The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1893-05-13
Select Storp.
SYLVIA.
From Macmillan's Magazine.

Carl quickly fell under the spell OF this
life in the woods. The experience was al
together novel and had a peculiar charm
for him. Mr.. Maynard had persuaded
him to give up his rooms at the inn and
take up his quarters at the cottage for a
time. "There is plenty of room and L
shall like to have you" he said, with un-
mistakable sincerity, and Carl had yielded.
He liked the old man; there was a great
charm about his courtly manners and his
gentleness, gentleness, which was espe-
cially noticeable in his manner to his
daughter.
One morning as he was sitting in the
library Sylvia ran past. Her father called
to her, and she stopped with frown of
childish impatience and slowly retraeted
her steps.
Sylvia, are you off into the woods
again p he asked, gently. "You run
about too much by yourself, my child. |
don't quite like it.
"Mr. Merivale's going with me, )" she re-
piled, sulkily, her whole face changing in
a moment to perfect thundercloud. 81
thought you wanted my picture painted"
eyes, yes, my darling" answered her
father, hastily. eff Mr.. Merivale is going
with you that is different matter. |
didn't know he was sketching you out of
doors. II
"Considering that Mr.. Merivale has
been out with her every day this week,
let's hope it's DONE" was Thornton's men
tai comment, as he went on steadily writ
ing.
'sTakc plenty of lunch, dear, and let me
see my child look happy before she goes,
urged Mr.. Maynard, tenderly.
The smile which, spreading gradually
over Sylvia's face, dispersed the frowns
was the prettiest thing to see. 1t was as
though you had watched the sun emerge
slowly from behind dark cloud and grad
ually food the fields with light.
"What provokingly lovable baby it is, /"
thought the apparently busy writer, as
Sylvia leaned in at the window and patted
her fathers check, giving his long hair
little twitches every now and then like a
mischievous nut-brown squirrel
"You know what you promised me if |
sat still for my picture" she was begin
ming when she caught sight of Thornton,
and an indescribable kind of blank express
sion came creeping up into her face, mo-
ment before so arch and coaxing. Carl
had noticed the look before, when she was
startled or puzzled over anything. She
looked at him for second with wide-open
eyes and then walked slowly away, looking
back over her shoulder as she went.
The busy scratching Of Thornton's pen
was the only sound. As he paused an in
slant to take fresh sheet, Mr.. Maynard
suddenly asked, his face turned to the
bookcase, "What do you think of
Sylvia p
Carl raised his head, looked to where
his host stood with his back toward him
taking down fresh book, and replied, II
.L;nT sba 10 oharnn;noy y
"Mr. Maynard futtered the leaves of
the volume he held for a second, then re-
placed it on the shelf, and turned and
faced him. "That is not what meant,
you know" he said, in tone as different
as possible from his usually gentle voice.
81 mean, do you notice that she is differ
ent from other people ?"
Carl looked at the old man and aban-
doned the idea of an ambiguous compli-
ment which the words had suggested as a
way out of the difficulty. "Yes," he re-
piled gravoly, 81 have noticed it.
Mr. Maynard sighed. "If her mother
had lived" he said almost inaudibly, be-
ginning to pace the room slowly, sshe
would have known She must be eigh-
teen by now,' he went on musingly. aShe
runs wild, and it is not good for her
only she loves it so, he added pathetically
aStilI, it is time, quite time, that she had
woman's society" he went on with an air
Of great resoluteness sIf | could only
get her to go to London-my cousin, Mrs.
Rivers, has often asked her, couldn't
you persuade her p he asked, turning
| hopefully to Carl