Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1909-09-21

one way she will another. If he cross
es her she faints. If they quarrel, as
often happens, she faints. One has tc
keep a smelling bottle in every pocket
when she is here. Then, there's heI
niece, Miss Lucy, after the same pat
tern. No wonder Mr.. Serle is glad to
live apart from them"
All this with such volubility as quite
to take Sibyl's breath.
You must not" she said. "Mr. VAR
neck would not like to have you tell
such things to a stranger"
"As to that, everybody knows it, as
1 said before" answered Patty, stub
bornly. There are things that can't
be hid. Mr. Varnecks odd ways are
the town talk. He's out half the night
often riding through the woods OF
sailing on the lake, or he's in dark
room below stairs playing his grand
organ till ones head Is ready to crack
There's no end to the freaks he takes
since his affair with that low person
Certainly it's known, miss, far and
near" and Patty ratified on till Sibyl
fell back among the pillows and closed
her weary eyes. The girls monoton-
Gus voice laid the demon Of her tor
ment and she slept.
On awakening late the next morning
Sibyl found the air Of the chamber
STEPPED in perfumes. Faint currents
of sweetness puffed across her as she
lay. 1t was as If a flash Of Eastern
odors had been spilled in the somewhat
gloomy chamber. She looked and saw
perched on a tall stand by the bed a
basket heaped with orchids and daph-
mes, thick petaled, cream-like roses
and matted heaps Of mignonette, tine
most unpretending flower that ever
hived honey.
"Oh!" murmured Sibyl, drawing a
deep, exhaustive breath, and feeling As
her nostrils.
Mrs. Hare came quickly forward.
Il don't approve of flowers in a sick
room," she said, curtly, but Mr.. Var
neck would have them sent up. If you
like, I'll ring for Patty, and We'll lift
you out on the sofa today. I've brought
you a wrapper of Miss Varneck's. You
are 1 should say, about her size"
She put down on the bed a white
morning gown with pink ribbons.
Patty was called in, a sofa wheeled
to the fire and Sibyl placed among It's
cushions, where she made a piece OF
deep color fit for a Rembrandt's pen
Gil.
Bring me a bit of the mignonette
will you not?" she said to Mrs. Hare
How good of Mr.. Varneck to send it!
Miss Angus always had a box growing
at st. Catharines. 1t seems like an old
friend"
1t was a lonesome day, full of chilly
scud and lingering clouds. All with
out seemed unutterably cheerless, al
within marvelously bright by contrast
Sibyl dozed and dreamed the long
nOuIS away uIlulSluTDeu, HcSteu like
bird among her soft cushions, with
Mrs Hare knitting monotonously neal
by. The deep, mysterious dark fell
early-dropped down like pail in the
cvergreens outside the window.
Nothing but the freight lit the
chamber where Sibyl lay in the midst
Of her daphne and mignonette odors
like the Sleeping Beauty awaiting the
princes kiss. Her white wrapper flow
ed in statuesque folds along the sofa
everything the girl wore caught
something always of her supers air
Her pale, dark face, with its magnif-
cent eyes and ripe, sweet mouth, lean
ed back among the cushions. Over
her shoulders showered her hair in
tangled richness of curl and ripple
its lustrous lengths threaded with the
sultry tints of the fire. Lying thus
Sibyl suddenly lifted her languid lids
and saw q figure standing in the shad-