he had ever sighed before. The lady's face was full of the tenderest interest; it seemed to say, that with its possessor all secrets were sacred, and that nothing but the purest friendship, and a desire to serve unhappy personages, influenced her.

Who wonders, therefore, that Verty began to think that it would be a vast relief to him to have a confidant--that his inexperience needed advice and counsel--that the lady who now offered to guide him through the maze in which he was confounded and lost, knew all about the labyrinths, and from the close a.s.sociation with the object of his love, could adapt her counsel to the peculiar circ.u.mstances, better than any one else in the wide world? Besides, Verty was a lover, and when did lover yet fail to experience the most vehement desire to pour into the bosom of some sympathizing friend--of either s.e.x--the story of his feelings and his hopes? It is no answer to this, that, in the present instance, the lover was almost ignorant of the fact, that he loved, and had no well-defined hopes of any description. That is nothing to your true Corydon. Not in the least. Will he not discourse with rising and kindling eloquence upon everything connected with his Phillis? Will not the ribbons on her bodice, and the lace around her neck, become the most important and delightful objects of discursive commentary?--the very fluttering rosettes which burn upon her little instep, and the pearls which glitter in her powdered hair, be of more interest than the fall of thrones? So Corydon, the lover, dreams, and dreams--and if you approach him in the forest-glade, he sighs and talks to you, till evening reddens in the west, about Phillis, only Phillis. And as the old Arcady lives still, and did at the time of our history, so Corydons were ready to ill.u.s.trate it, and our young friend Verty felt the old pastoral desire to talk about his shepherdess, and embrace Miss Sallianna's invitation to confide his sorrows to her respective bosom.

"Come now, my dear Mr. Verty," repeated that lady, "tell me what all this means--are you in love, can it be--not with Reddy?"

"Yes, ma'am, I believe I am," said Verty, yielding to his love. "Oh, I know I am. I would die for her whenever she wanted me to--indeed I would."

"Hum!" said Miss Sallianna.

"You know she is so beautiful and good--she's the best and dearest girl that ever lived, and I was so happy before she treated me coldly this morning! I'll never be happy any more!"

"Cannot you banish her false image?"

"False! she's as true as the stars! Oh, Redbud is not false! she is too good and kind!"

Miss Sallianna shook her head.

"You have too high an opinion of the s.e.x at large, I fear, Mr. Verty,"

she said; "some of them are very inconstant; you had better not trust Redbud."

"Not trust her!"

"Be careful, I mean."

"How can I!" cried Verty.

"Easily."

"Be careful? I don't know what you mean, Miss Sallianna; but I suppose what you say is for my good."

"Oh yes, indeed."

"But I can't keep still, and watch and listen, and spy out about anybody I love so much as Redbud--for I'm certain now that I love her.

Oh, no! I must trust her--trust her in everything! Why should I not? I have known her, Miss Sallianna, for years, and years--we were brought up together, and we have gone hand in hand through the woods, gathering flowers, and down by the run to play, and she has showed me how to read and write, and she gave me a Bible; and everything which I recollect has something in it about Redbud--only Redbud--so beautiful, and kind, and good. Oh, Miss Sallianna, how could I be careful, and watch, and think Redbud's smiles were not here! I could not--I would rather die!"

And Verty's head sank upon his hands which covered the ingenuous blushes of boyhood and first love. In this advanced age of the world, we can pity and laugh at this romantic nonsense--let us be thankful.

Miss Sallianna listened with great equanimity to this outburst, and smiling, and gently fanning Verty, said, when he had ceased speaking:

"Don't agitate yourself, my dear friend. I suspected this.

You misunderstand my paternal counsel in suggesting to you a suspicionative exemplification of dear little Reddy. Darling child!

she is very good; but remember that we cannot always control our feelings."

Verty raised his head, inquiringly.

"You do not understand?"

"No, ma'am," he said; "I mean, Miss--"

"No matter--you'll get into the habit," said the lady, with a languishing smile; "I meant to observe, my dear friend, that Reddy might be very good, and I suppose she is--and she might have had a great and instructive affection for you at one period; but you know we cannot control our sentiments, and Reddy has probably fancied herself in love with somebody else."

Verty started, and half rose.

"In love with somebody else?" he cried.

"Yes," said the lady, smiling.

"Oh, no, no!" murmured the young man, falling again into his seat.

Miss Sallianna nodded.

"Mind now--I do not a.s.sert it," she said; "I only say that these children--I mean young girls at Reddy's age--are very apt to take fancies; and then they get tired of the youths they have known well, and will hardly speak to them. Human nature is of derisive and touching interest, Mr. Verty," sighed the lady, "you must not expect to find Reddy an exception. She is not perfect."

"Oh yes, she is!" murmured poor Verty, thinking of Redbud's dreadful change, and yet battling for her to the last with the loyal extravagance of a true lover; "she would not--she could not--deceive me."

"I do not say she would."

"But--"

"I know what you are about to observe, sir; but, remember that the heart is not in our power entirely"--here Miss Sallianna sighed, and threw a languishing glance upon Verty. "No doubt Reddy loved you; indeed, at the risk of deeming to flatter you, Mr. Verty--though I never flatter--I must say, that it would have been very extraordinary if Reddy had _not_ fallen in love with you, as you are so smart and handsome. Recollect this is not flattery. I was going on to say, that Reddy _must_ have loved you, but that does not show that she loves you now. We cannot compress our sentiments; and Diana, Mr. Verty, the G.o.d of love, throws his darts when we are not looking--ah!"

Which last word of Miss Sallianna's speech represents a sigh she uttered, as, after the manner of Diana, she darted a fatal arrow from her eyes, at Verty. It did not slay him, however, and he only murmured wofully,

"Do you mean Reddy has changed, then, ma'am? Oh, what will become of me--what shall I do!"