The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1884-05-08

nothlng Detter TO ouer them than thi
ever-recurring routine of domestic an
religious duty.
But Lucy had listened from her ear
lest remembrance whenever the neigh
bors talked about "Thornhill Hail, a
most OF them called the great house OF
the hill.
| She had never entered its doors, We
she understood perfectly how different
ly existence went on there. She knew
all about the magnificent carpets anC
furniture, the curtains over the grea
bay windows sweeping TO the floor
velvet for the winter months, costly
lace lined with rose-color for the sum.
mer
She had heard of the marble statues,
the costly chandeliers, the grand circu-
lar staircase that went up and around
to the very roof, the stained-glass win
dows on every landing.
Miss Thornhilfs imported toilettes
all aglow with color, might be seen by
anyone who chose to be in the ono
street of Saltfsh when the baroucho-
landau rolled slowly by.
As for the greenhouses, lighthouses,
and forcing-pits, was not the hill at
Thornfeld all one glitter in the sun
shine every day with the acres of
glass" over which MeCleary, the
Scotch gardener, presided?
The poor little Friend looked sadly
out through the summer from her drab
colored life upon this luxury and splen-
dor, longing to share it, but only be-
cause it all belonged to George"
Her head and heart were full of her
betrothed, and she so seldom saw him
now, except for few brief moments
in the presence of her mother. before
whom they were both naturally tongue
tied and abashed.
She saw how these restraints annoy.
ed and worried him, and she did not
wonder that he came less often when,
in the bright midsummer, his sister
filed the great house with her own
friends-bright young bales from the
city, before whose gay and fashionable
presence Lucy shrank away timid and
afraid
George Thornhill was forcea to play
the host to all these fair guests, he told
her, when he came to excuse his alb
sence. She acquiesced; and she heard
OF the riding and driving parties, the
sails upon the lake, and the strolls by |
moonlight, with perfect eomposure, |
until the gossip of the neighborhood |
assigned one of these fair bellies to
George Thornhill, and to him alone.
Then Lucy grew jealous. She said
nothing, but she took an opportunity
one pleasant afternoon of watching the
return of the equestrians on side road
leading from her house to Thornhill
Hall.
Yes! There they were, precisely as
people had said. George, her own
George no longer, perhaps, was riding
at the bridle-rein OF the beautiful Miss
Kate Ilford
He did not even see Lucy as they
passed by, though she stood gazing
sadly at him under dropping elm by the
waySide. But Miss Ilford, gorgeous
Egyptian princess that she was, saw
and evidently recognized her rival.
Such scornfully triumphant glance
as she cast on her, utterly ignoring the
pale and perfect loneliness Of her face,
but taking in each detail of her I'M
fashionable attire-lingering over it
with that air of plying wonder with
which one woman knows so we'll how
to crush another.
Nor was this all. AS Lucy shrank
back under the dropping branches of
the elms, ashamed of herself, and still
more ashamed of her Quaker garb,
second lady, more proud and imperi-
Ous, but not so young or handsome as
Miss Ilford, reined her horse up by the
girls side.
You can see for yourself, Lucy
gray, where my brothers heart is Civ
en- she said harshly, "He loves Kate
llford with all his soul, but he is a
maa of honor, and he will never tell
her so unless you set him free And
that, she added scornfully, "you will
never do, suppose. You will not lose
the chance of marrying the richest
man in the State. But | shall hate
you, always! Never will l call you
SlSLeI, TcueluUeT lHdI. anu WNen |
you enter Georges home | leave it. |
will countenance no low born beggar
as my brothers wife!'
Meek as was Lucy, by nature and by
her cheeks flushed crimson,
and her dark eyes flashed fire at this
taunt.
81 am no beggar, Miss Thornhill,"
she said hotly. "And if your brother
loves another, not for the world would
| be his wife"
Tell him SC" said Miss Thornhill
eagerly. Write it to him this very
day, and see how gladly he will be free
from YOU
81 will, said Lucy proudly,
And she went home and wrote the
letter.
The next day she lay in brain
fever, and her mother, guessing the
state of the case from her rawlings, re-
fused to let George Thornhill see her,
when he rode down to the farm.
Six weeks afterwards, when Lucy |
was able to sit up by the open window
once more, her mother told her, pity
ingly, of that visit from her lover
"W here is he nOWpN asked Iucv