The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1883-09-26
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Wednesday, Sept. %, 1883.
A DOUBLE TREACHERY.
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anu mamma nau Da1UlV Q0rpC
to speak. l could not help thinking wha
pity there was no one else to enjoy this
lovely place. George only comes occasion
ally, and then merely to dinner, and ht
goes away ;lle next morning with his "a
Their before | am up, for he has become
quite a man of business now. Well. yes.
terday grandpa suddenly turned to me
and said, abruptly. What has become 0.
that little Sylvan / should like to see
her here again You may imagine my
delight / have so much to tell you. SC
many things to show youl You will cheel
us up. dear and assure you we all need
it. There is not a creature here to talk to
and it is no good wearing pretty dresses
for there is no one to admire them. except
the cows. / amuse myself feeding the
chickens and ducks, but when you come
we shall amuse each other. The shooting
season will soon be here, and then George
and my father will stay longer, and it will
be more lively. Every one expects you
and am dying of impotence, SO you must
write at once and say what day we may
expect you. Mr.. Florence says you are
not at all well, and the air here will do you
aworld of good.
'.Your affectionate friend.
"ANNIE SPEED"
Her letter was finished, and Annie Speed
put on her wide brimmed straw hat, for
the August sun was very hot, and went
herself to place it in the little box ON the
LODGE gate, from which the postman would
remove it in the evening
No kindly breeze whispered in the girls
ear warning to prevent her sending that
fatal letter and she hurried back to the
house to prepare for Sylvia a pretty rooEl
next her own.
The letter reached its destination, al1iv-
ing in London the next morning, and was
duly delivered to Sylvia. What an event
it was! They all read il over and over
again, and for the next week it lay on the
chimney-piece with Mrs. Chips most pre-
cious relies of the past. 70 Sylvia it was
like some fairy charm, full Of enchantmert
and of promise. There was no talk of her
wedding now. Everyone was absorbed in
her outfit for Oaklands; every one was
busy cutting and sewing, while she was
forever occupied In trying ON her new
dresses.
Poor Frank. How all these prepara-
tions made his heart achel This visit
would postpone his marriage 1t was in
vain for him to attempt to oppose it, and
he saw Sylvia slipping each day, as it
were, from his grasp. Once at 0aklands,
1t was to the De Lacy's that the unhap-
by lover went with &is melancholy fore
bodings, and he never noticed how Dora,
as soon as he entered made place for
him at her workable, with eyes cast
down and flushed cheeks.
For several days the beetles and birds
had been laid aside. The mother and
daughter were embroidering some pale
pink founces for a dress of Sylvias. and
never had the lame girl sewed more dill
gently, for she inherited much of her fa-
theirs hopeful heart and powers of self
deception.
When Frank told her of his disappoint-
ment, and of his fears, Dora only thought
that, il Sylvia were once away, he would
fall into the habit of coming to her for
consolation. Perhaps, too, happy night
might come when, as they sat waiting for
''papa," Frank would realize the differ
ence between a woman who adored him
and one who merely permitted herself to
be adored.
Consequently the impotence she felt for
Sylvia's departure, lent to her needle such
extraordinary velocity that Frank watch
ed the ruffies and ruches piling up about
her with almost feeling of hatred; for
Sylvia's departure was only delayed until
the pink dress was finished When the
last stitch was taken Miss Chipp left for
Oaklands.
The house, built in the time of George
Ill, had an air of sombre magniicence.--
1t stood in the center of large park. and
the trees surrounding it We're very fine;
but the chief charm of the spot was the
river, to the brink of which the grounds
sloped on one side. Unfortunately, the
manners and appearance of the present
proprietor did not correspond with the
arstocratic air of the domain.
The wealthy tradesman, after buying
the estate from its impoverished owners,
cut down many of the trees ITO open a
view," and then built high wall to keep
was lavished on his vegetable garden
OF the drawing panelled with ex-
quisite paintings; of the lake. whitened
by water-lilies; of the grottoes and the
bridges, he thought nothing, save when
his guests went into ecstacies over them.
Advanced in years, he could neither shoot
nor fish, and he passed his time in super
intending the most petty details of his
enormous property. The grain with
which the poultry were fed, the number
Of bundles of straw piled in the barn,
served him to scold about for a long sum-
mers day Beholding from afar this
beautiful spot-the shining river and
green turf, the trees and howers--no one
would have suspected the meanness and
narrow mind of its owner.
Mr.. Gray lived there all the year round,
and the Speeds always spent the summer
with him. Mrs. Speed was of gentle
nature, but dull, and without cultivation,
inundated from childhood by her fathers
coarse and harsh disposition. She was
afraid, too of her husband, whose good
ness and constant indulgence had never
succeeded in winning the entire confidence
of his wife. Having always been kept in
complete ignorance of business matters,
they had grown rich almost without her
knowledge, and without the smallest de-
sire on her part to profit by it.
Her handsomely furnished rooms in
town, and her fathers house, were equal
ly burdensome TO her. She always gath
cred her skirts about her closely, and
made it a study to take up as little space
as possible. She had but one passion, one
pursuit in life-cleanliness and order; and
she brushed and busted, polished and
rubbed, everything that she could get
hold Of
When she could find nothing else to
clean, this singular woman took out her
rings and her chains, rubbed down her
ShiHSOc, dilu iOeScHth ncT JcWclS liDHi
their settings. AT Oakland She amused
herself by picking up the twigs in the av-
enue, by digging out the moss between
the stones with the point of her umbrella,
and would have liked to dust the very
leaves on the trees.
Mr.. Speed had no attachment for Oak
lands, and only Annie loved the beautiful
park. She knew every corner, and had
her favorite walk. her own tree, under the
shade of which she read or worked. She
spent the whole day out of doors, and only
went into the house when summoned by a
bell to her meals. In the folds Of her
dress fingered the freshness of the sum
mer's day, and her soft limpid eyes seemed
to have borrowed their clearness from the
peaceful lake near which she had wan
dered in solitude.
The beauty Of the place elevated her
thoughts above the vulgar routine Of the
day. Her grandfather might fret and
fume before her for hours together; he
might tell her anecdotes of the duphcity
and Incidence Of the servants and the
tradespeople; her mother might enumer-