The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1886-05-26
A BIT OF JEALOUSY.


Rebecca Lacy was coming across the sere
autumn fields, with little tin pail of butter
milk In her hand. She was going to have
company to tea, and she had planned to set
before them butterrnilk biscuit and ounce
preserves, such as her mother used to have
long ago, when the minister and his wife
were their honored guests. For surely Alva
Lathrop was more welcome visitor to Re-
becca than any one else could be.
OF course there was a love-story at the
bottom of all this, unlikely subject though
our heroine looked for the tender influence.
If the little winged god. For Rebecca Lac,
was well on in the thirties, and had hard
sensible, Scotch face, with high cheek-bones,
u freckled skin, and hair of decidedly red
tinge. BY trade she was tailoress, and all
the neighbors lifted up their voices In CON-
mendntion of the thrift and ministry that
had kept her old father in comfort until he
died, and by her own unassisted endeavors
had finally paid of the mortgage on the little
house that had belonged to the Lacys for
for over hundred years.
For in this country, romance and reality
oyerlic each other like the streaks in a piece
Of mosaic. Every working woman has her
little love story, and oftener than not Cupid
Ia harnessed to the pillow, and keeps vigil
over the wash-tub. And well it is that n
should be so,--for what would life be worth
without such occasional illumination?
Rebeeea, as we have said, was tailoress.
Alva Iathrop, rising young merchant in
the nearest town, was coming to claim her
as soon as he was able to provide a comfort
able home for her and the old house un-
her the butternut-trees was TO be rented to
Aunt Dorothy Fielding, who, with her
pretty daughter Ariadne, was visiting Re.
becca now
g It's great thing 80 be settled in life,'
said Aunt Dorothy, with q sigh. She wat
speaking apropos of Rebecca's engagement.
!" wish l could make Ariadne realize the
importance of it. She's dreadful light.
minded girl, is Ariadnei"
''No one ought to be ight-minded on
such subject as that" said Rebscca, the
color mounting into her faded cheek.
''Ariadne won't hear to reason" said
Aunt Dorothy, clicking her knitting needles
like homely castanets. She says she don't
want to settle down just yet. She wants n
good time first. And if I've told her once,
I've told her dozen times, that she'll go
through the woods and take up with
crooked stick yet, see If she don't"
Rebecca shook her head gryaely. She
'ather liked her pretty cousin Ariadne,
whose cheeks were pinker than the inside Of
o fullripe watermelon, and whose 9 lrly
head shone in the sun like FURNISHED bronze.
But herr was one of those hard natures that
had no sympathy with little coquetries and
mnidenly equivocations. With her, yes was
yes, and no was no. If she meant o thing,
she said it boldly, and truth was the very
essence of her being.
She was not thinking of Ariadne Fielding,
however, as she came across the meadow,
with the tin-pail Of buttermilk in her hand.
Alva Lathrop had arrived already-she could
see the horse and buggy standing under the
old butternut-tree, whose following leaves
were floating drowsily downward in the lag
gard breeze. Aunt Dorothy was picking
grapes by the trellis in the garden, her red
,unbonnet supplying the element of color
In the landscape. Involuntarily, Rebecca
oegan 10 mum tne reirain Oh an exuitant ola
camP-mee'ins hymn as sne hurried along.
" I'll just mix up the biscuit, because II
~ ee'''ng 'a'e' sne ,nougn' ana tnen III
~ N anu see AivA- Ariaone Will ahuse MN
unui : ee' 'ne pans 'n'o 'ne oven' ohe mas
awAys solne'n,ns interesting !" say ano
AVA hkes ne. KNOW.
om which ~ wan De very es'aeh. W 'ne
'esusl ''ia'' s. ye'' we sieen-eyea mon
o ~
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IVA '
Love" she cried, In frettish, childish
way. II don't think l know what II
means"
But you will try to comprehend It,
Ariadne, for my sake," said Alya LAthrop,