The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1877-09-05

carve money, or L am mistaken. Give
her her own way, Mrs. Faxon, and
you will be repaid some day. Would
you object # you thought she might
win the love Of some rich and distin-
guished man ?"
Certainly not" returned Mrs. Fax
on, as her peony-red cheeks flushed
with deeper dye. ut is the aim and
end of wOman's life to marry, and
l suppose Babette must be a wife some
time. And / am sure / never cared
to see her tied to a country clod-hop-
per-"
She went back to her kitchen duties
full Of new thoughts.
81 think it is plain to see that Mr..
Kenwick is in love with my girl, she
ruminated "such chance must not
be thrown away. must get a kitch-
Ell girl to do Babette's work, for he
will be better pleased with the child
when he sees her in the psrlor. How
queer that this fine city gentleman
should fancy her even in the COW
yard"
But in her enforcement of a new re-
gime, Mrs FaxOI only dropped one
tyrannical blunder to take up another;
for Babette was as lily fitted to act the
frivolous, fascinating queen of the par
lor and piano, as she was to serve as
maid of the milking and scullery.
Only for the kindly notice of Roy
Kenwick, she would have been utterly
disconsolate.
This gentleman was past forty,
grand ard handsome, but quite austere
in his mein, and the girl never even
dreamed Of loving him, while some,
thing in the quizzing, but interested
expression with which he always re-
garded her latteriy, filled her with
ave aad shy fear.
She came down to the parlOr one
afternoon, to End him and Mrs. Fax
on together. She was dressed in a
simple, cool, white muslin, looped
here and there with pale pink ribbon
knots, bewitchingly becoming to her
dreamy, purple blue eyes, and artisti-
cally arranged braids of purplish
black hair. in which was fastened a
single scarlet bud of some late wild
flower.
"You must sing for Mr.. Kenwick,
Babette," said her mother.
"What shall sng?" inquired the
girl, timidly.
"What you can execute the best, Of
course" returned Mrs. Faxou, who,
believing hersalt to be a paragon OF
maternal discretion, abruptly left the
two alone.
Babette attempted simple Italian
aria, and in the midst of it, catching a
quizzical glance from Roy Kenwick's
handsome, cynical eyes, broke down
and burst into tears.
Her sensitive soul scarcely liked be
ing the football of her mothers ca
prices.
Instantly Roy Kenwick was at hel
side.
"Are you ill, Babette p he asked
kindly.
mo. sir" she replied, turning hel
wet face from him IN sham"d way
"What ais you, then?" he persist
ed, smoothing her heavy braids will
his firm white hand. Tell me free y
my child. You know l am very fonc
of you in the brotherly sort Of way
that can never be anything else. Come
tell me. Do you think you would bt
happier shut up in some solitary place
working at such beautiful things a
those are? ?"
He pointed at the crude specimen
of her handicraft that adorned tn,
homely walls, and there was something
speaking dumbly on his keen ant
friendly countenance that told her tina
he had not been quite Oblivious to he
mothers darling schemes.
"Much happier" she answered, lift
ing her passionate, lark blue eyes t.
his face. THAT is the only sort of lif
l care for AN artists life"
"That you shall have on one condi
tion," he said, holding toward her
small blood stone, rough aud fres
from the mine, and streaked throug
its green surface with red jasper like
dash of gore.
Take this and carve it into a scar
let bud, like that yonder, in a set c
leaves of its own natural greennes'
and when you bring 1t to me perfect
} ed with the artistic tonch of which
think your genius capable, anythin
you ask shall be yours. ] am goin
home foI a month or more, but | wi
/. fix things with your aunt, so she sha
f give you sufficient leisure"
r And with true polite duplicit,
r Roy Kenwick did arrange matter
} with Mrs. Faxon, so that Babette wa
/. safe in dolce far nie'ate of liberty tAa
I she had never known before.