Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-12-06

tor had gone into his study, and the dining
room was empty. A single small red lamp
| upon the sideboard was reflected tenfold bv
! the plate about il and the mahogany be-
! meath it, though its single wick cast but a
! feeble light into the large, dimly shadowed
room Ida danced off to the big central
| lamp, but Clara put her hand upon her arm
Il rather like this quiet light" said She
| why should we not have chat" She
sat in the doctors large plush chair, and
her sister cuddled down upon the foot-stool
at her feet. glancing up at her elder with a
| smile upon her lips and mischievous CLEAN
| In her eyes. There was a shade OF anxiety
| in Clara s face, which cleared away as she
| gazed into her sisters frank blue eyes
''Have you anything to tell me, dear?'
| she asked
Ida gave little pout and shrug to her
| shoulders.
You were quite late upon the lawn, -
| said the memorable Clara
| ''Ges, 1 was rather So were you Have
you anything to tell me?'' She broke away
into her merry musical laugh
II was chatting with Mr.. Westmacott. -
'And L was chatting with Mr.. Denver
| By the way, Clara, now tell me truly what
! do you think of Mr.. Denver? Do you like
| him? Honestly now!'
| 81 like him very much, indeed I think
| he is one OF the most gentlemanlv, modest,
manly young men that have ever known.
| So now, dear, have you nothing to tell me2'
| Clara smoothed down her sisters golden
| hair with motherly gesture, and stopped
! her face to catch the expected confidence
She could wish nothing better than that Ida
should be made the wife OF Harold Denver,
and from the words she had overheard as
| they left the lawn that evening she could
| not doubt that there was some understand
| ing between them.
But there came no confession from Ida.
Only the same mischieyous smile and
amused CLEAN in her deep blue eyes.
That gray foulard dress" she began.
''Oh, you little tease. Come now, I will
ask you what you have just askedme. Do
/ you like Harold Denver"
''Ida -
"Well, YOU asked me. That's what I
| think Of him. And now you dear old in
| qulsitive, you will get nothing more out of
Inc, so you must Just wait and not be too
| curious I'm going off to see what papa is
| doing" She sprang TO her feet, threw her
arms round her sisters neck, gave her a
final squeeze, and was gone. A chorus from
"0livette," sung in her clear contralto,
grew fainter and fainter until it ended in
the slam of distant docr
! NitId w dlheT IN the Qlm-llC
! room with her chin upon her hands and her
dreamy eyes looking out into the gathering
gloom. 1t was the duty of her. a maiden,
! to play the part of mother-to guide
! another in paths which her own steps had
not Vet trodden. Since her mother had
died not thought had been given to her
self, all was for her father and her sister,
in her own eyes she was herself very plain,
and she knew that her manner was often
ungracious when she would most wish to be
gracious. She saw her face as the glass re-
tected il, but she did not see the changing
play Of expression which gave it its charm
the infinite pity, the sympathy, the
sweet womarliness which drew toward her
all who were in doubt and trouble, even as
poor, slow-moving Charles Westmacott had
been drawn TO her that night. She was her
sell, she thought, outside the pale of love.
But it was very different with Ida, merry,
little, quick-witted, bright-faced Ida She
was born for love. 1t was her inheritance.