Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1886-07-01
A FUGUE.
From Household Words.

/ ~ Il " ~ "
From Household Words.
The sun blazes high, for it is 5
O'Clock, and mid June. The roses are
out IN the rectory garden, and their
luscious scent floats in on the drowsy
air from the old round bed in the
centre, which one cannot see because
the red and white awning is let down
over the study window.
Mr. Lascelles is out on parish work,
and the study is the chosen resort of
Catherine and Evelyn Lascelles, his
daughters. Catherine, or Cathie, is
a girl with feecy golden hair; Evelyn
wears her brown locks in crop.
Nature has given them persistent
wave, and the barber cuts them short.
No fanciful dressing does she give to
her head beyond the care OF seeing
that there is no order, or rather al
ways picturesque disorder in her
| locks.
The girls have been talking-one
does not do much steady work on
June afternoons. Their conversation
has left a light OF decision in Cathie's
gray eyes. and filny haze, perhaps
voluptuous fire, in the deep brown
orbs OF Evelyn. She throws herself
full length on the bamboo reclining
chair by the window, and here are the
last words OF each sister.
Evelyn says; ut is wholly inmate
rial to mel" She is Is, and some in
describabie expression on her face
gives the lie to her naughty words. al
shall not move an inchl He comes,
he goes-it is all one. And it is not
all one to you"
Here the soft fire in her brown eyes
takes fash, and becomes a sparkling
fire.
"In the sense you would put it, it is
allone, replies Cathie, the elder by
one year; "but it is not all one if you
look at it from my point of view. 1t
may be very fine for young Gerald
WIckham to come here, but it is not
very fine that he should make love to
both the rector's daughters at once
That is what people say"
Indeed! They make no mark be-
tween the two daughters?"
Evelyn would be careless but she
cannot act the part.
Glow can they? They only see us
all in public. i wish aunt would send
over for mel"
CAS- if you need wait for the sending,
Gerald can follow you there
Can? Yes! VIII No."
''Take care" cries Evelyn.
And at the instant there comes,
mingling with the scent of the roses,
another perfume, that of-tobacco
Gerald Wickham, the Squire's son,
from the priory, lifts the red striped
awning
And Evelyn lies languid, playing
with a huge red japanese fan; the col
or has all gone Tor moment out of
her face, while he lazily leans against
the frame of the French-window by
which he has come in. Cathie's color
heightens one degree-the smallest de-
gree. He is nothing to her; but she is
angry that he will make love to her,
he for whom Evelyn is wearing out
her fiery soul.
He is quite honest; he does not
know yet which girl he likes best. He
plays with both, but his nature-his
lighter RSture-wants the pride, the
ambition, the fiery purposing of Eve,
lyn's to make him successful man.
Will he find this out, or will he play
on, and in thee think gentler Cathie
best" simply because he will have
stung Evelyn into some bitter revolt
against him?
He has nearly an hour OF Irritation,
il you pleaseto CALI by such an ugly
word But he is so bright and gay,
he is taking the world to be q very
good thing indeed, his future squire
ship is such comfortable one, he is
the very elimination of optimism
why not talk for an hour with two
such nice girls as the rector's daugh-
ters2
Cathie thinks she knows why not.
She slips out of the room, and puts
some needful gear into a black bag,
and goes down TO the aunt who keeps
house for the rector. Then she signi-
fies her intention ofgoing over to Aunt
Mary's for day or two.
"Mrs. Symons knows that Mary al
ways wants the girl, and both girls al
ways do Just as they like, so she mere
ly says: Every well, dear"
And now we see Cathie standing at
the rectory gate. Better, far better,
to fly for few days, for n week even,
if only Gerald will in the interval
come to his senses.
Something strikes the girl that she
is doing a strange thing. Her visit is
not strange--no, that might happen
any day, because Aunt Mary, who is
a wife to the doctor in Pucksleigh viii
lage, half an hours walk aio g by the
canal and the meadows, is more truly
mother-hke to these girls than Is the
other aunt, who has lived with them
for so many years No, there is no
strangeness in going over there for a
day or two, but is there not vague
mastering or commanding oil late IN
what she has taken for the reason OF
her action.
This thought made her grave.
She does not feel the sweet evening
GOODNESS that comes across the shining
canal waters; she does not see the fair
white. and blue, and gold mesh
ings of fiowry and reedy things that
fringe the bank; she does not hear the
cheep and twitter of the waterfowl
hidden in those rushy nests. No; and
when she has walked for the half hour
sine pays no heed to a whistle that IS
directly towards her; she feels none OF
the reddening western light that is
pouring over her head, and making OF
her such sunny bit offairness-no,s she
is simply absorbed in her thoughts.
She certainly does not see Aunt Mary
wave back the author OF that very
pronounced whistle.
Chris or Christopher Landon, the
doctors pupil, or deputy, whichever
you will, must keep out OF sight SO
Aunt Mary DEGREES.
And she is wise woman! She has
the intuitive eyes of motherhood; she
sees that Cathie with her bag has not
come over to Pucksleigh without a rea-
son. Ard so, alone, she comes out
across the pretty, unkempt, daisy be-
starred lawn to greet the girl and to
hear her story.
It is soon told.
A whole week runs by, and couple
of pressing messages have gone over
from Aunt Mary to her brother, the
rector, to beg for cathis . bit longer.