The Washington critic. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1885-1888, 1885-05-11

be buried in its foundations. Never
mind, i am ready for the worst. if need
be. A working man like myself should
find belpmeet In a working mans
daughter Labor, labor, labor-that is the
one glorious, manly womanly business of
life"
~ admire your courage" said DIagnus
Ericsson, "but | trenible for tho conse-
quences though, whatever you do, 1t will
make no difference between u.s."
Come and see her, and judge for your
SELF" cried the impulsivc Knox. The
brown FLY Is worth looking at and will
bear criticism-no weak points anywhere
sound in wind and limb--a little skittish it
may be, but none the worse for that-will
make the running all the better nicely
groomcd and admirably trained up to cor
tain point, but that only the first step.
Let's adjourn to the stables
No sooner said than done. Aud Off they
went at rapid rate ontof York street aud
through Baker street, into little quiet
by.road which lay modestly by the side
of the big thoronghfare, as private occu-
patton moves shyly in the shadow by the
side of public Office, with its great glare
and restless strife. The houses were un-
pretending, or wcro inhabited by respecta.
BILE artisans and members of the labOrng
class. An occasional brass plate gave an air
street, which was somewhat obscured by
the absence Of anything approaching to
serious competition Knox Fraser, who
had not opened his mouth the whole way,
stopped abruptly at weather beaten
door, that boosted Of no metal decoration.
and knocked sharply four times. There
was Immediately sweet rustiing within, rs
Of a iluttered dove.cote. then tripping of
lghtsomc feet tho sound of soft, low, girlish
al las nd In avN
stood face to face with "the brown Glly."
The look of expoctant happiness in the
large liquid eyes passed into a startled OK
|. preston rs "Buttercup' confronted tho
stranger while she took Fraser's hand with
the calm assurance of proprietorship. She
was dressed neatly and simply in dress of
some dark material, which fitted like a
glove the exquisite symmetry Of her fault
less form. Tall and slight, and yet rather
plump than lean, she seemed an ethereal
arrangement, in brown, the study of some
mighty painter who had dipped his brush
in tine tender glories of the twilight. The
rich, red lips pouted now and theu like
those of "A pretty, pctted child, and delicate
waves OF color rippled over the round aud
dimpled cheeks. Masses of dark hair, lit
mp here and there with strange CLEANS of
gold, as if the Mexican frefies were tangled
and spangled in the heaped-up tresses,
crowned the fresh innocence OF an almost
baby beauty. And the voice was mix
ture of Edgar Poe's silver bells and Cole
ridges brook singing quiet tune, with q
delicious purity all its own. And yet-and
yet there WAS something wanting. What
could il be? OF intelligence and sympathy
there appeared to be liberal measure, but
the eye and the ear seemed to miss some
thing. The rronunciatons was good, the
answers ready aud often amusing, the
apprehension quick, the polteness quite
that of lady to the manner born, tho
movements elegant and unre,trained, bat
still stitch in the lovely work was dropped,
link gone, a note absent. What was il?
Ericsson thought of Undine and the fawn
and wondered if "Buttercup' really pos.
sessed that very troublesome property,
which is supposed by certain philosophers
to reside In tho pineal gland, generally
called the soul. Or could it be the presence
of some foreign element, that disturbed
and dimmed the radiant and rejoicing
young life? And yet, in the society of that
enchanting child-woman, that Divine
daughter of the earth, the misgiv wings and
suspicious soon melted away like snow be-
meath an April sun.