The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1882-11-29
SHE STOPPED TO CONQUER.

your sisters"
Blandford Avon asked the question with
the air of being aroused little out of his
usual carelessness, as he lounged in ham,
mock on the lawn at Rosewood, while Mary
Vennor arranged the flowers she had gath
cred on rustic seat. She massed her pinks
and scarlets carefully as she answered quiet.
~, with smile 81
Her name is Dorothy, but we could not
call her that, you know"
No." Mr.. Avon aasented, watching the
sprightly little figure upon the croquet ground.
$50 she is Dorette," continued Mary,
and my only sister"
"she is very pretty, but not in the least
like you"
Mary's oval cheek tlnged little OF the inn
piled compliment. She tied up one bouquet,
and commenced making another.
By and by Blandford Avon slipped out of
the hammock, and sauntered toward the Gro.
quet ground. Mary went on sorting her
roses, though she looked after him moment
attentively. All the air was entrancingly
with the fragrance of the wild-rose vines
climbing the trees. The sky was dome of
lapis idsuG above the green gloom of the
shrubbery. Mary's dress of lustrous gray
silk swept the short emerald grass dotted
with daisies. She wore necklace of rubies;
there were ruby pendants in her pretty ears.
In short, she was very elegant and beauti-
full girl, and this was her twenty-frst birth
day. She remembered it, and recolleeted
that little blonde Dorette was "sweet six
teen." By and by Blandford Avon came
sauntering back.
"I went to see whether her eyes were
blue or gray" he explained. soberly.
~ could have told you,' laughed Mary,
land saved you some tronblen
az preferred to satisfy myself They are
gray"
"While her lashes are dark and her hair
is golden. Dorette is an unusual combine
tion," remarked Miss vennor, while Bland
lay down in the hammock again. A little
maid came and took away the flowers her
mistress had arranged for the table, and Miss
vennor was quite at liberty to chat with her
lover until the bell rung
Her lover--yes; she was beginning to
admit the word. There could be no mistak-
ing BANDS graceful devotion. Mary had
had hosts of admirers, but none so entirely
agreeable as this thoroughbred man Of
wealth and leisure, the son of her fathers
old friend, who had come for the first time
to Rosewood At his arrival Dorette had
been in town on visit. At the end of a
month she came home, and Bland saw her
first that day upon the croquot ground
lie had the reputation of being exceeding
ly fastidious. Mary had heard him say that
he was not fond of "bread-and-butter
schoolgirls but Dorette was different from
most very young ghls. She had dignity,
self-poise, graciousness-when she chose to
be gracious. No, Dorette did not lack any
of the charms of pretty woman, even at
sweet sixteen, for the very reason, perhaps,
that she lacked great tenderness and sympa-
Thy, which would have made her more SEN
sitive to others. She was fair cool, and sell
fish. Being what she was, Mary soon saw
that she commanded her lovers attention
He invited Dorette to join their drives he
played and sung with her. He danced with
her when they made picnic in the wooks,
though Mary had not known before that he
did dance
Alary's delicate brow curved in q frown.
Ever siuce they were children together Dor
cite had taken her treasure away. She, the
younger, was the stronger. For Mary to
yield to DoIette had become habi.ual. But
now--for she was evidently pleased with
Blandford Avon-should Dorettt possess
herself of her lover?
No one else suits me do not care for
the young men about town whom Tom
brings home, and with every one of whom
Dorette flirts. Blandford Avon is gentle
mani have been proud of his preference,
and happy in it. Must give him up to her
milky shoulders and golden hair? No, it is
not right for he wonld not love her if he
knew how selfish she was"
She was as unhappy as so good girl
could well be. Day by day she saw plainly
that Dorettc, with her glowing beauty, her
exquisite toilets, her high spirits, was using
every coquettish art to draw him from her;
and Bland was unconsciously drawn. Hard
y an hour passed that he was not drawn
from her side to the others, If only momen-
tarily Mary kept smiling face, but said,
bitterly, 70 herself, "She viii win him."
"What an utterly perfect creature your
sister is. Mnry!" he said TO ler. Z" From
boy have worshped beauty. She is all
gold and snow and rose-color, like flower"
Yes, thatwas Dorette's chm .m-the beauty,
which exercised q perfect spell over his
artistic tastes. 1t had Just bloomed in fresh
perfection. Yet Mar, surveying her cool,
pale, oval face and br ,wn satin braids in the
mirror of her dressing case, felt that she,
100, had pleased the artists eye Certainly
heir glance said so when she wore dress
hat suited him, or ribbon of his favorite
color. Though his regard had warmed for
Dorette, she could not yet say that it had
cooled for her. She but apprehended de-
Eertion.
81 delight in beauty my wife shall be
kept like flower" remarked Bland, one
day, his pleased gaze sweeping the costumes
of the two girls as they came down to dinner
one afternoon in fresh summer toilets.
Mary's dress of pale pearl colored silk was
close-ftting TO her slender shape, its pale
tint rendered purer by knots of rose-colored
ribbon, while Dorette wore an azrre tissue
like q cloud
But that was before the cook left
Miss Bridget Mahoney, who was tie
smartest of cooks, and had given the Ven.
nors satisfaction for three years, suddenly
failed in her allegiance, and on one of the
hottest of July days was missing from her
post. Mrs. Vennor had sick-headache, and
could not leave her chamber. Mr.. vennor
would be home to dinner with Bland'sfather,
Judge Avon. There was no help in the
house but little Sallie, who was but twelve
years old
Mary and Dorette looked at each other in
CONSERVATION.
"We must get dinner" said Mary.
alon