The Opelousas courier., 1885-12-12

seemed to irradiate her labors, a new
intelligence broke in upon her mind.
Her pen scratched rapidly over the
paper, a sort of method settled itself
among the writings Of M. de This and
Nine. de That, and Louise began to
be quite sure that she liked it.
She sent off her work, and Mr.;
Townsend wrote back expressing the
utmost satisfaction.--ME~ Eortescne's
MSS, he said, were far beyond his
most saguine anticipations in clear
ness. comprehensiyeness and research.
He did not know but that the accident
Of the sprained ankle was likely to
prove a really fortunate occurrence.
And, better than all, he enclosed a
check for a sum that seemed like a
gold mine to the girls.
This was in March. When the
May violets began to blossom in the
carts of the 1oWer-sellers. and "Prim:
roses | prim-ro-ses!" cried through
the streets, Alfred was considered
sufficiently convalescent to be told all
these events, and n afternoon, sit
ting by the window, Louise had just
began to say:
There something we've been saw
ing to tell you because"
When Grace opened the door, with
something Of a puzzled face, and an
nounced:
"Mr. Townsend"
Enter, a tall f%ine-Iooking gentleman,
who held out his hand to. the beWilz
dered Alfred with the utmost courtesy.
"Being unexpectedly summoned to
this neighborhood, he said, Il could
not deny myself the pleasure Of cali
ing. to thank you for the very scholar
ly ana thorough manner in which you
have carried out myssideas respecting
the Napoleonic era of literature, and I
wish to be-speak your cooperation in
another, and perhaps more eompre-
hensive literary undertaking which
aMy dear sir" cried Alfred. II
haven't the least idea what you are
talking about !"
"But I havep cried Louise, start
| ing up. 'I-I-beg your pardon, Mr..
Townsend, but it was | that carried
out the Napoleonic Ideasie My BROTH
er was very ill with brain fever. and
we didn't dare to tell him. and { had
been expensiyely educated, and read
French readily SO that
you don't tell, me. said Mr..
Townsend, sthatyou wrote all those
folios in that bold. running hand
that goV sifted out the kernels from
that mass of historic evidence
"Yes ! did," confessed poor Louise,
coloring to the very roots of her hair.
Il was just beginning to tell Alfred
about it when you came in:
And then, by way Of establishing
her character for strong-miniedness.
she ran out of the room and lid her
self at the back Of the kitchen door
among the pots and pans, while
Fin the little front room the two
gentlemen were afiIiating marvel
ously, and the pale young scholar was
mapping out enough work to last six
months, at least.
"And what | can't do myself" said
he. with a saguine smile, 81 shall get
my little sister to do for me, for I be-
gin to think she's several degrees
more capable than ! am.
.'Shall Ihaye the pleasure Of seeing
her again before Igo away?p asked
MI. Townsend, Wistfully.
Call her, Grace," said Alfred.
So Louise had to come out from be-
hind the pots and pans again, and this
time she became really well acquain-
ted with Mr.. Townsend.
Things happen most unaccountably
in the world. For example: In a few
weeks Mr.. Townsend discovered that
il would accelerate the progress Of his
work very much. indeed, If he could
personally superintend il. And he
found himself compelled to go over a,
great many Of the folios with Miss.
Fortescue. And one day they drifted
into d topic of conversation quito,
Irrelevant TO literature. dc any age
whatever.
And Alfred, buried soul and spirit
In 4 pile of tonnes ID the window seat
beyond, had to be shaken briskly by the
shoulders before lie could be brought
back into everyday existence.
aEh2n said he, Iaying.doWn his pen.
alVhat ii it?,
NY dear fellow, congratulate ne r
cried Townsend, radiantly. YouF
sister has promised to be nj wffeP'
Alfred Fortescue was not particus
Iarly surprised. Your book worm never
is surprised at anything. But Grace
was.
.WelI, I declared was her eharao
teristic exclamation. uJust when