Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1890-01-04


ried life; their chief amusement, occupation
and excitement. The cottage was always with
them. and the greatest pleasure OF their for
eign wanderings was found in bric-a-brac shops
searching out strange and picturesque things
| for their new home. At the end of those two
years the cottage was no longer a cottage, but
| a spacious and luxurious house. of moderate
elevation. with many gables, tiled roof. and
! tall chimney stacks. The garden had been
made as perfect as its narrow limits would al
| low; but everybody felt. and many people said,
| that the house was too large and too handsome
| for its surroundings.
They had occupied il for nine years, and the
| daughter who had entered it a vear-old baby
wa Old enough to learn her first French verb,
although her education had been conducted in
very Ielsurcly manner. yet only today had
come the hope OF possessing the adjoining land.
which had been III the hands of trustees until
TWO or three years ago. when the heir had come
OF age.
The trustees had been unable to sell. and the
| heir had been unwilling to sell. but winter on
! the Riviera had brought about a change of
tactics, and TINS morning Mr.. Hatrell had seen
the land agent. and had been told that young
FlOrestan would be glad of an order for SO
much of the home farm as might be wanted to
| perfect Mr.. Hatrell's holding.
You Will understand that as there is river
| frontage, and the land is eminently adapted
| for building. we shall want good price for 1t,
| said the agent
Let me know your price without an hours
| unnecessary delay. III rather not make an
! offer. can't be buyer and seller too" an
| swered Hatrell, and then he walked home at
| i've miles an hour, trimming over with delight,
| triumphant ar having such news to carry to his
| wife.
| They looked this way and that and talked and
| pointed on. boundaries and distances Those
| de.gr old chestnuts must come down; the river
| terrace must be continued along there; the
| meadow would have to be leveled into an upper
| and lower lawn, and there must be stone balus-
trades and flights of steps
I'm afraid it will cost fortune" said Clara.
| 1--WE can afford to do it. dear. now We have
| given up the house in Chester street"
They had discovered two or three years be-
fore that London house was a useless ex-
| pense-an incubus III some wise, since 1t
| Obliged them to live i'll town when they would
rather BIO IN the country. They both infinitely
! PREFER d life in BuckinShamshire to life in
Beigravia. so on the cxpiry of the first term of
| the lease they gave up the house, and sold the
bulk OF the furniture to the incoming tenant
| And now they could spend as much of their
! time as they liked in the house by the river,
| and could winter In Italy or Switzerland with
| out any scruples of conscience. When they
| wanted to be in London there were hotels
\ ready to receive them and the journey to the
| West End took very little more than an hour.
The child had stuck to her book with logged
| determination while her mother and father
we're indoors; but the sight of them standing
on the lawn was too much for her. Their
\ animated gestures filled her with curiosity.
What were they pointing out to each other?
| What could they be talking about?
| Her tutor laid his long white fingers upon
her shoulder. with the slow caressing touch she
| knew so we'll
Where your thoughts flying. Daisy?" he
| SAID gently. I'VE shan't manage our two
| lenses If you don't attend better"
| I'm rather tired" said the little girl ''and
| want to go to mother"
| Let II be one tense, then. only one; but it
must be quite perfect. Shut your book, and
/ tell me the French for Il am"
''Je suis, replied Daisy, watching those sun
| lit hgures on the lawn-her mother in Il gown
of cream white wooden stuff. with an orange
| coiored handkerchief knotted loosely round
! her neck.
The tutor-tutor for love- not gain-never
| looked up. Dreamy at the best of times. he was
IN an unusually meditative mood this morning
He seemed to be giving small portion OF his
Drain-power to the child, while all the rest was
| lost In labyrinth of thought.
The present tense, indicative mood, of the
verb ''etre" was repeated without hitch.
Good, said Ambrose Arden; 1--WE will have
| the imperfect tense tomorrow. And now YOU
may run in the garden for half an hour before
| we read our English history. Perhaps you
would like to read out of doors"
Very much. if you please, Uncle Ambrose {"
She put her arms around his neck an laid
her soft cheek against his silky hair. He had
pale auburn hair, which he wore rather long: his
skin was as fair AS woman's. Hair and COM
| plexion and the clear bright blue of the large
dreamy eyes, gave something of effeminacy to
his appearance; but his features were large and
boldly cut, iongish nose inclining to aquiline
a strong chin and wide. resolute mouth. He
| was tall and broad-shoudered, but had the
| stoOp OF a bookish man. whose life was for the
| most part sedentary. All his movements were
| slow and deliberate, and his full, deep voice
| had slow and deliberate modulations-a legato
| movement that answered to the gliding move
ments of his figure
| Daisy flew out to the lawn like an arrow from
| a bow. She mad her mothers hazel eyes and
| vivacity. sim. straight. and swift as ATLANTA
| dark brown hair flying i'll the wind. Ambrose
/ Arden rose slowly and sauntered after her.
| May inquire the cause of all this excite
ment?' he asked, as he approached husband
and wife.
Didn't you hear just now. you man of ice?"
! Robert Hatreh exclaimed laughingly. ''Can it
| be that mundane things have no interest for
| yOu that you nave only ears and mind for the
| abstractr'
Il heard something about Florestan's land. :"
| Precisely. Had YOU been more keenIy in
| terested IN the welfare of your friends you
| might have heard that L have now the chance
! OF getting the additional ground my poor Clara
| has been pininS for ever since made our
| garden"
Il am very glad. ;" said Arden, quietly.
.'You don't look a bit glad" said Clara.
| Il am one of those cOld-blooded people
whose faces do not express what they feel. l
| am heartily glad, all the same-since you and
/ Hatrell are glad"
| .'Oh, it Is Clara's business. This place is
| Claras creation. She can do what she likes
with it," said Hatrell. I'll have Cruden over
| this afternoon to plan the new ground"
! But, my dear Rob- is it worth while to begin
| our plans before we are even sure of the
! ground?" demonstrated common sense in the
person of his WIFE
| We are quite sure. 1t is only a question of
! a hundred or two more or less. Florestan
wants money, and he can spare the land; we
want the land and we can spare the money
! There Is always so much time lost in beginning
| anything. I'll send for Cruden at once"
! Yes, and you and Mr.. Cruden will have
planned every detail before / can make sin
gle suggestion. said Clara. II know your I'M
petuOsity of old"
My love. the new garden was your idea. and
you shall carry it out in your own way" re-
piled her husband, but we may as well see
Cruden's plans. He is the best man in this
part OF the country for a job OF that kind. We
viii do nothing without your approval"
Clara gave a little impatient sigh. She knew
! so well for how little her approval would count
when once the landscape gardener and his men
were set at work; how little pause or leisure
| there would be for thought or taste. and how
the whole business would be hurried along by
her husbands impatient temper till all was
fixed and complication good or i'll. And she
knew that tine l3vliest gardens she had seen
had been the slow and gradual growth of care
| and thought.
Mr.. Cruden, however, was a prince among
IL