The Cecil Whig., 1874-05-02
MY SWEET SELF.
ICencluded.)

Olivia and l occupy the same bedroom,
where Olivia is supposed to stake care "
of me, her invalid sister. l am sitting on
low seat, brushing my hair, and watch
ing Olivia as she complacently walks back
ward and forward before the great, old
fashioned cheval- glass, admiring the effect
of her voluminous blue tartlatan dinner
dress-for Aunt Stockdale is giving din
ner- party this evening, at which sundry
county magnates are to be present. The
clock on the mantel-pi chimes, and
Olivia says
"Alce, if you do not make haste, you'll
never be dressed in time for dinner. Why,
your hair is not done up yet ~
"Never mind. I'll be dressed in time.
l mean to wear my hair hanging down this
evening""
"Doyou? You'll look a perfect fright. :"
$50 much the better for you; you'll get
all the admiration. But, l say, Olivia, has
Terry proposed yet9''
"What an absurd question !"
al don't think it is in the least absurd;
this is the second week in October, and
surely you have made some progress by
now.'
"Mind your own affairs,'' she says,
calmly, taking up her gloves and pocket
handkerchief She bangs the door after
her as she leaves the room, while | jump
up and proceed with my dressing, all the
while thinking over a subject which has
begun to engross my thoughts very fully.
am sure that Terry cares for me; numer-
Gus little nameless nothings warrant me in
coming to that conclusion. l also see that
he has come to believe in the cheat which
we have practiced upon him and his moth
er 1t gals me, and feel Inundated by
it. Once or twice, when almost overcome
by his gentle, unobtrusive kindness, |
have very nearly made a full confession to
him; but then l thought, if | did, how
ashamed mamma and Olivia would feel.
So l almost repulsed him; for thought |
could better bear his Indifference than that
he should ever find me to be hypocrite,
and consequently despise me, which feel
sure he would do, he is SO good and honest
himself.
He has treated me as have treated him
for some days-has compassed me about
with none of his customary "sweet OBJ
servances ''-and my heart feels very sore
as stand before the looking glass arrang-
ing my shining hair and fastening the scar
| let roses in it. | array myself in soft
black grenadine with silver stars upon it,
and so late that, when ! enter the drawing
room, find aunt pairing off the guests.
"Sr David Bigglesworth-my niece,
Miss Alice Charters,' and Sir David and
take our places in the ranks. My part,
ner is short, dapper, talkative, and about
fiIty, We are seated somewhere about hall
way down the table, and at the foot | see
Terry with an old dowager, rejoicing in a
head dress composed of curiosities from
the animal and vegetable worlds, on his
right hand, and Olivia on his left. How
distressngly complacent she looks!
know she is excited, for her face has dul
red hue-her nearest approach to color
My companion does his best to entertain
me: he tells me the names of the guest:
whom l do not already know, also theil
relationships to each other; he chooses my
wine for me, and chats in so pleasant ant
intelligent a manner, that feel quite in
terested in his conversation. He has trav
eled good deal, and graphically describe
scenes and places, and, before the ladie
retire, invites us all to luncheon the mex
day, promising to show me his cabinets o
curiosities.
"Well, how do you like Sir David .
says Olivia to me, soto Coce, as we ente
the drawing room.
Immensely" l reply, emphatically
she is most entertaining.
"Do you know what Terry was sayin
about you both at dinner"
"No-I haven't the ears of Midas-wha
was it - l ask.
"He said you ought to try tomake cor
quest of Sir David, as he is bachelor an
very wealthy"
"Thanks,'' responded, and l suddenl
feel as if weight were crushing my yer
heart; adding, 81 shall expect you to hel
in the endeavor, Olivia, as | consider tha
| have helped to farther your interest
here"
feel unutterably wretched to feel thu
Terry has spoken thus tauntingly abor
me, but at the same time | feel that | d
serve it, for have been sharp and sarca
tic towards him all the morning. I'll
wretched deceit that l am practcin
\ weighs upon my spirits, and oh, how hat
myself for my duplicty
l. A young woman, gorgeously arrayed
pink silk, sits down at the piano, and con
mences an astounding attack upon I'll
unoffending instrument, and under cove
of the noise, those present comfortab