The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1878-05-04

eyes, listening to a strain from Miles Van
Dorm. And even when the strain was
finished, Dora's eyes still rested upon
him with an expression that caused that
chill TO run down the vertebre of her
sister Jane.
The next day Jane carried her young
sister off with her to the city. She was
reluctant traveller, and dropped per.
ceptibly every mile farther from home
Although Jane persisted in drives and
promenades, concerts and receptions, al.
though she procured for Dora all the
amusement that money and respectable
share of influence could obtain, Dora re-
manned obstinately docile, but wearied
"a decided case of ennui," said one
of James friends. GIVE never seen that
bored expression so perfect before. I'm
afraid, Miss Fairfield, it's genuine; your
field daisy wont bear transplanting.
Jane WINGED at this, but bore it dog
gedly, until, three weeks later, the pro
fessor himself declared that the child
must go home.
"Do you not see, my friend of friends, y
cried the professor, THAT even her voice
is dwindling away? 1t is thin-thin tc
attenuation; there is no longer power MOI
compass. See, now, she must go back to
the green fields and the daisies. 1t is q
terrible sickness, this NAL du pays. In
the years that are gone, Mees Fairfield
I was nearly dying with it myself. TIC
long for ones native sky, for the all
that nourished the young life, you see.''
81 don't see," said Jane, testify, look
ing at the poor old man with an air OF
stern contempt "You needn't tell me
it's all homesickness.
Every bit of it, Mees Fairfield. Tell
her now this night that she shall &c
home tomorrow, and let us watch the re-
suit"
So Jane dropped into Dora's Hstless
ear few magical words, of which one
was home," and forthwith that treach-
erous color leaped to Dora's cheek, her
lips trembled. ooh, Janer' she muir
INJURED, and two big tears OF JOY fell out
of her trembling eyes.
One little hour after, she sang divinely
to the professors accompaniment. That
good man clasped his hands and looked
upward with devout enthusiasm
Ach schon" he said, "aconderschon r'
And the exclamation was volume in
itself. 1t prophesied success and glory,
the fulfilment of all their dreams.
az suppose it might be homesickness, !"
whispered Jane to herself, consolingly,
" there's so much of maudlin sentiment
tally in their natures. If this old idol
of a professor babbles thus of green
fields and daisies, why shouldn't it be for
Dora?'
All tie way home, however, a moody
skepticism weighed upon the soul of
taken with spirit of the delicacies pro-
vided for the evening meal, and nestled
close to her mothers side in the evening
twilight, singing softly but joyously a
little hymn they all loved, that Jane was
allowed 70 rest upon the thought that it
was only homesickness, after all that
allied Dora.
But even as they sat there, hemmed
in with ropes of tangled shrubs, the fra
grant scent of hop vine slyly steepin g
the practical soul of Jane to semi-in-
toXlcatiOn, DOra's sweet voice seemingly
a part of the dew and the twilight, and
all of it wondrously resting to the poor
tired modiste from town-even then a
big shadow doomed up before them, and
rather hard, rasping voice said, +" I've
come to bid you good bye"
Jane cast one look at Dora. The rosy
lips of the child were still parted with
the last note of the song, her little white
hands stretched forth unconsciously to
the new conner and faint excho of the
word "Good bye" reached Jane.
"Why, dear mel" said Mrs. Fairfield
-" I never thought to tell you that Mr.
Van Dorm is going away. Ralph Pey-
ton has coaxed him off to his church in
the city to be chorister there; and our
folks don't like it bit, either But |
suppose it's best for Mr.. Van Dorm
there amt much chance for getting
ahead here. What with tagging at the
village store all day, and teaching school
at night, | can't see when he gets a
chance to read law; but | believe he
does it, somehow or other"
"That is one reason why | can't stop
and converse with my friends as other
people do" said Mr.. Van Dorm, but
can only find time to say good bye. /
shall miss Miss Dora's voice in my new
choir. 1t is always full and rich; but /
never noticed till tonight the haunting
sweetness about it, that gets by the
senses into the soul, and stays there when
the music is fed"
Hum. " said Jane; "you'll never
make much of lawyer if you din such
stuff as that in peoples ears"
g | don't give way to it often" said
Van Dorm langhingly, and made his way
over to Mrs. Fairfield and Dora. Sud-
denly Jane saw the slender figure of her
sister stagger few steps towards the
door, than sink forward, Jane sprang
to catch the falling form, but Van Dorm
already held her in his arms, and lifting
her into the sitting room, placed her
gently on the old chintz covered lounge
near the window.
cit is the heat, L guess, said Van
Dorm, with flush of surprise and alarm
in his face.
Yes" said Jane, bitterly, ait is the
heat, and you'd better get away; the
fewer; people we have here devouring the
air, the better"
Van Dorm cast one more lingering,
puzzled, pitying glance upon Dora's pros
trate form, then went away.
Dora soon recovered consciousness, and
said no word of complaint; only asked
that she might go to her room at once
g wonder what allied Dora?" said
Mrs. Fairfield, when they had put the
child to bed, and descended again to the
sitting-room.
"Oh, mother" said poor Jane, "get
away, and leave me to myself a while
Whatever allied her, couldn't have been
homesickness, could it?' Then she
laughed sardonically. And Mrs. Fair
field declared, as she got out of her eldest
daughters presence, that if there was
one thing more than another she hated,