Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1880-05-07
The SiSter.in-LaW.

cts little paradise ?" the brid,
answered, enthusiastically.
And SO it was-tho pretty cottage
house, with it's miniature bay-win
dow, its frescoed parlor, the littl,
dining room, with dadoes and frizes
according to the most modern ide,
of art, and the chintz-drapcd win
dows up stairs.
"And everything is just as 70,
would have IT," questioned Mr.
Fontaine.
Yes, except"
And hen Barbara stopped short
and began, with a little embarrass
ment, to finger the buttons of he,
husbands great-coat.
L" Except what, my darling .
urged Fontaine, tendcrly.
Must your sister live with us
always?' asked Barbara, with lit
tie pout.
Fontaine's brow clouded over.
"She has no other home. Bar
hara. Don't you like her, Bar
bara q
{" No, 1 DON'T" said Barbara, with
q shrug of the shoulders. " "She's
so cold, and silent, and sullen. And
she isn't a bit pretty. l like people
to he pretty"
You're an unreasonable little
puss!" said the bridegroom laugh
ing. Mary is we'll enough. It's
her way to be silent"
But it isn't mine. And l shall
be sure to quarrel with her before
the week is out
1.-The quarreling will all be on
your side" said Fontaine. Mary
never quarreled with any one in her
life"
- hate human CLANS" said Bar
bara.
"Ah. you'll get along splendidly"
said Fon:aine, glancing at his watch.
"And now goodbye! I'm late for
business already"
As he went out through the pretty
little octagonal ante-room, he saw
Mary Fontaine, standing, like pale
statue, between the white muslin
curtains, and the unpleasant idea
whether she could possibly have
overheard any part of their recent
conversation entered his mind.
eco in and talk to Barbara, Pol
ly," said he, cheerfully. She'll be
a little lonesome without me just al
first, and will be glad of your com
pany."
Miss Fontaine glided like silent
ghost, into the bright drawing
room, where the tea-roses blossomed
and the canaries suhg, and bright
sea-coal fire glowed under the ma
roon-velvet draperies of the mantle.
But with all her etfolt so be soci-
able, she found herself unable to
talk. Subjects were taken up and
dropped, until Barbara desisted in
despair.
"Sit there, like statue of ST.
lence-and grim one at that, if
you like" said she to herself, as she
took up move! and leaned back
among the sofa cushions. CT can
stand it, if you can?" and dead
muteness fell on them.
Mary Fontaine's eye, falling on
the opposite mirror, took in the con-
trast between the two, and a pang
thrilled through her heart. Barbara
was like little human sunbeam, so
bright, so vivacious, so full of mirth
and sweetness, with her hossy masses
of golden hair, wild-rose complexion
and laughing blue eyes; while she,
pale and dark, with solemn gray
eyes, colorless complexion, and lips
that seemed stricken absolutely
dumb in the presence of the bride,
was the type of cloud.
cit is as she has said," thought
poor Mary. Il am not pleasant
object about the house; I don't Won
der that she wants me out of it.
But, oh, I did so hope that she
would have loved me little ?"
AS the weeks went on, Mary
grew evea colder and less demon
strative in manner, and Barbara
more careless and indifferent, while
Harry Fontaine looked obviously
on.
The girls don't get on we'll to-
gether," said he to himself, and I'm
sure / don't know why"
But one chilly Autumn evening.
as Mary Fontaine was strolling aim
lessly among the woodland paths,
just beyond the garden wall, pick
ing up a red leaf here and there,
she met fat. vulgar-looking old
woman, carrying a black-velvet bag,
and dressed in the very height of
the fashion, coming out of the cot
tage gate.
care you one of the family?
said the old woman, brusquelv.
Mary looked at her in amazement.
8" l am Miss Fontaine," said she,