The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1878-06-29
Select Storg,
APPLES OF DIsCORD.

curtains are completely saturated, ana
Aunt Alice Amesbury shook out her i'm
maculate window drapery with many ex-
pressions of disgust.
at is just Imagination, aunty, replied
her pretty niece, glancing up from her
embroidery. "Mr. Paul Seldom always
smokes on the balcony"
eyes, consequently the odious smoke is
waited by the window drafts directly into
the parlor. For my part l deeply regret
even having taking gentlemen boarders,
they are such upsetting creatures and
make such world of work.
at was your own proposition, aunty.
1t YOU will recollect was in favor of tax
ing only ladies. But you said they were
never satisfied, were meddlesome, and did
not pay as we'll as gentlemen"
"All very true,' answered Aunt Alice,
with little pink creeping into her faded
cheeks; "but, Clara, did not suspect you
capable of getting up Irritation with one
of the gentlemen"
Having been beaten in the argument
she, womanlike, shifted the subject in
hand into an entirely different channel,
dropping the old grievance for new, as
if the much abused curtains were, after
all, only a secondary consideration.
"Flirtation, Aunt Alice! !" exclaimed
Clara, in a wide-cyed innocence, though
the very next moment they were veiled in
modest commotion, while the tell-tale color
frightened the pretty face.
II do not know what else you call 1t,
Clara. Paul Seldom has become your al
most shadow. If you practice he is lean
ing over the piano; if you sit reading or
sewing he is certain to be at your feet or
very near. You cannot even step into
the garden to gather few flowers but he
is instantly there keeping you to vast time
by the hour"
"Now, Aunty, you are not your dear,
old, kind self, but just bit cross and un-
just" exclaimed her niece, with tears in
her blue eyes, and springing up she threw
her arms about her aunt, (who was very
energetically dusting and arranging the
pretty little parlor) thereby considerably
mussing the crispness of the morning wrap
per, which, like herself, was precise and
immaculate upon most occasions.
Though an unmarried maiden Of middle
age, Miss Alice Amesbury was not in the
least like the traditional spinster, soured
and disagreeable. On the contrary she
was gentle, kind and always sweet-temper-
ed, and had thus retained very much OF
her youthful bloom and prettiness. She
owned lovely home in one of the sub
urban villages that surround New York,
and with her orphaned niece as sole COM
panion lived in calm independence until
the hard times reduced the income from
from the railroad bonds she depended upon
for support. Then, as last resort, she
had opened her quiet house to couple of
gentlemen borders-a rich bachelor, old
and gouty, who always kept his own room;
and young nephew who was his devoted
attendant and general business agent, and
the cause of much anxiety to the watchful
Miss Amesbury.
"There, there, Clara, you are wrinkling
my dress. Sit down, child, and listen to
what I have to say. Paul Seldom is ex-
actly what his uncle was at his age-vain,
selfish and exacting."
"OhI Aunt Alice, how can you know
anything of what his uncle was at his age?"
"The moment those Seldons set their
feet in my house recognized the elder as
an old friend of my youth-one l now con-
gratulate myself as having escaped linking
my fate with"
"Were you actually engaged to that old
bear of fellow, aunty2"
"Yes," she sighed, with misty eyes, sit
was the one rose dream of my youth.
There was much of folly and sentiment
upon my part, jealousy and suspicion and
unkindness upon his. And-well, Clara,
| cannot dwell upon that portion of my
life. But let me warn you, will never
countenance any engagement between
yourself and one of the family. They are
selfish, naughty and overbearing.
"Have you any idea the uncle, Charles
Seldom, recognized you ?" questioned Clara,
ignoring the last remark of her aunt.
81 feared SO at first, but, ah time has
changed me so much-so many years have
passed, that it is quite impossible"
"The name Amesbury, aunty, is an un-
common one, and / should think he would
recognize you by that"
He may never have heard it since COM
ing here. Mr.. Paul seemed to find some
difficulty in recollecting it, calling Gains
ley, and almost everything else that
sounded like it. Then, you know, you
only address me as Aunt Alice, and !
requested him to call me "Miss Alice"
when he endeavored to get my name cor
rectly.a
What cute woman you are, aunty.
WOman's wit forever. And as a gentle