The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1882-10-18
SELECTED SKETCH.
A DOMESTIC DESpOT.

All, dear me, d lr me p sighed Mrs
Copman. "What world of trouble this
is !"
Her son-in-law looked up from the news
paper he was reading He was tall, hand
some man of thirty, with soft dark eyes,
aud here and there silver streak in his
hair
SIS there any new trial developing itself ?"
he asked, kindly
"No," said Mrs. Copman; "nothing es-
peeial. Except that Marion wants the green
parlor for studio. There's such an excel
lent north light to it, you know"
swell" said Henry Charters, "why not
let her have it'll"
But what shall we do for a reception
room ?" said the old lady.
"Take my library" suggested he.
"My dear Henry And all the books
what is TO become of them? But dear Mar
ion wonld be so delighted if only the plan
were practicable"
"Put them in my bedroom" said Mr..
Charters, absently Floyd can easily
knock up few shelves there. II is pity
that Marion should be disturbed in the pros.
ecution of her art"
You are always kind and thoughtful"
said Mrs Copman, frightening up, as she
hurried away to give the necessary directions.
Floyd, Mr.. Charteris' faithful Scotch SER
vitor, stared blanky when the old lady issued
her orders.
my masters library" said he, cup TO
his bedroom? Wherever will l put the
books ?"
"Oh, there's plenty of room for few
Shelves" said Mrs. Copman, briskly. And
if there should be volume or SO left over,
they can easily be put in the closet under
the stairs, which has good large window
looking out over the stables"
Floyd whistled under his breath, but there
was nothing for it but to obey.
81 never see such q mother-in-lawed
house as this in all my life :" said he to the
housekeeper, with a groan. "Here's Mr..
/ Harry, crowded into the bedroom in the
north wing, and the closet under the stairs,
while Mrs. Copman and her three Gorgon.
/ faced daughters have usurped the whole
house, with their studios, and their music.
rooms, and their boudoirs, and the mischief
only knows what all ~
/ The housekeeper shook her head.
"Ah, you may well say sol' said she,
Sand that amt the worst of it, neither,
Floyd"
| =, /" Eli n said the old man.
How long is it since Mrs. Charteris--
poor lady died ?" mysteriously questioned
Mrs. Akers.
"Sixteen--seventeen months, amt it p
said Floyd. But why?'
All" said the housekeeper, when the
two years are up she'll make him marry one
of The three sisters You'll see !"
"But they're not one of 'em under forty,
and as plain as pike-staffs !" calculated
Floyd in dismay.
You'll find as that won't make no differ
ence," said Mrs. Akers, gloomily. "Thats
what she's got her eye on, as true as you're
alive, Floyd. And she never yet failed III
what she made up her mind to do"
While Mrs. Akers and Mr.. Floyd were en-
| gagged in this discussion of family affairs,
Mrs. Copman herself was cheerfully busting
about ordering the maids, tormenting the
footman, suggesting this, that and the other
thing to her three bony, high-cheeked
daughters, Marion, Arabeiia and Melicent--
until, suddenly CHANGING up, she CHANGED to
observe light figure, clad in a pretty pink
muslin, with floating white scarf, enter
the greenhouse door, across the garden.
She rang the bell, theoretically.
Floyd" said she, "who is that-that
person in the garden r.