The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-08-21
sYLyIA'S SUITORS.

... eHt r. .S1LtlAS SUIIOES. r |r
a. SYLVIA ENGLrs folded the letter she had
lust Written and put it in the envelope
Then she arose from her chair, put on her
hat and sacque, and so opened the letter and
read the last pages over. .ysc- -.tts.t tg q
II" You need not WONDER" she read, "why
lprefer oispend october at the sea shore
II you We're here-I wish you were-you
would rather wonder why all the world is
not of my mind. But am glad it isn't. I'd
like another woman to help entertain the
Two learned men who also sojourn here, but
L should object to the world. One of the
charms OF the place is my sense of proprie-
tary right in the ocean. For me the tides
come and go; for me the sea breaks and
rolls; mine are the sunsets and white CAPS
and mine, o Rachel, the spoil and the plum
der! For know, my dear, that / do not stay
only for the fine weather and the ocean, nor
Tor good comradeship, but for moses! Never
again win you say you are tired of Miss
Engles' cowslip china 1t, Rachel, has had
its day! 1t is to be succeeded by MOSES.
sea weeds, 0lg9. They will be the rage! /
am determined upon that. You and your
fashionable friends can make conversation,
as you sip your chocolate, upon the variety
and delicacy of my designs. No plate is to
have Its duplicate, no cup its fellow. l shall
not paint very many, but L warrant YOU
they'll be expensiye! You will go wild when
you see my designs, but you need not hope
to buy any of my china. 1t will be dear, too
dear Still, as you are going to be married,
you shall have tete-a-tete set. In the mean
time, won't you stop at my studio and tell
the janitor that will be home the 1st of
November? You might suggest some dust
ing up. As ever, SIN
"Now, . said Sylvia, g Rachel will have
news to tell )" and then she put on her gloves,
and started for the post-ofiice.
As she walked along Atlantic Avenue, and
then down one of the cross streets toward
the ocean, she thought the place looked as if
it had been desolated by the plague. The
stores, the hotels, the pleasant sunny cot
tages, were all closed and silent. No one
was to be seen upon the long and sandy
streets. On some of the avenues were rows
OF forlorn and dingy bath houses, moved
away from the beach and from winter tides.
The long board walk by the shore, the pa
vilions, which at their best suggested Samp-
son Brass's summer-house, We're gone and
the very signs of gay life silenced made the
place dOubly desolate. d" t-
But Sylvia was too full of vitality to feel
depressed, and indeed rather enioyed the
loneliness that left her free and happy. m
She was pretty, she had abundant interests
in her life, and she had half made up her
mind to marry. She was not young for she
was thirty-six; but she had had very good
time, and she meant never to have bad one.
She had once lived abroad, and had studied
technical terms, and knew all about the
schools; and when she wrote pretty little
poems she turned them with many neat al
fusion to both Dante and Raphael. She was
never worried because she could not paint
great pictures, and when she was in Paris
she used to go among the studios, and with
out any envy admire ambitious Americans
working at POmpeiian interiors and Arabs
at prayer When she came home she refused
all pupils, and applied herself to painting
little girls. Her pictures sold, but with
mildness; yet her day of triumph came. 1t
came with decorative art" and a panel
and tea-seryice established her reputation,
and made Sylvia the fashion. After this all
was easy. '"i ''
The man she thought of marrying was
Professor Arnold. He was widower with
one child, and Sylvia had now been at the
sea-shore for two months with them. She
had always meant to marry, and any one
could see that this would be suitable match.
he had position and money, and Sylvia liked
both, and thought she deserved both. The
child, little Josie, was fond of her, and she
liked to have the tender little creature de-
pend on her, run after her, and play the ty-
rant over her. s'i
When Sylvia reached the beach she found
Josie busy making well in the sand, while
DIR. Kennedy walked up and down. His
long ulster was buttoned over his slender,
tall figure, and he wore huge blue and
white scarf tied over his hat to protect his
ears. Hnt ly5l 1Ut -. t".t
"Oh, here you come ~ he cried. 81 have
been watching for you. just come here,
Miss Sylvia. Nowlook over the water. What
do you seeW se,, .-,e .ssT. t-,s,-.
Sylvia went to him. ar see the waves
breaking on the shore,'' she replied. at is
high tide, but the breakers are not rough.
1t is tranquil sea-"
"What else!" he asked" no ships, no
boats, no gullsr' ru ..l, r.f.
HOnlV water and skV -
snow look along the Shore" aN
81 see sand-a long, level stretch of gray
sand"
Sand the SKYE" t Hu
"There are clouds. They are white and
many-piled. The sky is soft and blue, and
over there" pointing, "the sunset colors are
reflected from the west"
"Then," said he impressively, "look at
that child You have not mentioned her-a
mere speck Of humanity, a creature not three
feet high, a small bit Of color, red and white;
and vet she is all we see between here and
Portugal! Think of it. Nearly four thou
sand miles of space, and hers the only life in
sight Miss Sylyia,n and the Doctors voice
deepened, ''this is what call-solitudeW
"And you like it,? ....
"Yes,h he said, ST do. 1 like it, as the
Frenchman did, when have pleasant COM
panion with whom to share it,"
''Very WELL" said Sylvia, taking out her
watch, 'sif come under that head, will
stay with you fifty three minutes. BY that
time Thomas will be ready to sound his gong
for supper, and the Professor will be walk
ing on the porch looking for u.s."