Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1896-12-05

repl oach.
"My dear, I shall firt with him
again if he comes my way-with him
or anyone else. You will be in Rome {;
you won't know"
And then q mans voice asked some
one called "Trix" when she started
for Rome.
New arrivals, Mr.. Ferrand thought,
and he looked at them little curl.
ously when they presently appeared
on the lawn-evidently country par
SOD, with two distinctly pretty daugh.
ters. Which was ''Trix?" Oh, the
ruddy-haired one, for she addressed
her darker sister as Joan" Mr.. Fer
rand looked coldly ON the latter she
was flirt. He hated the whole class.
Beatrice Lennox and he soon grew
good comrades. The girl amused him
with her petulant ways and quick
speeches. Above all, he liked the
memory of her anger against hirt.
He thought her ''real" and sun
spoiled"
Mr.. Ferrand's taste was trihe fas.
U&uAOubs lA0 Wo0 aoU q 1buy . uuuS
but to Trix he fell a victim; he walked
with her, he talked with her and Joan
laughed to see Trix blush when he
spoke to her.
"He is so handsome" Trix pleaded,
in extenuation of her bushes, she is
unlike other men-and so delightfully."-
cynical. suppose he must be nearly
forty with a sight seemed an
enormous age to one.ar rd.twenty.
'Joan, even you must allow his eyes
are good"
"My dear, they may be. Ihave
never seen them; he has never yet
honored me with his regard, laughed
Joan.
The elder sister made but short
stay at the little lake, but Trlx and
her father stayed on from one week to
another. The mountains were So
grand, the boating 80 jolly, her father
was enjoying the fishing-why move?
Yet it took very little to spoil the
charm Of the place to the girl. She
and Mr.. Fe1rand were sitting on the
wall by the sunny lake, watching the
boats-at least the girl was. for the
man was looking at her. He had been
listening to an account OF her home at
the country Rectory, laughing quietly
at her plant of its dullness.
"But you go abroad" he said.
81 wish did do not f; Joan does;
she winters in Rome. Her godmother
takes her; alas, I have no fairy god
motherl"
"But surely heard your father say
that 'Trix'-pardon me-'Trix' WAS
going to Rome"
"Oh, very likely; father muddles
up our names. But, alas, it is only
Joan who goes abroad"
Mr.. Ferrand tilted his hat over his
eyes and sat silent. So, after all, the
girl beside him, whom he had believed
in, was q Airt-his abomination; and
all these days she had, he supposed,
been trying to amuse herself with him
in the absence of "Harry." Trix Won
dered why her companion was so stu.
pid. She wondered more as the days
went on; he became worse than stu.
pid, for his remarks grew an edge and
sting. She had laughed at his cyni-
cism when others were the. victims,
but she quite failed in liking it when
the shafts glanced her own way. Poor
Beatrice; she was proud and pretty,
and not accustomed to be sighted.
She disliked it very much, indeed, and
was angry; but the worst of 1t was, it
hurt her, too. She found Graswater
slow and persuaded her father to move
on elsewhere. She was furious with
herself to find tears in her eyes when
she left. Thank goodness, that dis.
agreeable Mr.. Ferrand was not there
to seel
It was late October, and Trix sat
with rather startled eyes staring into
the fire, digesting piece of news Just
given her by her father; that Mr.. Fer
rand was the new tenant at the Manor
House, and that he had accepted the
Rector's unceremonius invitation to
dine that night at the Reotory. Was
she pleased? She would have been.
were it not for the memory of that
last week at the lakes-but now? She
made q poor attempt to believe that
she was quite indifferent very poor
little attempt indeed.
Christmas came and went. Mr.. Fer.