The Penn's Grove record., 1885-01-17

me.
He was quieter now. lie answered,
stroking my hair
"As beautiful as my sister Lucy, and
as good. THERE needn't praise her
more than that. But l want you to do
something for me. She is young-yery
Young 4; and l want you to know her,
TO be her best friend, for my sake, and
TO give her some OF that dear old-fash.
Toned steadiness that l love so well.
Will you do this for me, Lucyr"
1 will not pretend that [ was glad l
will not even say that | answered Will
lingly. But l owed him more than that:
SO | murmured at last
'tI will try. Who Ia she ?"
He seemed relieved by my promise.
Didn't I tell you ?" he said gaily.
s.Queenie Goodwin. You don't know
her /; she came back from Germany only
a month ago. ! knew her before size
went. She was a chit then. You VIII
be great friends, l know. No one could
help loving Queenie."
''Here is aunt Maryi" 1 broke in
gladly, as Mrs. Payne came in sight.
And we hurried forward to meet her.
We three walked back together. BY
this time the stars were out overhead
and the ground was dark with shadow.
| was so busy trying to fancy what
Queenie Goodwin was like that L did not
listen to them talking, till Richard said:
"NYhat does little wisdom say Let
us hear her."
confessed my inattention 80 Rich
ard explained.
you must know" he said, in his
quiet kind way, that my father was
once in great trouble. 1t was a matter
of ruin. A friend saved him by the
sacrifice of himself. This mans name
all honor to twas Templeton. His
son is now in trouble; l am afraid there
is some disgrace attaching TO the affair.
But my good mother wants to offer him
an asylum with us until the trouble in
Madrid-where he held some business
appointment-has blown owe Now
yes know. Lucy, you are one OF us (;
you have a voice in the matter. 1t is
a very grave thing to bring into a house.
hold a man who has disgraced himself.
Snail he come 2"
Of course L said that whatever they
thought 1 thought. But, when they
would not have that, | confessed that
to my mind Richard ought to help him.
"Just what l think p said he.
mother, tell him to come as soon as he
likes, and stay as long as he likes"
So that was settled. 1t seemed to
me- that night quite an unimportant
matter. l did not know all.
Before he went to bed, Richard whis-
pered
ION Sunday we dine at the Mill
House, and | shall claim your PROMISE y
/ can liken her TO nothing but a
pansy-one of those dark purple pansles
with that soft velvet bloom, that rich
varying color which no other flower
possesses. She was not dark, according
to my notion of the word, nor yet fair.
Slight, but beautifully made, she had
all the dropping grace, as she had the
deep coloring of that flower, which is
her emblem to me. Her eyes had the
soft TINT of its richest petals her hair
and lashes sven seemed to remind one
of some shade of the same flower, so
soft and dark were they, and yet not
black, so bright and silken in another
light. but not brown. She wore her
HAIR waving low over her forehead, the
coil dropping against the warm white OF
her neck.
Woman Is 1 am. it was some mo-
ments before l could withdraw my eyes
from the %bewitching sweetness of her
face to notice her dress. 1t was of the
same deep color; and it fell round her
in the same full graceful folds. Before
we had spoken a word l had yielded.
She had won me to her side without a
struggle. The rest was settled before
dinner.
We stood together in her bedroom
ready to go down. She came up to me,
and put both her hands in mine.
'WM you let me kiss you ?" she said
winningly. 81 have often heard of you,
and thought l should not like you. But
you are different, oh, so different FROM
what 1 imagined you'll
1 laughed as l kissed her. l guessed
that Richard had frightened her with
accounts of what he called my wisdom.
She was looking at me in a serious
thoughtful way, with a pretty little
pucker on her forehead. When she
saw l noticed it. she said
"Do you know, l am wondering ! |
am thinking how strange it is that
Richard should be in love with me-"
"'Wh ?" | asked, astonished.
you are so pretty and so good, Z" she
said, with naive lattery.
1t was hard, harder even than l had
thought; but l answered quietly
81 am only his sister. who loves him
very dearly"
"And you will be mine too, Lucy,
will you ?" she whispered. "You will
soon find out how much | need one"
I said Eyes" freely. No n could
have refused her. Besides, had | not
promised himg
After dinner Queenle beckoned me
from the room, and we went out INTO
the garden, which ran down blythe mill
stream.
Now tell me-" said Queenie, "what
do you like best to do ?"
s'How do you mean , 1 asked,
"Well. when you have two or three
hours before you to spend as you like,
what do you do with them Z"
/ was amused at the idea of my hav-
ing two or three hours to spare at a
time, and / told her so and then | de-
scribed my days duties, and how We
spent u evenings together. Mrs. Payne
and myself sewing while Richard read
to us, or told us his days experiences,
till bed time, and then | generally sang
one of my few old songs to make them
dream unsteady" as Richard said.
She looked at me wonderingly, and a
doubling expression stole over her eoun-
tenance.
"IIow industrious you are I" she
sighed. sand how idle l ami Do you
know / sometimes spend a whole day
learning a new piece of music, or read
ing a poem or story I Nay, worse /;
now and then I have a strange ht, and
| wander away somewhere by myself
for hours together, doing nothing at all
but thinking"
| thought of Richard | pictured this
frail beauty the wife OF industrious
prosaic Richard Payne, and | was silent.
Don't think very badly of me,
Lucy" she continued. "Try to re.
member that they have petted me al
ways, because | am delicate. They are
afraid | shall die as my mother died
suddenly, of some mysterious malady
which tha doctors think | inherit. And