Waterbury evening Democrat., 1903-11-03

man. orchard rose toward the house, an or derly array of fine old trees, wide spreading, gnarled and sturdy.
 Tn the midst of it I could with diff ficulty descry the lodge, picturesque and inviting, built round giant apple tree and shaded by the incredibly broad expanse of it's branches. There seemed to be rude veranda on the side toward the lake, a place where man might sit and smoke and forget any girl that ever existed.
 That's where I live" said to the horse earnestly and confidentially; under that tree. My meals are brought out to me by a gagged slave, and any boarder who calls upon me gets shot,"
 The farmhouse itself might have at tracted me in ordinary conditions. It was series of low houses that had grown with the demand. They were connected, but each seemed to have its separate entrance, with a spacious por- tico, vine clad and cool. But the best of it was that not a human creature was in sight. The house had many W4A0O"1 AuAS OpCA tO tAG EWEGL JUAC air and beyond doubt was we'll ten anted, yet no one was visible. I fan cied the people to be wandering in the grove beyond the house or in the trees that bordered the lake, each man or woman solitary, absorbed in gentle reflection.
 AS drove up to that entrance which seemed to appertain to the managing part of the establishment - for the kitchen was back of that section of the house, and 1t looked to be the oldest very quiet boy came out and regard ed me without interest or curiosity. I set him down as a model child.
 My friend" said I, twill you tell Mrs. Witherspoon that I would like to see herT'
 He turned without word and went into the house. Presently a young wo- man came out to say that Mrs. Wither- spoon was in the garden, and she made 8 gesture which indicated that that was far away. She spoke with hush ed voice appropriate to the place, and could have thanked her for 1t.
 If it's anything about living here," said she after a restful pause, "I can give you information. I'm Mrs. With erspoon's niece"
 l dismounted from the carriage and took seat in the porch. Immediately the quiet boy appeared from nowhere in particular and led my horse under the shade of an apple tree that stood beside the fence which marked off the orchard from the field. I observed that tho YNQfh 1po6ino +N IoIy beyond the fence. The orchard show ed no sign that any one passed through. There was faint path leading to the lodge, but it seemed not to go beyond.
 "Thats a very nice boy" said I. 'EWho is hep
 "Jim Lamofne," replied the young woman.
 half rose from my seat.
 ''Lamoine?" I echoed.
 "Yes," said she. He's an orphan. He and his sister are almost all that's left of the family"
 His sisterG'
 "Anna," said my companion in that calm, emotionless voice which suited so well with the rural calm of the scene.
 ''It isn't possible" said, ''that he is Anna Lamoine's brother"
 'Why not?" asked the girl gently.
 "I beg your pardon" said I. 'It hap pens that I have met Miss Lamoine. James doesn't resemble her."
 ''I always thought they looked very much alike," she replied.
 "No more than I look like that apple tree" l protested. "I met Miss La moine in New York recently"
 Visiting the Cushings" murmured Miss Witherspoon.
 "Yes," said I. "She was there. They're friends of mine. By the way, where is Miss Lamoine nowf"
 T don't know" was the reply.
 "Of course her brother knowsw
 T don't think so. You can ask him"
 Somehow she spoke as if there were m.n..x.~ ,~~vve4axsv iyt Apna T4nmnfnHy@