The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1882-01-19

removes the dlSheS, tnat the COUSIN nus
come. The driver made mistake and
stopped at our door instead of Mr.. Gard
ner's. And very nice appearing young
man he is, too, one of those young men
who look as though they would make
good husbands and excellent providers,
and chances askance at my papers, pens
and ink, for as 1 had already discovered
the worthy old soul shared Emerson's
opinions on the subject, and gravely
doubted the capability of writers and
artists and people of that ilk, in regard
to their taking care of themselves, and
had no doubt at all as to their utter
incapacity of taking care of any one
else.
Breakfast over went to work again
that is, 1 tried to go to work, but my
efforts were in vain. "Annie Laurie"
kept running in my head, and so
iumbled my historical facts and the
words of the sweet Scotch song
together in such wild confusion
that at last 1 gave up is despair, and,
pushing my writing materials away, L
determined to refresh my eye and brain
by taking "A look at my neighbours beau
tiful garden.
As peeped between the blinds Bub
came tearing like mad, ran around the
grape arbor three times, snapped at
wee grasshopper, jumped over the low
communication to Sis, who was grazing
there, and got back in time to meet the
two people who came saunterihg up the
garden walk.
Milicent and the cousin, a tall, slim,
sharp-faced passably good-looking
Young fellow, with his hair carefully
parted i'll the middle. blue necktie and
faultless summer suit.
glanced in the mirror at my own OBJ
stinate, curly, brown crop, that refused
to be parted anywhere-my cravatted
neck. and my well-worn blue flannel and
began to hate him. Milicent walked
beside him, her fair head dropping and
smile upon her lips. She was dressed
in white and had u pink rose clinging to
her soft curls, and one in her bosom land
a bunch of half-open buds at her belt, and
she plucked another from the vine and
| fastened it with her own pretty hands in
the button hole of her cousins immacu-
| late coat.
From that moment / hated him, and
| from that moment my work ceased to
progress, and L took to walking up and
down my rooms i'll the daytime, and
s.rolling about the garden half the night.
In few davs-they seemed like years
to me-Mr. Chester, the housekeeper
had called him, went away again.
/ blessed the driver, the horses, the
very carriage that took him back to the
town, for You have guessed it, sup
pose-was wildly in love with my neigh
boris fair-haired niece.
Well, one night was swinging in the
hammock that hung in the midst OF the
group of old apple trees, swinging and
| thinking of her, when gradually ceased
dreaming and thinking and wandered
into the land of dreams. And voice.
sweet, familiar voice, followed me there,
and heard it say, But auntie, do not
love my cousin; and why should a
woman ever marry a man she does not
lovew
"No, by heaven, mol" shouted, and
sprang from the hammock, still half
asleep.
Two shrieks, a scamper, loud bark,
and my neighbours garden was deserted.
| Early the next morning l heard Mr..
Gardner loudly and angrily questioning
the old housekeeper.
wished to remain in hiding, did hel'
he shouted-"oh! so as to write undis-
turbed?" And then sarcastically, ''that's
a very pretty story, but slightly improb-
able, and very pretty young man lis
tening-the spy-to the conversation OF
two ladies', and rudely joining in with
voice of thunder, soaring them nearl y
out of their senses. Where is he-this
retiring young man? This exclusive
author? By heaven! if he does not come
out to me will go in to him!"
l rushed down stairs and confronted
him at his own gate, my eyes flashing
and my voice trembling with passion.
81 am no listener. no spy" said l. II
was sleeping in my hammock and was
| suddenly awakened by very emphatic
question Annie Lau-that is Mill
mean your niece-asked her companion.
In the confusion of the moment an
swered the question as emphatically as it
was asked. If have frightened or Of
Tended the young lady humbly ask her
pardon, but warn you, sir, to call me
no more opprobrious names.
Milicent came out on the porch and
glanced at me shyly. "He doesn't look
very wicked, uncle" she said, in low
voice, and Il CLEAN of mischief in her big
eyes, "and l firmly believe what ne says
and freely forgive him for the fright he
gave me-"
bowed and turned away, and a mo-
ment later heard a ripping laugh, and
| than in a f.w &,putass mora tho varse of