Year: 1877




l1ounsloW's life Thinking, when Law
renee was small of the beauty of a little
girl, too, with her curs running out in
rings under the lace and ribbons OF her
cap, she had been obliged to change the
thought to that of the maiden who should
become Lawrences bride, and give her
all the comfort and none of the care of Il
daughter.


She had always been a lonesome body;
;ln orphan at first, and then SO few ye.ls
a wife before she was Il widow, with hcr
unluly boy at school and she had looked
We'd them the companionship, the oppor-
tunity Of making charming dresses for
the pretty darlings the power to live
their lives over again in their girls.


When Lawrence came home to stay she
had, of course. much comfort in him and
if the young man "enjoyed his t1ng,' she
knew nothing about it. Yet Lawrence's
Cling was not Il bad one, as filings 60
He drank his wine with moderation, from
epicurism-it was SO pleasant he did not
wish it to pail he drove a fast horse, and
he loved Il game dinner When the eX-
ubcrance of youth passed, he would set
tie into Il respectable citizen with Il bank
account. TO her eyes, to-day, he was a
paragon.


Settle. But not alone. 1t followed as
the night the day that Lawrence would
mallN-t very pretty girl or a very rich
one. Neither would be to Mrs. lIollns-
lows taste the pretty girl hardly the
companion she sought for herself, the
highty head turned by vanity, the appe-
tite Unsuitable for ilattery; and the rich
one mastering Lawrence and conse-
quently herself. She had chosen herself
a charming young girl, with as sweet a
nature lis ever shonc out of a blue eve
she frequently had her there, although to
no effect, except in her own dreams. In
what dreams Mrs. Hounslow indulged by
the evening fire apropos of Louise Man
dell, Somehow the young orphan girl
always seemed sitting on the other side
of the fire, its light dancing in her eyes,
on her dimpling smile; and sometimes
Mrs. Hounslow saw that light glance on
a little golden wedding ring, and some
times on a little golden nesting head:
and Lawrence was always standing on
| the rug between the two, looking. with
equal tenderness in his dark eyes, at one
side and at the other. That was her
evening dream. In the morning Louise
moved about the house with her. cutting
flowers, filling vases, connecting choice
dishes what a mother in-laW she would
make. How happy she was going to be
in this dear daughter, She had even
gone so far us to buy an open phnton in
this dream for Louise to drive her out in
on sunny evenings, and was Just settling
on the color of the tringcd Silken canopy
when she awolIc to see that Louise was a
cipher beside that great luxurious, hazel
eyed and hateful blonde, Flora Furlong.


Mrs. IlounsloW's son and a Furlong
There was no worse blood in the land:
money enough; family enough and vet
nothing too unscrupulous of which to
suspect the men too selfish, silly slov-
emily, stupid, spiteful, Of which to accuse
the women.


Young men do not pause to think of
such things. What Flora Furlong could
work out us to his salvation did not occa-
sion Lawrence a thought, but her lumi-
nous black dashed eyes, with their long,
white lids and the way she had of lifting
them, her melting mouth and velvet skin,
her hair like tine-spun gold, her luXurl-
Gus flesh all that was fascination; and
if he was not passionately in earnest, he
was in Il fair way to be So ''Why, she's
nothing but clay, leaf clay, flesh and
blood. | don't believe she has soul, or
any thing that answers for one." cried
Mrs. Hounslow to herself. "a Fullong
never did"


Flora Furlong to fill the measure in
these dreams of hers to make her boN $
home. If he was to have a wife, she was
to have Il daughter; and the daughter
was to be her acquisition or her burden
all day long, and Lawrencc's delight but
an hour or tWo-Lawrence's burden, too,
instead of his blessing, by-and-by, if it
should be the Furlong. And she had as
good right to assert her will as he had to
assert his; she knew the best and were
not she and Lawrence one, after all so
ran her reverie.


Foolish Mrs. Hounslow The wind
blowetE where it lsteth and you might
us well try to turn that wind back Whith-
er it came 10y blowing against it, us to
turn the young mans fancy by any breath
Of yours.


1t was Flora by whose side Lawrence
was ever to be seen. 1t pleased his sense
OF beauty to look ut her; it pleased his
sense OF pride to be seen with her: it fed
his budding passion to feel the magniti-
cent creature by his side. He squan-
dered his money in flowers, and books,
and music, and the like. She wore the
flowers; but when with her it never oc-
cured to him that the leaves of the books
were uncut, and rs for the music, he was
in that state when a frog, if it had been
as beautiful us Flora, would have croaked
divinely.


But Mrs. Hounslow was not a woman
to endure without a struggle She called
some wisdom to council She did not eN-
press personally the slightest dissatisfac-
ton with Flora, but she allowed other
people to speak disrespectfully of her
knowing the force Of public opinion she
took care to admit her beauty, although
in the same breath telling some incident
al tradition to the dscredit Of her fami-
ly; and she was very hosptable to two
fat old toothless aunts of Flora's, dwell
ling with sympathy afterwards on their
loss of the beauty of youth, and the ex-
act likeness between their youth and
Flora's. 81 suppose" said Mrs Houns-
low, ''that Flora will look just like them
twenty years away. Well, it is something
to have had beauty, if one does become
little less than a whale. What a fate, to
see ones self turning to blubber. Per
haps 1t would be worse, though, to see
another, il you cared. By-the-way, Flora
called here this afternoon. She had the
loveliest enamel belt buckle; she can
wear one the size of a spread eagle"
Then his mother looked up at him with
a twinkle that could hardly help being
contagious "Ah ah !" she said "what
a thing it is to be Lawrence Hounslow's
mother. | have all the pretty girls de-
claring me the most delightful old woman. .
But suppose | must leave choice"


"When | marry, mother" Lawrence
Indignantly began.


"You will suit yourself and me, too.
Dear mew she went on, ~ had almost
forgotten; your cousin Fanny is coming,
poor thing, and l am inviting all these
girls to come and make it cheerful for