Nebraska advertiser., 1882-01-19

| ultncult at tunes. AS To Victor, he
never seemed to heed Bridget at all A
shrug of the shoulders, or, at most, a
glance of unutterable disdain, was the
utmost notice that he took of her.
The day after the Thanksgiving din
ner my aunt came to my room, where /
was resting, after the packing of the
silver.
"Only think, Lizzie. she said, "here
has Bridget gone and fallen i'll to-day,
of all the days in the year, when, as you
know, Sarah and Susan have both gone
down to New York to be present at their
sisters wedding. There isn't soul in
the house to do anything except Vic.
tor"
Bridget illP Why, what can be the
matterP'
Goodness knows, child. She was as
well as possible this morning; but just
now she came to me and said that she
had such a whirlng in her head, and
such a trimlin' in her legs that she just
had to go up TO her room and lie down
1t seems that Victor, who is good soul,
thought her looking rather badly this
morning, and gave her some of his
prime Swiss bitters; but since taking
the dose she has gotten rather worse
than better"
just then Victor's discreet tap was
heard at the door; and on being hidden
to come in he entered, civil and obse-
| quious as usual.
"If madame will permit me-" he
said, ~ will take charge of all things
for day or two. The maids will be
back tomorrow evening; and rs for
mistress Bridget, she has but a migrdine
"a sickness of the bile; she will be all
right in a day or two. If madame will
tell me what she would like for dinner
shall get it ready for her."
"Oh, thanks, thanks" said my aunt.
81 really didn't like to ask you; but
since you offer"
"With pleasure" retorted Victor.
And now | will go and see about din
| ner.h
The short balance of the afternoon
we spent in the library together over
the fire. confess that | nodded more
than once over my book; for was tired
with the days work, and | suspect that
my aunt was just as bad. Anyway, it
was something of a surprise to us both
when we were summoned TO dress for
| t'liIICl ~ CCiClioli1 thbO num- MUG
grove seldom or never omitted, but
which she seemed inclined to shirk for
once on that particular evening.
81 shall not go upstairs, think.
No, Victor, you need not take light to
my dressing-room. You can come and
call me whenever dinner is ready"
We reopened our novels again; and
was speedily absorbed in mine. But
my aunt began to fidget, being now
thoroughly aroused from her drowsi-
ness; and at last she declared that she
must 90 upstairs and wash her hands,
and put on u clean collar and cuffs, if
she did nothing more.
"No need for your disturbing your
self, child" she added.
"Shall l call Victor to bring you a
light, auntP''
"No. l always keep candle and
off she went, with as light and active a
step as though her years had been six
teen instead of over sixty.
She was gone for some little time. III
fact, dinner was announced, and the
soup was waiting to be put on the table
when she came hurrying into the dining
| room.
"Br-r-r-r," she said, with a shiver,
rubbing her hands together as she
spoke, "how cold it is in my dressing
room. One feels it the more after sit
ting so long over that nice, warm fire,
in the library. 1 hope that the soup is
quite hot. | declare, am half frozen"
She really seemed so. could see
that n shudder, now and then, passed
over her, as though she were shaken by
some inexpressibe chill. The soup,
however, seemed to reanimate her, and
she soon chatted away in as lively Il
strain as usual.
Victor had achieved wonders in re-
gard to the dinner. A delicious, clear
soup, some cold salmon with mayon-
naise sauce, and delicate salmi of
chicken, with truffles, succeeded each
other in turn, and We're warmly praised,
especially by my aunt. When the meal
was about half concluded my aunt said,
suddenly, laying down her fork:
Il declare, | had almost forgotten
about my letter, Lizzie. You have
heard me speak of my niece, Caroline
West-my sister Margarets daughter
who lives in Albany-the Queen of Dia-
monds, as / used to call her?'
Eyes, aunt, often"
"Wen, D." continued my aunt, drawing
letter bearing the Albany postmark,
from her pocket, "when | went up
stairs, just now, chancedto remember
that Bridget had brought me up two
letters this morning, and that | had put
them in the pocket ofmy dressing-gown
without reading them. Afterwards,
was so busy with the silver, and flus-
tered by her illness, that forgot them.
| happened to think of them while up
stairs, and it is well that did, for Car