New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1886-04-28

she only smiled in her calm way, and
took her own course without any more
disturbance. After her husbands
death she had come to know "old
Sale" and such affection as the eccen-
trio man had for human kind he gave
to her.
The house itself was just the place
you might expect to see if you had
driven in through old lodge-gates, had
rolled through avenues of lordly elnls,
and over green rulings of messy turf.
There it was, asquare, red brick house,
with rows of shining windows framed
in stone, with no porch, but with a.
heavily pedimented doorway at whose
side post hung an antique brass ham
die. Five broad steps rose from the
gravelled drive to this door; in front
was a small lawn and hower-beds; we
need not add that the spacious
expanse we have been saying
should have been was not there.
No. A high wall enclosed the garden,
a railway embankment looked down
upon it and upon q dusty high-street,
where shops were decidedly second
rate, and where, as evening approached,
costermongers' barrows were won't to
colgregate. It was a region the op-
posite OF aristocratic, and the nightly
sounds of shouting, as the costermong-
ers retailed their behring's and cabbagg-
es and cheap oil-cloth were not Of the
most musical.
No wonder Mrs, Lanes friends did
not care for the place. They declared
that small suburban cottage would
be better far.
perhaps So" Mrs. Lane said quiet
ly. But the cottage would cost me
sixty or seventy pounds a year, where
as here | save all that, and the girls
can move about so much more,
Il see that, but" and her sister
from Gypsy Hilllooked up and looked
down, and then looked round the real
ly fine drawing room.
"But, you would say, we should not
get such rooms?" Mrs. Lane had a
spice OF quizzical humor underlying her
ouietness.
"Indeed: no; l was thinking Of no
such point"
:'But we really should not; and now,
after so many years Of colonial open
air life, | must have space. The cos
termongers will not trouble us in the
winter-now, the windows are all
open"
1t was summer, and one could hear
every sound-shouts Of selling; SQUAD
bling Of cross, tired children; the rat
thing of the chains of barges; aye, and
the rustling OF the leaves OF the trees
in the garden, and in the lull of other
sounds, even the soft swish of the in
coming tide against the old stone
foundations Of the Shore House.
Here Maud came in with a handful
OF ruddy carnations for her aunt. The
smoke OF factories did not prevent
their growing half-wild in the old gar
den. Maud WAS going off that evening
for q few days visit to Gypsy HILL and
she meant to show that the Shore
House garden could do as well as any
on the score OF carnations. She was
a fair, yellow-haired girl, not by any
means vulgarized by the Shore House
locality, but as sweet and refined as
any girl could be.
Bessie and Nan were the other two
dark girls both OF them, and in that
like their father. Bessie was home on
ly that very day from a weeks stay
in London. Nan was the stay-at-
home daughter.
The August evening drew on. Aunt
Mary had driven off in cab with
Maud, and the usual course of things
drifted on. The river breezes, soften
ing the blaze of daytime, came now to
be chilly, and the windows were closed.
Then Nan sat down to the piano-the
girl played unusually well-and the
two others each took a book. Pre-
tence for both of them! Mrs. Lane
never even found her place, but open
ing the volume, and fixing it on her
knee, with her hand on it's open page,
she began to say: "Had Bess seen
such a person? heard how such anoth-
er was getting on?
And Bessie answered-answered
quite distinctly, but nevertheless in
such q way as her mother detected to
be a new way. The girl was thinking
Of something outside her words, and
as she answered she carried her book
to the window, seemingly so interested
in it's contents as to be unable to spare
a moment for what her mother want
ed-a nice chat, She had by mistake
taken up adictionary which Maud had
chosen to consult for some bubble Of
spelling.
Mrs. Lane had seen this, and smiled
to herself
When the cleaning had gathered a
bit more, and Mans fingers were VAN
dering amongst the dreamy, sad fan
cies OF Chopin, Mrs. Lane said.
"Come here, Bess DEAR" she was on
a sofa, and she made the girl sit at her
feet on a furry rug. cit was stupid
visit then, after alp"
"Stupid? It was heavenly"
Bessie was given to impulses
Heavenly! with Mrs. Clay laid up,
and all the boys off for their holi-
day."
"Just so, mumsie dear. I'd better
make clean breast OF it at once
hadn't l? went on Wednesday, and
the boys were off on Saturday-three
clear evenings, you see. for me to enjoy
the charms or their society andD-