Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1899-08-03

occurred to him. With as carelessly in
different manner as he could assume he
said:
"By the way, Dolly, how soon is Sylvia
to be married to Mr.. GrantleyY'
'Mr. Grantleyw she repeated, opening
her big, black eyes to their widest extent.
"Who is he? Oh, you mean Cousin Grant
ley Leland, do you not?"
''Your cousin!" cried Dave, with an in
slant rise of spirits "Is he that lad grown
to be man? Why, surely, now | know
it!''
Dolly laughed.
81 have often wondered why you treated
poor Grantley in such high and mighty
style. And so you've been jealous of him
all this time, have you, Dave? You should
have asked me about Mr.. Grantley' be-
forew
She laughed again more heartily, and
Dave sat up straight.
''Oh, you needn't look so uncomfortable
nor scowl at me-" she went on, as frankly
as Sylvia herself might have done ten
years before. ''It is easy for everybody
to see that you are desperately fond Of
Sylvia"
Dave blushed up to his hair. What had
always appeared SO charming to him in
Sylvia did not seem at all so in her young
sister. He got away from her as soon as
he could, and walked home thoroughly out
Of humor with himself and with life in
general.
He was fully determined now to have
done once for all with the miserable bust
ness Of loving any one, his mother alone
excepted, and he set about his task with
an energy worthy of better cause. Syl-
Was stay extended far beyond its original
limit. Two-three-four months rolled by
and still she did not come back. This was
great help to Dave in one way and
sad hindrance in others. But his resolu-
ton did not wayer. He forced himself
to speak Of her to his mother, to discuss
her characteristics, to criticise her actions
until he was able to assure himself that
he could meet her as unconcernedly as ne
did Dolly or Mistress Esther. And one
fine April day his new capabilities were
tried He had started for the grist mill,
ride of several miles. He passed the Lee
land house, never suspecting that Sylvia
had arrived late the afternoon before and
was peeping out of her window. She saw
the bags in his wagon, and knew exactly
how long it would probably be before ne
could get home. She lost no time in put
ting on her sunbonnet and going over to
see his mother. The two had not been
chatting long when a neighbor ran IN
breathlessly.
ooh, Mistress Townsend, can you come
right over? Little Andrew has burned
himself terribly, and there's nobody to
stay with his mother while hitch up and
go for the doctorv'
Without waiting for an answer the ex-
cited woman rushed away. Mistress
Townsend looked at the pies she was max
ing.
give just put the first batch in the
! oven," she said, ruefully.
''I'll finish them for you" replied Syl-
via ''You go right along!'
"Well, I will then, for Susan Bennett
won't know anything what to do
1t was very still in the pleasant kitchen
after she had gone. Sylvia finished the
pies and cleared everything away and
then sat down to knit few rounds on
stocking for Dave which she saw lying on
his mothers work basket. She blushed 81
little as she took it up.
''No one will ever know she said,
softly.
She thought of many things as she sat
there, fair picture of womanly grace;
of Delight, from whom no word had come
back or ever was to come; Of Archie; of
Gilbert; Of her lovely sister Desire, living
her beautiful, unselfsh, incomplete life
so bravely; of Dolly, so like Delight in
many ways; of herself, whose outward
merry, gladstone behavior concealed q hid
den secret heavy to be borne, and, most
Of all, Of Dave, her hero.
All at once she heard his voice outside
the open door, coming nearer with each
word.
"Whiteface cast a shoe, mother, and
went so lame had to turn back and-oh,
how are you to-day, Mistress Sylvia?
Where is my motherY
He came forward and held out his hand,
trying to put his fine theories into practice
and to appear very calm. 1t was a hard
thing to do, for he had supposed her to be
still in Boston, and the unlooked-for sight
of her charming self, sitting there in his
mothers chair so entirely at home, had set
him trembling for joy. And what of all
things was she doing but knitting on his
sock? He managed to keep his voice fair
~ steady, but his eyes rebelled, utterly,
and Sylvia, springing UP and trying in
vain to cover her work with her hands,
glanced up just in time to see them telling
again their eloquent, sweet story.
Il am most pleased to see you safely
come from your visit in Boston," he con-
tinued, sedately, as if addressing Mistress
Salome herself.
Sylvia made no response to this friendly
greeting. She scarcely heard it or his fur
Their courteous remarks in her struggle
for composure.
why, oh! why" she was saying to
herself, desperately, ''if he looks at me SO,
does he act in such different way? T.
wish he would go off-oh, dear mer'
She said this last aloud in genuine dis
may, for she felt that her eyes were brim-
ming with tears. One large, clear drop
oyerfowed and rolled slowly down the