Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1893-03-24

Ladies, both of them; one, apparently
thirty years old, the other, scarcely sew
enteen; and as they sat there warming
themselves by the hotel fire, the landlord
touched his wife's shoulder, and whis-
pered to her: "Furriners!'
For there was something in the cut of
their curious fur lined draperies, the
shape of their neat Grape hats, the very
way in which they unconsciously carried
Marseillaise itself, although there was
no accent in their voices as they ques-
toned whether any conveyance from
Barnet Hill had been sent to meet them.
And the landlord was right; for Gene
We've and Genevra Ballace were the
daughters of American parentage, born
in sunny France. Orphaned and alone,
they were coming to America to claim
the prot ,ction of relative of their
mothers, "Cousin Fred" as they had
been taught to call him.
"Do you suppose he will be good to
us2" Genevra, the dimpled seventeen
year. older, asked, as she sat with her
cheek against Genevieve's shoulder.
al hope so, darling" said the elder
sister. 'sNo one but brute could be
unkind to YOU"
For little golden haired, rose Tipped
Genevra was one of those human sun
beams who take every heart by storm,
and in her deep mourning, she looked
even sweeter and more attractive than
her ordinary wont. And dark eyed
Genevieve, thirteen years older than her
sister, had long ago unselfishly put aside
her own personality and identified her.
self entirely with the household pet and
beauty.
~ wonder if he is cross old crab, :"
pondered Genevra, as she drank the tea
brought to her by the landlady, and
basked in the welcome warmth of the
blazing logs. Tor whimsical old bachel-
or, full of caprices. Oh, Genevieve! |!
Don't you dread to meet him2"
Genevieve smiled.
"Little one," said she, sdon't fret.
Whatever happens, we shall be together,
and"
But just then, the landlord came bust
ling in.
'The double sleigh from Barnet Hill,
ladies'" he said, rubbing his hands.
"And MIR. Barnet himself has come"
Close on the landlords words came
Mr.. Barnet, of Barnet Hill, tall, hand
some man of about thirty, with bright
brown hair clustering over a noble fore
head, keen black eyes and features clear
and perfect as those of the Apollo Belvi-
dere.
fare these my cousins2" he said,
pleasantly. "You are welcome to Bar
net, Genev1eve and Genevra."
Instinctively, little Genevra put her
hand to her disheveled curls. Had she
expected to see any one but wrinkled
old sexagenariau, she would have taken
more pains with her toilet. But Gene
We've rose and smilingly put her hand
into the extended palm of her cousin.
1t was long, snowy drive to Barnet
Hill, but Genevra declared, joyously,
that it was worth it all, when they were
ushered into the great, old fashioned
drawing room with its blazing camel
coal fires, its yellow satin curtains and
the moss-soft carpet on which the foot
fall made no sound.
"Do you know" said Cousin Fred,
laughing, "that was expecting to see
TWO little school girls in short frocks and
thick boots2"
"And do you know" retorted Genev-
ra, "that our minds were fully prepared
to behold rheumatic old gentleman
with a crutch2"
And in fifteen minutes they we're On
the footing of old friends.
But they had scarcely lived six months
at Barnet Hill before the inevitable
''little cloud like mans hand" arose
on their atmosphere.
"Genevieve," said Mr.. Barnet, rather
graveiy, one day. ''I wish you would
warn dear little Gypsy against that