Middletown transcript., 1881-09-23
THE DOUBLE HOUSE.
BY JEAN scoFrELD.

word, for the two divisions had beer
planned at different times, and built
without any regard to harmonious
union; consequently, although the
older part was low-ceiled, cottage-like,
and unpretentious, the newer over
topped it by a story, and assumed cor
responding airs of distinction.
The double house stood upon hill
side, in dear old New England, and
looked out over the busy town of Fair
weather, across a shining perspective
Of river. 1t had kept solitary state IN
its great garden, for years, until Fair
weather, suddenly awakening to a
sense of neglected possibilities, began
to send up stacks Of black chimneys,
to resOund with the noise of the grind
ing, and to stretch out arms on all
sides, like an exaggerated polypus
and new streets even crept across the
river, threatening to reach and embrace
the double house itself, at no very dis
tant epoch.
It was while Fairweather was in this
transition state, between town and city,
that Margaret Ralston came to live
there. with her mother and little sister,
and the three set up their simple house
hold gods, in the cottage part of the
double house. The statelier portion
had been already occupied, for some
time, by single gentleman, and his
servants.
g This place would be just perfection,
but for one thing,'' said Margaret, to
her mother.
The two were sitting in little porch,
which overlooked the river and the
town, and the summer day was closing.
Far off, in cleft between the hills, the
sun had just gone down, leaving the
sky and the river golden with lingering
reflections; the town, embosomed in
trees, looked, at that distance, as if it,
too, had abandoned itself to the spirit
Of repose. Margaret's eyes, lingering
over this picture, had been dreamy
with calm content but, on sudden,
a spark kindled in their dark depths.
Her glance had fallen, by chance, upon
two figures, visible at little distance
the figures of man and dog,
sauntering down towards the river.
The odor of cigar smoke, too, was in
the air. Margaret's brows contracted.
Margaret's lips unclosed to utter the
words which stand written above.
There was slight dash of asperity in
her tone.
What do you object to, dear: the
mills and the smoke % Mrs. Ralston
asked, turning a pair of languid eye
lids slightly in her daughters direc-
tion.
"Oh, no, mamma. We can't hear
the noise of the mills, and the smoke
becomes picturesque, at this distance.
1 like to see them both; like to think
of work, and the results of work. L
have no fault to find with the town
only with the house. wish somebody
else lived in the other half. Don't you
see Mr.. Elmering, yonder, with that
great dog of his following at his heels,
like familiar spirit | was looking
at him."
Well, you know, Margaret, We
couldn't get another place as pretty,
and quiet, and homelike, as this is for
the same money and there are draw
backs everywhere.
True enough, mamma isn't life,
itself, one grand drawback, to lone wo-
men like us? But it does seem as if
we might have had some more comfort
able cross to carry with this house,
than Mr. Elmering, for instance, a
leaky roof knocking and groaning
spook a neighbor, with a propensity
to borrow. and never RETURN said
Margaret, making whimsical little
grimace, which turned into a smile.
II don't see why you dislike the man
SO much he has never trouble us.
He does trouble me, continually.
1 never see him, that I don't feel pain
fully aware Of having been weighed in
the balance, and found wanting; be-
sides, those black looks of his will
bring us bad luck yet, Pm certain.
There he is out Of sight | am some
body again"
g really can't imagine what you
mean, Margaret y
Margaret only laughed, and settled
herself more comfortably in her chair.
She was a bright, dark, energetic-look-
ing girl, whom plenty of people were
ready to pronounce beautiful, though
the charm of her face lay rather in its
mobility, and power of expression, than
in any decided grace of coloring, or
outline. She interested you, in spite of
yourself you could not help liking to
look at, and be near her: where Mar
garet was, something fresh, and sweet,
and genuine, was. She was the great
est possible contrast to her mother a
pale woman, with a tired air, out OF
whose character fate had, as it were,
by .dint of much ill-usage, beaten all the
starch, and left it limp thing, to be
shaken this way and that, as circum-
stances pleased. Margaret had long
been the real head of the small house
hold.
The gentleman, strolling down to-
wards the river, had seen, without seem
ing to see, the two ladies seated in the
little porch, and was, at that moment,
thinking Of them, not very hatter-
ingly.
"Well, well, - he said, to himself, III
one woman was enough to destroy the
original Paradise, | need not be sur.