The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1875-05-22

ton, that she could no more hope to sue
coed as sketch writer than man could
expect to build a house or construct steam
engine without an hour of practice or ex-
perience? Had she been a shabby, specta
cled old lady, or a middle aged female, with
! cotton gloves and high cheek bones, it would
have been easy enough AS it was, hel
blue eyes shining wistfully into his, seemed
to paralyze the very nerves of his tongue.
! 81 have got little story here" went on
! Blanche, producing neatly folded packet,
(Which l have worked very hard upon,
and-if you would kindly look at it, and
| give me your unpreiudiced opinion"
Certainly" said Karl, recovering his
self-possession, and bowling as he took the
packet
There are some more verses, too, said
Blanche, reddening, land little essay OF
two, written as spiciy as possible. Shall
come tomorrow and get your opinion?'
by no MEANS" said Mr.. Rubens po-
litely. 81 will not trouble you to come
down to this questionable locality. If you
will allow me to call and see you.
81 shall be SO much obliged" said Miss
Ainslie, eagerly, and Karl knew that she
meant it.
Blanche Ainslie went away, leaving an
intangible little scent of ottor of roses be-
hind her-and the sun dipped down behind
the chimney tops, and the sanctum became
dark and gloomy all at once.
How pretty she is" Karl Rubens
thought, "but, pshaw! the idea of her
writing for the papers Poor child, how
.tile idea she has of the life that lies be-
fore her. However, will take the papers
to Di, and see what she has to say about
Them
Miss Diana Rubens was strong minded
young lady of a certain age, who read Car
lyle, translated Hebrew; kept house for her
brother, and did nearly as much of the
"heavy work " of the Weekly Sinner as did
the editor himself.
Fiddlesticks. said Miss Diana, as her
brother, over his evening cup of tea, tossed
the manuscript towards her and related his
story-' Little Blanche Ainslie could no
more write for the paper than my canary.
But every woman thinks she's born au-
thoress. and nothing but personal expert
ence will grind the idea out of them!"
Then Miss Diana read the neatly written
pages one by one.
"Scented with roses,'' she said scorn-
fully.
Stuff and nonsense!"
"Well," said Karl, at last, looking up
from his own writing, as Miss Diana laid
signified the completion of her task.
Fiddlesticks." was the brief yet signifi-
cant reply.
Karl rubbed his nose with the end of his
penstick, evidently little disappointed.
"You think they won't do?" said he.
"Of course they WON'T" said Miss Di.
Dishwater and adjectives-trash and SEN
timent-what are the girls thinking of now
a-days? If she had sent me few good
table receipts now, or way of cleaning
marble, or taking out mildew; but an i'm
possible love story, with the hero on stills,
and the heroine mere milk and water.
Pshaw!"
"Poor child.' said Karl, compassionately
but be never once thought of an appeal
from his sisters verdict.
"And she was SO sure of success"
"They always are!' said Miss Di.
Karl Rubens was Titled provoked at
his strong minded sister, but he remem-
bered, as a palliating circumstance that
Miss Diana had never seen Miss Blanche
Ainslie.
The editor did not sleep very sound that
night. He could not help thinking of the
beautiful girl so suddenly reduced from
luxury and wealth to utter poverty, and
when at last he fell asleep, it was to dream
Vi Uluc eyes, duu CHeStbuI hdii
with shifting lights of gold.
Karl had always admired his brokers'
pretty niece from respectful distance.
Now it seemed as if she were fairer and
more attractive than ever. In fact our edi-
tor, although he was not fully aware of it
himself, was lowering dangerously near
the magic ground of love.
He called at Miss Ainslie's the next even
ing with the condemned manuscript i'll his
pocket, and l do believe had he not stood
in righteous fear of his strong minded Sis
ter Diana, he would have told Miss Anslie
that her productions were accepted and
secretly burned them on his sanctum fire.
AS it was, it was too lately for any such
sly system of double dealing.
Blanche was at home sitting among the
spendor that was to be hers so brief time
now, and her bright, upward look, as he
entered, went to his very heart.
81 feel like Crookback Richard" he
thought, "going to murder the innocent
little princes in the Tower"
And when he told her, as gently as he
could that the stories and poetry would not
pass MUSTER she burst into tears.
Mr.. Rubens could not endure those bright
sparkling dreps.'
"Blanche!" he faltered "don't cry.
Dear Blanche, it is not worth it,
And before they parted that evening,
Blanche Ainslie had half promised to con,
slider the possibility Of accepting the edi-
tors love, since the editor could not accept
her contributions.
"The idea of supporting yourself is very
ridiculous" said Karl. 1T is great deal
better to let me support you.'
And SO Blanche Ainsie became an edi-
tors wife, and the happiest Of little ma
irons, and Karl keeps the little packet that
was g respectfully declined to this day.