The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1883-10-24
CHAPTER XIV.

/
4 How happy Dora was in those days.
Frank came regularly every evening, and
he rarely mentioned Sylvia.
In the morning, as soon as she was
seated at her own work, gentle tap came
TO the door.
"Good-morning, little Zizi," for so now
he always called her.
In the evening they waited together for
the old actor; and, while she worked, he
told her of the strange Eastern country
which was to be her future home.
"What is it, my dear, that he has walked
Won up sol said her mother; for the lame
| girl, instead of sitting all day long, as had
been her habit, now moved up and down
the room, held herself very erect, and
asked If ii showed when she was not
walking.
Her simple dress was now rarely with
out knot of dainty ribbon, and her beau
tiful hair was arranged most becomingly.
Everyone noticed the change, and even
her birds and beetles had an entirely diff
ferent air.
Yes, the young girl was very happy.
For some days Frank had talked of an
excursion into the country and as epapa,"
| always good, always generous, made no
objection, they started carly on Sunday
morning.
You may imagine the anxiety with which
Dora retired the night before. When the
| girl opened her window at six o'clock, and
| saw the sweetness and freshness of the
morning, and of the trees, the fields, the
/ flowers. that she had not seen for SO long,
i and that she was to behold that day
/ again on the arm of the person dearest to
| her in the world. tears filed her eyes.
/ The evening before, Frank had brought
/ her dainty silk umbrella with an iyay
/ handle; and the girl had carefully ar
ranged every detail of her simple costume.
The result was altogether charming.
At nine o'clock exactly Frank appeared
in a carriage. He sprang lightly up the
stairs to summon his guests. Dora came
down without any assistance save that OF
the railing. Mrs. De Lacy followed close
behind watching her daughter carefully.
We're De Lacy himself, new overcoat
folded ON his arm, stood at the carriage
door.
What a delightful drive that was The |
pure air, the waving trees, and brilliant |
flowers filed the girls heart with joy Do
not asked were they went. Dora never
knew. She could only have told you that
no sun ever shone so brightly, no birds T
ever sang so sweetly, as those she heard |
that day. When she was much younger /
she had had an occasional day of country I
pleasure; but, as she grew older, ever-in- T
creasing pain aggravated by motion, the I
necessity of economising every moment as
well as every penny, held her by invisible T
bonds to the parish inhabited by her t
parents. Distant roofs, and the red bricks T
of the Speeds mandatory, bounded her T
horizon but the girl was not discontinued. T
Therefore, for some time she had seen no I
flowers, save those that grew in pots on T
her window-sill; no trees save the acacias +
in the Speeds garden.
What joy swelled her heart as she t
looked on the beautiful turf beiewelled T
with tiny fiowersl She clasped her hands /
in child-hke ecstasy Frank kept near
her, ready to aid her at every turn; and |
this wonderful day passed like heavenly +
vision. The great blue sky seemed to +
float above the green branches; the mar
row glades with perhaps CLEAN of the /
horizon in the distance, looked as if they t
led to fairyland.
Towards evening, when the sun was /
setting, and she saw the long lines of
tremulous lights ON the river, and far
away thick fog-like mass of roofs and
steeples, and was told that there lay Lon
don, she cast one look at the lovely scene
about her, and laid away in her memory
the hawthorn-scentedl landscape, as if new
er, never should she see it again.
The flowers that the young girl brought
back with her perftiIned her room for
days. The cowslips and violets. the pink
and white may, were mingled with
crowd of smaller flowers, Of which the
very names were unknown to her.
In looking at them, how many times
did little Dora live over again each oc-
cu1rence of that memorable day. The
violets reminded her of the bed of moss
where she had found them, and where,
kneeling by Franks side, she had gather
ed them. AS she thought she worked,
and CLEAN of sunshine coming through [
the window touched the breasts of the
humming- birds on the table and trans
formed their tiny feathers to glittering
jewels. Spring and youth, hope and love, /
glorifed this poor little attic high up in
the air
Frank was now equally happy. Dora,
by degrees had won his heart completely.
Even the remembrance of Sylvia, he
fancied, had disappeared. He had never
gone to Richmond again. ''Come home
with me- his brother would say; "Syl-
via insists upon your dining with us to-
day"
But Frank pretended to be full of bust
ness, and Florence easily accepted this
| excuse.
Every time Frank left his brothers Of
flee, he was intercepted by old Job with
his pen behind his ear. He kept the young
man informed of all that went on.
"George" he said ''came regular to his
office, and went back to Oaklands every
night. No more bills had been presented
to him for payment
"You see,' said the cashier triumphant
| ly, II was quite right in sending for you
to come home; but, all the same, feel as
! if we were all upon the brink of u preci-
| pice.'
"Have no fear" answered the engineer.
II am on the lookout
'.lou will be here for some time longer,
| / hopei" asked the old man anxiously.
mot for long But have matter Of
the highest Importance to arrange before
l GO
This matter was Franks marriage to
Dora. lie had spoken of it to no one, not
/ even to her, but the little girl had no
doubts, evidently, for she was happy and
1 gay as a lark.
They were alone one Sunday afternoon.
Mrs. Chipp De Lacy had just gone out,
carefully dressed, proud and happy to
show herself ON her husbands arm. Frank
had look of suppressed excitement, and
from the very way in which he drew his
chair near her sofa, Dora understood that
he was about to say something of import
ance. Their conversation by indifferent
| phrases; then came long silence. At
this moment gentle tap at the door was
heard.
.sCome in," said Dora impatiently; and
Sylvia appeared, beautifully dressed,
smiling and gracious. She had just run
in for a moment to see her little Dora
The presence of her brother-in- law
seemed to astonish her greatly; but amid
her coaxing words to her friend, he had
neither eyes nor ears for him. After
time. however, she asked to see the
window on the staircase, and the room
where the brother had lived. at pleased
her." she said, half sadly, ito recall those
days OF her youth"
do you remember, Frank, when the
princess came to call on you, wearing on
! her little head diadem OF feathers n
Frank did not reply; he was too dis
) turbed. Something told him that this
woman had come there for him alone !;
that she wished to fascinate and intoxi-
A. L n l.. H4lA ~ .