The Lamoille news. (Hyde Park, Vt.) 1877-1881, 1878-06-19

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turbed all the morning. Comel"
He led me to my chambers, made me
pack my portmanteau, and had me down
to the station and in railway carriage
almost before / had quite made up my
mind whether 1 would go or not.
You have not forgotten how to row,
have you?" he asked, as we rushed
through the country.
'No, 1 fancy not; but I'm not in the
condition 1 was when we rowed in our
first boat during the May races. What
time do you dine, by the way2"
"We never dine"
"Nop'
"No. We breakfast and lunch, and
go on the water when the latter meal has
been digested, and come back to a cold
spread when we have had enough mist
and moonlight. 1t is very romantic, I
assure you."
"No doubt" said I, thinking that I
would have a pressing engagement to
tear me back to town very soon.
Wehad almost reached Sinclair's villa
before the sweet odors of grass and
flowers got fair hold of my senses, or
the strange stiffness of everything ceased
to confuse me.
1t was a delicious place the house
was white and wide and low, and covered
with jessamine and honeysuckle, and
shaded on three sides by broad veran-
da, upon which the French windows of
the sitting room opened. The stables
and kitchen were out of sight and smell
somewhere the lawn was cool with
trees, and the bright, swiftly flowing
river shone at the bottom of it.
A lady sat in a cane camp-chair in the
veranda, reading the paper she heard
our voices and rose, aud I was intro
duced to Mrs. Sinclair. My friend had
made good selection she was hand
some, well-dressed, courteous, hospita-
BILE, without knowing it. By which, as
l cannot read peoples hearts, I of course
mean that she gave one the impression
of not knowing it. She rather patronized
me as being benighted bachelor, after
the manner of matrons of twenty.
1t was about five o'clock in the after
noon, and she wanted to have dinner for
me in a couple of hours, but, of course,
would not let them alter their domestic
arrangements, SO I had slight snack
then and there, after which / declared
my readiness to take to the water.
Passing out on to the lawn, according
ly, found another lady with Mrs. Sim
clair, and was made acquainted with
Miss Filmer, quiet, retiring little girl,
rather nice looking when you came to
notice her particularly, which one might
very well neglect doing when there were
several other girls present. Mrs. Sin
clair called her Daisy, and most ap-
propriate name it was for her. The
boat-house, which was also arranged as
a convenient bath-house, giving promise
Of an early plunge next morning, con-
tanned an outrigger, q canoe and skiff.
The latter, which was afoat and only
fastened by a paddock, was loosened !;
the ladies seated themselves in the stern,
Mrs. Sinclair taking the tiller, and as
her husband remembered that 1 had
rowed on the stroke-side at the Univer-
sity I was placed on the after-thwart, in
easy conversational contact with them.
When Sinclair wanted to join in the talk
he had to raise his voice and to demand
repetition of any laughter-causing OBJ
servation with "What's that ?"
I had not rowed for some time and my
hands were rather tender, but I took it
easy and saved them.
1t was calm and glowing evening,
the scenery was that which I like best,
the conversation of the ladies was by no
means of furbelows, as Sinclair had put
it, but clever, natural and interesting,
so that was enjoying myself thorough
ly and no longer calculated on an early
departure.
"Are you telking about books 2" cried
Sinclair from the bows. Mind what
you say, Kate; Jones there is an author
ity."
'"No, no." said I; {" I am only hang
er.on to journalism"
"Oh, I am so glad that you are lit
erary man. 1 do SO really want good
opinion about certain book. Miss
Filmer, you must know, is an au-
thoress.
ooh, no, Kate !"
"You are, Daisy, and you are great
deal too diffident. Difidence is great
bar to success, is it not, Mr.. Jones ?"
"In my proper profession, the law, it
certainly would be FATAL" replied,
laughing. "And 1 think that in author
ship a little confidence is just as well.
But what is your work, Miss Filmer-a
novel2"
"No, though am accused of diff
dence, I was so ambitious as to write
verses. But was rightly punished for
my temerity, and their worthlessness
was fully exposed.
"The most disgraceful, the most un-
manly, cowardly attack that was ever
penned I" cried Mrs. Sinclair indignant
ly. "Some of the poems are beautiful;
all show originality and talent; you shall
see them for yourself, Mr.. Jones, and
judge"
"Oh, no, pleased" said Miss Filmer,
who looked really distressed.
"I hope you will not refuse me the
pleasure of reading them, said l.