The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1898-10-12

Medora had marked Mr.. Ballard for
her own prey, and declared war upon
any unfortunate pretender who should
come in her way.
"Perhaps," said Mrs. Dallas, hope
fully, she'll never inquire about her
at ALL"
"Don't you believe it," said Bell,
with significant nod.
Rell was right. The very first even
ing that Mr.. Ballard called he inquired
for Miss Raymond. Medora dropped
her long lashes.
"Rosabel had a cold, reserved ma
ture," she said. "She never seemed
to become fond of any of us, and she
has gone away"
"Gone where2" Mr.. Ballard was
persistent enough to ask.
"She said she would write and send
us the address," said Medora, draw
ing on imagination; "but she never
did. 1t quite went to dear mammals
heart. Mamma regarded Rosabel as
fourth daughter. But Rosabel never
was inclined to reciprocate our affec-
tion."
Mr.. Ballard glanced at Medora with
an expression which che could not in
terpret, but it meant simply:
eff this girl is lying, she's doing it
very arlistically. Appearances are
certainly against Rosabel Raymond;
but it would take more than the testi-
mony of one girl to make me believe
her either cold or ungrateful."
These reflections passed through his
mind as he was politely accepting Miss
Dallas invitation to accompany her to
Mrs. Whitworth Walkingham's musical
tea, the next day.
cit will be bore" he said to him
self; ''but Mrs. Whitworth Walking
ham is genius, and there will be sure
to be good music there"
There was good music there, and
also delicious tea, in the tiniest cups,
each painted with separate wild
flower or bunch of grasses; cake, ices
and white grapes following the bsrcaro.
las and rondolettas-and all went merry
as marriage bell, until in turning to
place a chair nearer the window for
Miss Dallas, Mr.. allard'sIunfortunate
elbow knocked one of the priceless
cups off the carved shelf of the Japa-
nese cabinet and broke it into three
pieces.
"Mrs. Whitworth Walkingham will
commit suicidel" cried Medora, clasp
ing her hands with simulated terror.
81 swear you to eternal secrecyw
said Mr.. Ballard, laughing, as he
wrapped the pieces in the pocket
handkerchief and disposed them safely
in his pocket. "If there is store in
New York, Brooklyn or Jersey City
where this precious toy can be matched
it shall not be left unsearched."
For every one, Mr.. Ballard includ.
ed, knew that Mrs. Whitworth Walk
ingham was almost monomaniac on
the subject of her china; and he was
really more deeply chagrined than he
appeared to be.
You can't match it," said Medora
Dallas.
And she proved to be right.
In his disdain Hugh Ballard went to
old Mrs. Megarreau, who was exactly
like everybody's fairy godmother.
"What am 1 to dor" he said, blankly.
"Do?" said Mrs. Megarreau, nod
ding the diamond butterflies on her
cap. "Why go to the china painting
huu ucCOIdtluS IOOLuos VI COuIcc, III
Hammersely Square. Take your sam
pie, and they'll duplicate it for you in
twenty-four hours. Say that Mrs. Me-
garreau sent you.
Mr.. Ballard devoutly thanked the
old lady, and obeyed without loss of
time.
1t was huge, airy room, with the
windows all glorifed with winter SUM-
shine, and a soft Steamboat modifying
the rigor of the February air, where
half dozen young women were work
ing at large table. Mrs. Baker, the
superintendent, who eat at her desk,
took the pieces of Mrs. Whitworth
Walkinghsm's doomed cup and looked
earnestly at them, with her head on
one side.
"We have that shape in our wares"
said she; "and am quite sure that we
can reproduce the design-blue iris
buds and marsh grasses. Miss Ray
mond's designs are some OF them even
more exquisite than this. Rosabel, my
dear, come here"
And Rosabel Raymond, pale and
pretty as ever, came forward in her
brown linen painting-dress, with her
lovely chestnut-brown hair pushed
back from her face. Mrs. Baker was
holding out the bits of fractured china,
whereon were painted the blue iris
buds and dropping grasses, but Rosa
hal never lOOked at than