The Two Vanrevels

en muslin illustrated with huge red flowers, came out upon the porch and waved a fat arm to the girl. The visitor wore a dark-green turban and a Cashmere shawl, while the expanse of her skirts was

which she somehow imparted to her whole dominion lessened that by at least a hundred-weight. She ballooned out to the horse-block with a billowy rush somewhere between

merriment and unction of delight, that it fell upon Miss Betty's ear with more of the quality

were covered with flashing rings. "Oh, but you are a true blue Beauty! You're a Princess! I am Mrs. Tanberry, Jane

aid Betty hesitatingly. "I s

light-mindedest woman in the universe, and anyone who obeyed me would be embroiled in everlasting t

or you to obey yourself; a body sees that at the first blush. You have conscience in your forehead and rebellion in you

h obeying; there'll be time enough for that wh

husband-once," the lady resumed, "but only once, my friend! He had ideas like your father's-your father is such an imbecile!-and he thought that wives, sisters, daughters, and such like ought to be obedient: that is, the rest of th

patted the girl's shoulder, her small eyes beaming quizzically. "We'll have the gayest house in Rouen, ladybird! The young men all go to the Bareauds', but they'll come here now, and we'll have the Bareauds along with 'em. I've been away a long time, just finished unpacking yesterday night when your father came in after the fire-Whoo! what a state he was in with that devilish temper of his! Didn't I snap him up when he asked me to co

; and the day, so discordantly begun for Miss Betty, grew musical with her own laughter, answering the husky staccato of the vivacious newcomer. Nelson waited upon them at table, radiant, his smile like the keyboard of an ebony piano, an

themselves under the severe restraint of allowing three days to elapse after their introduction to Miss Carewe before they "paid their respects at the house;" but, be that as it may, the dictator was now safely under way down the Rouen River, and Mrs. Tanberry reigned in his stead. Thus, at about eight o'clock that evening, the two lad

a cyclone, and, dashing at the candles, "Blow 'em out, blow 'em out!" s

, as she rose to her feet. The can

. "My goodness, child precious, those vagabonds are her

abonds!" she chuckled. "I knew they'd come! It's the beautiful Tappingham Marsh with his fiddle, and young Jeff Bareau

the more effective chords obligingly drawn out as long as the breath in the singers could hold them, in order to allow the two fair

een stifled gusts of almost uncontrol

at to me were so dear

"And I expect between us we can get up some more.

on his way to St. Louis,

roved, Let me believe that you love a

. Tanberry, encouraging the minst

mself, while the others too frankly expressed adverse opinions upon the value of the offering. The argument became heated, and in spite of many a "Sh!" and "Not so loud!"

ently, was not to be b

he was permitted to ad

delivered himself, in a

morbid instructions, t

so execrable, and so e

subsequent charge t

ention could never be

Forge

hould

brow a sha

me, and,

mile and s

I may not b

I may neve

ul with pl

this gloo

le to stop with the slight expression of pleasure demanded by the songst

owed by as hearty a dancing of Dan Tucker. After that, a quadrille being proposed, Mrs. Tanberry suggested that Jefferson should run home and bring Fanchon for the fourth lady. However, Virginia explained that she had endeavored to persuade both her sister and Mr. Gray to accompany the

nd but too quickly, to join the ghosts of all the other evenings since time began; and each of the little company had added a cheerful sprite to the long rows of those varied shades that the after years bring to revisit us, so many with pathet

misty garden. Low but resonant chords sounded on the heavier strings of a guitar, while above them, upon the lighter wires, rippled a slender, tinkling melody that wooed the slumberer to a delicious half-wakefulness, as dreamily, as tenderly, as the croon of rain on the roof soothes a child to sleep. Under the artist's

w, yet gallant and clear, a vibra

I know some lovelorn hearts that beat In time to moonbeam twinklings fl

ght? I know some sighing lads that say Their hearts were snared and torn

olyte? I know a broken heart that went To serve you but as orn

audible in the distance The guitar could be heard for a moment or two more, then silence came again. It was

awake? Did you he

, faltering voice: "Yes-if it was one. I thought perh

nade that you did not laugh at. Beautiful, I wouldn't let it go any farther, even while your father is gone. Something might occ

ed Miss Betty, quickly. "It

ouches the guitar and lifts up his voice to sing, there isn't an angel in heaven that wouldn't quit the place and come to hear him! Crailey wrote those words to Virginia Bareaud. (Her hair is even darker than yo

t it belonged to Mr. Crailey Gray, who had been too ill, a few hours earlier, to leave the Bareaud house, and now,

ing strings! He might risk his life all he wished at the end of a grappling-ladder, dangling in a fiery cloud above nothing;

s Betty held in bitter contempt and scorn, it