Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1890-04-04

| that OF tnls lovely, tempestuouS sprite.
What signifed one sacrifice more or
less2
Don't cry any more, Lizzie!' she
whispered. '.Tve made up my mind.
You shall go to Aunt Josie, instead of
me"
"Is"
Sand I'll wait an other year." added
Frances, swallowing lump in her
| throat. eYou shall have the music
less ons and the art lectures; you sha II
see what winter in the city is like. :"
Lizzie's eyes sparkled; her cheeks
were red. She flung her arms around
Frances's neck with sudden cry of
rapture.
'Oh, Frances, you don't really mean
it2"
"Yes, do" bravely uttered Frances.
"But mother won consent"
az will see to that"
Once more Lizzie showered soft,
warm kisses on her sisters cheek.
ooh, you darling! you sweet guar :
dian angel!' she cried. 'And am a
selfish little beast to allow you to sacri-
flee yourself in this outrageous fashion.
But if you knew how have longed to
escape from this dreadful groove of
housework and sewing and butter
makingl"
"You shall escape, Lizzie" said
Frances.
And no one ever knew the bitterness
of the tears she shed when Lizzie went
to Albany.
Mrs. Crest demonstrated stoutly, but
Frances held to her own way, and Liz
zie's entreaties were not to be with
stood.
Frances don't care" pleaded she;
"Frances always was human icicle.
And I'm so much younger than she is,
and-and-"
''And so much prettier," quietly
spoke the elder sister, ayes, Lizzie,
dear, know it."
Lizzie laughed and tossed her golden
curls.
''At all events" said she, 81 think
ought to have fair chance"
Lizzie's letters from Albany were full
of life and sparkle. She was like a
bird let loose. Everything was couleur
de rose to her. The gay streets were
dream of delight; the opera was an
actual reality. Her new dresses filled
her with delight; she was improving so
fast in music and drawing. and she
could not imagine how she had ever
lived all those dreary, dragging years
in the old farmhouse at home.
Sand, best of all, Stephen Ellsworth
had been so often to see her, and tax en-
her out sleighing and to the picture
galleries and heatres, ''all on dear old
Frances's account, of course" she
added, with spice of merry mischief.
She could not say enough in praise o t
Stephen Ellsworth. He was so hand
some, so stylish; the old Ellsworth
mansion on State street was so elegant
he sent her such exquisite cut flowers
and baskets of fruitl
And Frances, reading those letters at
home after her days work of school
teaching was over, tried to rejoice in
her young sisters happiness.
''Mother," she said one day, 81
should like to see the child in her new
dresses. think I'll go up to Albany
and surprise her. Lucy Lampson will
take the school for week. Dear little
Lizzie! how astonished she will be-.
"Wife," said Farmer Crest hoarsely,
when Frances had gone up to bed, full
of her new plan, II don't knows we
ought to let her CO."
''Why not, Obeda"
az saw DR.. Jones's son this morning.
| He is just home from the Albany medi-
cal college, and he says every one is
talking of our Lizzie's engagement to
Cap'n Ellsworth"
"Obed Crest, you're a-dreamin'l'
al wish was, wife, wish was |!
But it's only what we'd ought to have
expected. Lizzie is as pretty as pic
ter, and as frothy as a bowl o soap
suds, and brimful O mischief into the
bargain; and Ellsworth $ only mortal
man after all. Franco ought to have
married him year ago, when he
wanted her to do so, only she wouldn't t
leave us until we'd paid the mortgage
on tho farm, and got even with the
world"
| s'But, Obed, what are we to do2