Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1884-11-26
LILY's LOVERS.
BY ALFRED CRAYON.

"No," Numbered a mans voice.
Pretty Lilly Boscobel looked fright
ened.
She was fragile and timid, with long
lashed blue eyes and soft, curling, pale
brown hair. Very much less OF vehe-
ment denial would have suficed to
drive the little creature discouraged
from her fathers presence; but so great
was his anger that even this explosive
monosyllable was not enough to express
his excitement.
"You will not go near the Wyldes, if
Kate Wylde sends for you every hour
but you meet Launt Winslow there,
and-and 1 have other plans for you.
Don't deny It'll" Eyeing sharply the
wide blue eyes. quickly appraised.
Deny it, father? Why should II"
Peter Boscobel frowned and stopped.
There was something in the fair child
like face which quieted his excitement.
did not say you cared anything
about him, but have heard. It is
enough that I say you cannot go!"
abruptly.
Lily silently left the room, q submits
sive little figure in lilac dress, so deli
cate and frail little figure that the
mans heart smote him as he looked
after her.
1t was only two years since Lily's
mother had died, and she was exceed
ingly like her mother.
You can go anywhere else, Lily" he
called after her more kindly.
T,f1u want hooLx 70 &bo ,,or1or oyI
tried bravely to continue her practic-
ing; but after few minutes, the small
fingers faltered from their task, and the
fair head dropped upon the folded arm,
while the great tears, bravely kept back
SO long, splasLed upon the piano keys.
Peter Boscobel would have stoutly
denied that he did not love his daugh-
ter; but since his love seemed never to
temper his sternness, what did it matter
to that tender spirit that she was secret
~ his idol?
Unfortunately, his was one of those
exceptional natures which do not know
how to show love. His child, who was
his heiress and the object of his LIES
ambition, starved and persisted daily
for realization of affection.
Never in her life, she remembered,
had her father bestowed upon her q
caress. No other want was left unsatis-
fed; every accomplishment was be-
slowed upon her. She lived in luxury;
but, SO exacting his nature, so stern his
manner, this man had ever extended a
slavery of force over the sole daughter
OF his house and heart.
But that he was her father, and, ap-
warranty tho solo Of hop Fo&
she would never have spoken to him.
So many, many times, when he did not
dream of it, he had nearly broken her
heart.
It was not her disappointment she
was crying for now-though, in her
loneliness, shelhad longed for the visit to
the pleasant Wyldes-but that she had
been treated as rebel, and her inno-
cent request met with harshness which
she felt had no cause.
But by and by her tears dried with a
secondary thought-Launt Winslow.
Why should her father care that she
did meet him there?
He was Kate Wylde's cousin-had
been brought up with her. He was Col.
Wylde's favorite nephew. He was a
gentleman. She was sure, in girlish
phraseology, that he was "nice" What
gentle ways he had! What a mellow
voice to sing with.
What a responsive thrill Kate's
hearty delight that he was not going to
Florida for the winter had awakened in
her heart.
All at once her fathers meaning
came to her. The scarlet blood surged
to her temples, and she caught her
breath. Handsome Launt Winslow
choose her for sweetheart She had
never dreamed of such thing.
But now she started up nervously,
and began wandering restlessly about
the room, touching things absently and
ainlessly, the young cheek flushing and
paling by turns.
Had she cared to go to the Wyldes
because Launt Winslow was there?
She was fain to deny it, but the sudden
voice of her heart held her spell-bound
and in maidenly fear.
Poor, lonely little Lily! This expe-
rience had found her out very early.
She was but seventeen, and modesty
Itself. 1t was not In her to arrogate to |
herself any importance as Peter Bcs-
cObePs helress; and she did not know
how lovely she was with her forget-me-
not eyes and simple sweetness.
Launt Winslow was no youngster,
but, at twenty-seven, a man of the |
world, and, unconsciously, her hero.
She did not dream that he had OMEN
Iy expressed his admiration for her, and
that it had reached her fathers ears.
But, to do Launt Winslow justice, he