Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1891-05-22


lay awake at night, TO dream them again.
She would have enjoyed it all, has she
been merely a spectator of the gayety
around her, but she was always included
in the party, when Mrs. Sutherland's
friends picDiced across the lake, or made
excursions on the little steamer.
One morning she came in from a walk
with some children along the pier, and
wen: at once to the shady corner of the
piazza, where she had left Mrs. Suther-
land busy with her crochet-work. She
saw gentleman talking to her, whom
she had never seen before, and was about
tie pass on, when the lady smiled and
beckoned to her.
'sThis is the little friend I was telling
you about, she said in hurried under
tone as the girl approached. 81 want
you to be particularly nice to her."
"Ah, Sally" she continued, as she
came up. 81 have had delightful sur
prise this morning. My nephew Sydney
has just come. Allow me to introduce
Mr. Lambert, Miss Merrill"
He arose to return her bow, and place
chair for her, but she would not sit
down. 81 promised to take Miss Moore
the book we were reading this morn
ing" she said. ooh, here it isl" She
picked it up, and with an embarrassed 1T
tie bow went on.
"Why aunt" he said, as she passed
into the hall, ''she is as plain as little
nun. From your enthusiastic praises, I
had expected to see a perfect wild
rose"
''She is a dear little thing" was Mrs.
Sutherland's reply. "You must know
her we'll to appreciate her thoroughly"
Upstairs in her room, with her chin in
her hands and elbows on the window
sill, Sally was gazing abstractedly out on
the lake. "What glorious eyes he had, ;"
she said to herself, "and what voice
He is the handsomest man l ever saw"
Naturally kind-hearted, and one of the
most courteous of men, it was very
easy thing tor Sydney Lambert to be
"particularly nice" to his aunt's guest.
He was a confirmed old bachelor, Mrs
Sutherland told her, over thirty -fve; and
to Sally's eighteen years, that did indeed
seem great age. He thought of her
only as child, and exerted himself to
help his aunt give her good time. He
delighted her with his constant little at
tentions and efforts to entertain her.
1t was part of the new life she could
not grow accustomed to. She told her
self over and over that it meant nothing.
It was mere formality that made him
spring up to open door for her, to offer
her a seat, to fold shawl around her
when the evenings grew cool. Jonas, in
all his years of devotion, had never been
so observant. He never watched for q
chance to render the little services
which SO gratihed her pride, and won
her regard.
Sometimes a little thorn crept in
among her roses. She felt it when she
sat quietly beside Mrs. Sutherland in the
evenings, listening to the dreamy waltzes,
and watching Mr.. Lambert dancing with
one after another of the graceful girls in
their pretty gowns.
She had never feared to dance. She
felt it again sometimes in the mornings,
when she sat in cool corner of the long
parlors, with a book, and he turned the
music for some ones white fingers to
play. She looked regretfully at her own
small hands. They were hard and red,
though shapely, and they had no accom-
plishments. She felt it again when she
met him going through the corridors,
racquet in hand, aud looking handsomer
than ever in his tennis cap and blazer.
She might have excelled at that game,
but she had no costume like the other
cirls So she missed that Measure too
But she forgot about it when he
strolled with her along the beach, or
talked to her on the piazza. Once he
brought her cluster of pond lilies, and
once when they had walked down
to the pier in the twilight, he had taken
her for short row on the lake.
How handsome he had looked with
his dark head thrown back little, as he
talked to her, and how his voice rang out
across the water, when he sang a line
from some opera, just to show how it
went.
One morning, as she was about to start
down to the steamer with little fishing
party: to spend the day across the lake,
a bell-boy brought her letter. it was
from Jonas. ''Poor old Jonasw she
thought regretfully. She had forgotten
her promise to write to him. She had
almost forgotten him. She half wished
she had not promised to write. Then
Mr.. Lambert came up and took her wraps
and she slipped the letter into her pocket,
unread.
One thing stamped that day indelibly
nm Sal1v'S memory Somehow coming