The Baltimore County union., 1882-12-16
A SHARP DODGE.
FLORENCE u. HoLI.GwELI..


The morning was cool and clear the
birds sang and twittered in the branches
of the elm trees agentle breeze waited
the scent of the June roses in at the
open windows and Lydia Grey, feeling
singularly happy and content with life,
went singing down stairs and into the
kitchen, where her mother sat by the
table, pecling potatoes, to fry for break
fast.
Mrs. Grey did not speak as her daugh.
ter entered, and Lydia. made wise by ex-
pericnce. saw by the expression Of her
face that storm was coming. She con-
tinued to sing, however, feeling prepared
to meet the blast, no matter how severe
il might be.
Mrs. Grey waited until the breakfast
was on the table before she uttered a
word. Then, as she took her seat be.
hind the coaee-pot, she asked, sharply:
Lydia, did | see you hanging over
the front gate, at eleven O'Clock last
night, with John Forsythe ?"
al don't know, mother" answered
Lydia, calmly. "You might have seer
me, though if you had looked. wa
there"
"And not ashamed to confess it,
s'pose ?"
"Not at all ashamed to confess it,
said Lydia.
"If you suppose that I'll ever gi,c Ia,
consent to your marrying John Forsythe,
you're mistaken, said Mrs. Grey; "and
the sooner you send him packin', the
better I'll be pleased. The man who
marries you must be able to give you a
good home as this. You shan't throw
yourself away on poverty-stricken dis
trict school teacher, il can help it,
I'll allow he's good-looking, but goot
looks won't make the pot boil"
Lydia's face flushed.
"John is an orphan" she said, "ant
has had his own way to make. honol
him for his struggles to get an educa
tion. He may not have any money
but he's worth more in my eyes thar
any other man I've ever seen," and sh,
buttered a hot roll with considerabl,
energy.
"Seems TO me you stand up for hin
pretty earnest" said the widow, will
a grim smile. "But | don't calc'lat,
you're quite so foolish as to throw Sctl
Naylor over just yet"
"Scth Naylor !" calculated Lydia il
4 tone of contempt. al let him know
my mind long ago /"
"But you could get him back cas-,
'nough," said Mrs. Grey. "He'd nee,
only word to make him come flyin
over here. He's sensible an shrewd
and you might go further and far
worse"
"Pcrhaps," said Lydia.
"And il do strike me" said the widow
"that man who goes about filling hi
pockets with stones and dirt, and lie
for hours on a rock, staring at il, mus
have a soft spot in his head some
where"
"John is intensely interested in ore
and Minerals" said Lydia; "and if h
finds pleasure in examining rocks an,
picking up stones, why should we oil
ject1 II is harmless amusement, Gel
tainly."
can imbecilc amusement" said Mr..
Grey. al wonder at a girl Of you
sense upholdin' scch folly. But IT,
plain to be seen that he's turned you
head with that big yellow moustache Q
his. You ought to be thankful ths
you've got mother to look out for you
You'll never marry John Forsythe wit
my consent"
"Perhaps not" said Lydia, risin
from the table, 'and I'll never MARI
Seth Naylor with my own"
"We'll see about that" said the wild
ow, rs she took the skinner and bi
pail and started for the dairy. "I c,
pect to see you the mistress Of Glover
top Farm yet"
Lydia smiled to herself, thinking ho'
unlikely it was that such thing woul
ever come to pass. She loved Joh
Forsythe too we'll to give single though
to marrying any other man. And Set
Naylor, rough, uneducated fellow
who was thoroughly uncongenial to he
what a contrast he was to John
| The hanging over the front gate con
tinued to be OF nightly occurrence, i
spite Of the wrath and chagrin Of Mr..
Grey, who appealed in vain to Lydia
dccorum.
"The whole neighborhood will
talking about you, next" the mothe
said.
"I've grown callous to what the pee
pie Of this neighborhood say, mother,
answered Lydia. "rhey can talk {
they choose. 1t is too warm to sit II
doors, these June evenings, even if yo
would let me entertain John in the pa
lor, which you won't. And that gal
was made to hang on"
"Hang away, then I" said Mrs. Gre,
"But you shan't marry John Forsyth
i'll can help it Why, he wasted Ii
hull O. last Saturday, pokin' round m
three-acre medder-lot with spade.
guess he got half a bushel O. stuns. :
1 Haf1 S..-La.- IL. u..a A. 81