The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, 1893-11-17

family sitting-room, where real
country fire of huge hemlock logs
blazed in an immense gulf Of fire.
place and the red and green carpet on
the floor, and the crimson window cur.
tains, and the cushioned rocking
chairs, and the homemade sofa. and
the bookcase, and the little cottage
piano in the corner, all looked de-
lightfully cosy and homelike in its ruby
glow. But delightfulest sight of all,
table covered with tho whitest of da,
mask stood i'll the centre of the room,
laden with that profusion that only
eountrY folks know how to revel in.
How fragrantly the hot tea and warm
biscuits smelt how tempting looked
the fruit, ham, golden butter, tho but.
tered toast, tho apple tarts, the cold
chicken and cheese and cake and the
amber jcllies, sparkling like huge Jew
els in the cnt gla ~ dishes
What n merry meal it was and how
Kitty and Hnttie's tongues did run!
and how politely and languidly fas-
cinnting Mr.. Duval tried to be! aud
how John, coming out of his bashful-
ness, began talking to Miss Grant and
his own iucncy! And when supper
was over. and she sat down at the pi.
apo, what was his surprise anat delight
80 sec her dear little white fingers go
rattling over the keys TO the merry
tune of "Speed the Plow," instead of
the dismal and dreadfully long fan.
tnsias Sister Kitty affected, and of
which he never could make head nor
tail. Miss Grant was a perfect little
darling, and so Kitty had rapturously
said when she kissed that lady for the
thousandth time and showed her to
her chamber and, returning to the
sitting room, found Brother John
there alone, looking thoughtfully into
the roaring, red fire.
tAnd l WISH" cried Kitty, ecstati-
cally, ooh, how do wish she was my
sister!"
''And so do I, Kitty" said Brother
John, starting up. "Good night"
When Mr.. Duval took himself of
next morning, Miss Grants last mes
sage had been
''Tell mamma and MI the folks
will be home in fortnight, Mt the
and she was not ut home. Christmas
came and went, and still Miss Hattie
rusticatcd. 1t was the oldest thing in
tn" world, Miss Hattie's mamma said;
what could keep the child in the couu.
| try? or what charm was there to keep
the gay city girl so long? If it was
| August, now; but Decembcr.-only
fancy! And all her numerous admir-
crs began to echo tho exclamation and
turn their thoughts to an Investigating
trip to Ashicld themselves. All had
they only known whit good times Hat
tic was having sleighing nll over the
country with Kitty and Brother John,
| and ont skating every evening on the
lake, and going to quilting frolics md
surprise parties, and doing everything
else she liked-frcc and Independent
for once in her life; quite forSctful of
the cXistnncc of the terrible lady, Mrs
Grundy; and finding out, too, what
poet brother John was and how beau
tifullv he could read aloud stormy
evenings, while she and Kitty embroid-
cred. and how he know Latin and lots
of things noboly wonld ever suspect
All It M9s al ieliESshtfuI # l.sM and the only
was tho evening before her dc D''t
tf-'s-IHaa rbe11s beee1esmfa7 evsa;na, With
rain and slcet lashing tho windows and
the gale sobhing and surging wildly
| around the old farm house But in the
slttlnG-room, where the hcmlock logs
| ro"rcd and blnzcd, flooding every cor
| nor with rosy light where the crimson
curtains were drawn, everything was
delightfully."- warm and coZy and Hattie
sat alone at the piano, the open letter
| lying on it, her fingers straying over
the keys and one bright drop after
another falling unheeded on the pol
ishedivory. Presently the door opened,
some one came in and stood beside her,
but Hattie never looked up.
''Whcre's Kltty?" asked brother
John
Hattie had to cough TO clear her
throat before she could answer.
''Up stairs helping Betty to strap
my trunk -
"You are going away tomorrow,
them"
Yes, very family.
"Won't you play for me once more
before you go?"
| The restless fingers were still for an
instant, then "Specd the Plow' rang
| gayly through the room.
Brother John looked down at the lit.
tic white hands, still once more with.
ont venturing glance at the downcast
face.
Speed the Plow' is very pretty
tune; but plows are extremely. vulga:
things in renlity-don't you think 80. +"
"No!"
care You not glad you are going
back 60 the city and your gay life
there
| No answer.
"You must have found it very dull,
I am afraid, in this quiet country place
for the past month";"
| Still mute.
"Mr. Duval is coming for you,
think Kitty said.