The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1897-07-15

from such an accomplished musician as
yourself-by the way, perhaps you
would like to know that you have rem
dered that two-step just 81 times in my
hearing, and that you drag the time so
it always puts me to sleep"
She drew herself up Indignantly. 81
have not asked your opinion, Mr.. Ham
mond And, on second thought, 1 beg
OF you not to stop playing the violin on
my account. You certainly need all the
practice you can get
Thank you" he retorted, imper-
turbably. II believe in educating the
musical tastes of my neighbors And
do keep on with the piano, without re-
gard for our feelings-you may succeed
in conquering that two-step before the
year is out"
Good night, Mr. Hammond"
Good night, Miss Johnson"
And then those two foolish young
people went their different ways, he
to kick over the footstool and murmur:
"The little viXen!" under his breath;
she TO sit for a long and lonely hour
on the sitting-room sofa, with her
hands clasped and her eyes fixed med
itatNely upon the crimson roses strag-
Cling over the carpet. At the end of
that time she arose and dismissed the
subject with defiant little gesture.
It's just as well. We'd have quarreled
all our life" she said.
And the violin and the piano CON
tinued to make life a burden for the
other jewellers in that apartment house.
| To anyone not acquainted with the in
centive that rivalry gives the progress
of the musicians would have been re-
markable. Lucille changed about her
scholars in china painting to give her
two hours at home in the middle of the
day and practiced assiduously. And in
the evenings the curate of the neighbor-
| ing Church-who called four times n
week and would have called eight if he
had received sufficient encouragement
brought over his cornet and Joined
her in duets. Hammond, having found.
to his great modification, that Lucile's
version of "O1- Promise Me" was the
correct one, changed his piece de resist
aHce to "Henrietta," and took an in
sane delight in playing the melody Just
when the curate was putting in his very
best solo effects.
But the curate, poor deluded man,
was living in an atmosphere of such
ecstatic happiness that he wasn't an
noyed in the least. Never before had
Lucille treated him so graciousIy.
| 40 10 I Il, al l.
terest in the Sunday-schoolo or so longed
for information about the missions.
And though on certain occasions he
was treated to rapid and startling
variation in mood, and beheld his atten-
tive listener metamorphosed into an
absent-minded and distract damsel. he
was not an observing man. and failed
utterly to associate this change with
the slamming of a front door and the
appearance on the street of a tail
young man in light overcoat.
One night on their way home from a
concert-the only dissipation which the
curate ever INDUCED in-they met the
same light-overcOated young man. this
time in cycling costume. accompany
ing girl with a pink and white com
PleNiOn, who had not yet attained such
proficiency in the art of wheeling that
her escort was able to take his hand
from the handle-bar
"a pretty girl" remarked the curate,
as they passed.
Pretty enough; but until I could
ride well enough to ride by myself
wouldn't ride at all" snapped out Luz
cile, rather unreasonable.
April came and went: and il was on
one warm afternoon in May when Aunt
Henrietta had been bundled off to a
relative in Staten Island for a breath of
fresh air, that Hammond and Lucille met
again. He was standing in the second
story hall, cleaning his bicycle, and
Whistling refectively to himself.
She hurried past to keep hi, ON
seeing the foolish tears that were lind
ing her eyes.
Hes going wheeling again with her,
| suppose she said bitterly to herself.
She has everything now. Wealth and
beauty and-love. Well, perhaps she de-
serves good fortune. and II never lid -
That was as she was inserting the KEY
in the lock. The next moment she
sprang back-outside the door-her
hands clasped, her breath coming in
gasps. There was a man in her room!
There could be no mistake-a man. re-
posing comfortably in the easiest chair
of the darkened apartment, and sleep
ing heavily.
She didn't scream. She thought of her
Observation-Disclosures, who, in 1915,
had guarded her house against a whole
regiment of British soldiers. Then she
went to the head of the stairs. leaned
over the banisters, and called softly:
"Mr. Hammond. Mr.. Hammond"
Were you speaking to me?" he in
quired, appearing at the foot of the
stairs.
'Who else should | be speaking top
demanded Lucille, with a little pardon
able irritation. (When one is acting the
part of a heroine, these trivial inquiries
are out of place.. There's burglar in
my room"
"A burglar.' cried Walter, incredu-
lousy.
Don't call the police. He's fast asleep
I think he must have been pursued i'm