The Saint Paul globe., 1899-03-05

If it was in the depths Of winter 1 shouldn't
grupble, but in July, and shut up in poky
lodgings at the seaside, and when we are
going away tomorrow, too!'-and Sylvia
Bathurst walked to the window and gazed
disoonsolately over the grey and angry waves
which came tumbling up on the beach.
II have read all the books from the library.
/ wish 1 had asked Harry or Mr.. Etherldge
to get me another"
'sThey will all have to be sent back tomor
row morning; it is hardly worth While TO
change them now.
"Oh, but I think it is. Hark! there is
Harrys voice." Sylvia cried. 81 wonder if
he would mind going back again before he
takes off his northumberland she flew out
on the landing to intercept her brother.
But Harold Bathurst objected very strong
ly. He was wet, tired, and muddy, and dis
tinctly refused to trudge to the other end of
the town for other reason than supply
his sister with a new novel. -
You must wait till the afternoon; it will
probably clear then,n and you can go your
self; besides, how am I to know what you
have read already? he asked GROSSLY.
Il could have given him a list" Sylvia said,
as she went back into the sitting room and
recounted her failure to her sister.
my dear, you might lave learnt by this
time that Harry is not of those devoted
brothers who will Walk mile in drenching
rain to oblige his sister, said Isabel. You
should have asked Mr.. Etheridge if you want
ed anything of the kind; politeness would
have compelled him to grant your request"
HE was not there; he has not in
yet" Sylvia grumbled and at last went off to
her own room, to Isabel's infinite relief.
The Bathursts were well-to-do people, who
lived for the most part of the time in the
neighborhood of Manchester, where their
father owned a cotton mill, but as some
drainage was going on at their own home,
the two girls had been despatched to Sea-
burne under the care Of their only brother,
while old Mr.. Bathurst had taken up his
abode at his Office in Manchester, which in
his heart he much preferred to his large and
handsome villa residence.
Harold was nominally a partner in the busi-
ness-that is to say, he went to the office and
factory often as it suited him, and was
never averSe to dra wing his pay, but his edu-
cation at Eaton and Oxford had not imbued
him with love for the cotton trade, and he
managed to do a good Geal of hunting and
fishing, and to spend month or two in town
every spring.
Isabel was engaged to be married to
clergyman, and they were only waiting till
the autumn, when he expected to be appoint
ed to a family living in Yorkshire; and
Sylvia, who just nineteen, was enjoying
every ball and party that came in her way
with all the zest of youth and beauty, and
sense Of popularity that she found very
pleasant
A few days before this story opens Harold
Bathurst had come across an old Eton friend
of his, Maxwell Etheridge, who had come to
Seaburne for week, and whom he intro
duced to his sisters. Since then Mr.
Etheridge had passed most of his time with
the BathurStS, ana 1t was ne VINO had plan
ned a delightful excursion for this, their last
day at Seaburne. They were all to have sail
ed to the Kirkham Docks, about three miles
away and to have picnicked there, spent
the afternoon fishing, and returned to Sea-
burne in time for dinner.
But the sudden change in the weather put
a stop to all this, and hence Sylvia's crossness
and restlessness, for she was beginning to
find Maxwell Etherdge's society very agree
able and to build casrles in the air with regard
to her own future, beside which Isabeps
humble rectory seemed very commonplace
isn't it horrid? Are not you disappoint-
ed?" she exclaimed, as Mr.. theridge entered
their sitting room in Harrington Terrace.
Yes, it's very tiresome,' he replied, rather
absently, and then, turning to Harold, he
asked-'Who are the people lodging down