The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1881-08-27

nolds, and a Titan, and q Rambrandt an,
the library, where he has some rare edition
OF Shakespeare, aud other books. Do 20,
know papa"
IL have never seen him since his wedding
day, when every one was saying how delight
full It was to witness the union of two arts
souls"
Did they say thats" SAID Molly. II d.,
not know mamma ever thought papa artistic
She says he cannot rise above Shakespeare
and she says Shakespeare Is false art. Blu
perhaps papa and | shall grow to her idea
some day. She says It might burst upon u
quite suddenly. What doyou Think"
Heaven forc!end" | could not refrair
from saying ferventIy why in that case
Sir John would burn Ill his line books ant
pictures"
Then you don't think shall ever he like
mamma ?" sad Molly, rather dejectely.
shook my head
"Well, | am little glad" said she, more
brightly, "for feel as If | should never really
care TO sit In dark room aud contemplate
And yet can't help being just little bit sor
ry for mamma says NINE Is not the highcs
longed to tell her she was perfect, but
forbore.
But you lcaa very useful life" replied
Huaueuil. iou o'cyou' io'hei sc"hPhu'on
and help"
"Oh, but that is pleasure" she cried II
like riding with papa, and dong things fol
him, and trying to make him happy. Mamma
says there is no good In any life which does
not yearn over humanity. Now, | do moi
yearn-"
mo" | interrupted. half amused. "iou
do much better. You make every item of hui
manity hSppy which comes near you"
That Is nothing" she replied. People are
80 kind IN seeming to like to talk to me. Blu.
do you know, think an beginning to i'm
prove, tor never entertained one Of mammals
guests before, and you are one of her guests
But you are not like her other friends at all
for they always say hush, when speak, and
they lecite such queer poems, and talk so very
strangely. or else sit silent for hours, amt then
they call me shepherdess.'
II wish you would come and mind my
sheep!" exclaimed.
Have you sheepr' she asked, simply.
"Only hguratively," l replied. II will tell
you what mean another day. Now | must
90 and say goodbye to your mother"
We went pack to the house, and Molly
plucked halfdead rose on our way, and plaC
ed it in the center OF her bunch of withered
leaves But at the drawing.room door she
transferred this strange bouquet from her hand
to nine.
Mamma could not bear two voice again,
she said. please give these to her"
A chill came over me as | re entered the
gloomy apartment, but this time made my
way more easily to Lady de Burgh's side. She
still held the grOundsel in her hand, and laid
i, ,enderly on her knee as she received MOly's
little bouquet, and turned it round.
Dear, pretty rustic" she said, sadly. "She
has no originality, no innate appreciation, no
immense purposes, but she Is obedient She
has no agonizing passions, but she Is fond"
''Shc is a goddess" said, warmly
Lady de Burgh looked at me in mourntul
surprise.
"Goddesses," she observed, "were merely
terrestrial creatures, deleu by vulgar admi'
ration for strength of beauty They hau no
soul. do not speak of the common soul
which animates us all, but of that vast spring
Of appreciation, that pure grasp of the intan-
gible, that lntultive perception Of profundity,
that ecstatlc soul which is possessed by the
very few"
Then she noticed the dandelion in my but.
ton-hole, and, emerging from her cushions, she
touched 1t with the tips of her fingers
You are very artistic" she said. II can
see it at glance. We must be great friends.
But must not keep you longer now, for |
have much to occupy my mind before sleep
tonight
So left her with her dead rose and her
groundsel, and her grand thoughts. But Mol
y WAS in the hall, with her happy, genial
manner, and when had sad goodbye to her
and departed, my last impression OF that house
was one of joy ANA serenity.
The railway station and the hotly-cush,oned
train seemed very prosaic after my interview
with Molly. But as | was whirled back To
London the beautiful truth entered with con
victlon into my m'nd, that the practical con
veniences of life were the vehicles of romance.
How often might not this commonplace tram
carry me again and again TO the side of her
whom already regarded as my divinity, Aud
though, when 1t all came about the mother
called me u clown ana the father Il thief, for
daring to WOO their daughter, what cared |
when | had won that peerless maid 10 be the
shepherdess OF my figuraivc sheep in good
carncst.-1rgOsy.