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Show Tolley she is a reelect mo! her to the whole lot of us. The babies have a treasure of a nil '.x too a sensibla middle-aged woiaaa; so on the whole I dare say we shall rub along very well." "I don't believe in any servants being be-ing treasures," remarks Ruby skeptically; skepti-cally; "and, besides, your children must be too eld now to be left entirely entire-ly to the charge of servants." "Do you think so?" asks Mr. Charnpley in a pondering tone. "That is what I have been rather afraid of myself. Bob Is just seven, and poos little Meg five." f (To be Continued.) . I,,,1"'. . , f. ".". 7'." 'r- ?' r, II Erf t! f A ROMANCE; B VV liiri,!iWiillo & 7v77Tr7vTiHn7" iinderTheunlbat 1 ,il;er ?si5s Ted at last, in a VOU UO UKt . t.-no io'-e of do'l-craiion. Oh res. several things' answeis Sbe'l 'briskly. "Let me see"-rehec-Uvelv-"I 'ike work, and reading, and I am' awfully fond of gooseberry-tart Ted bursts into such a hearty pea of laughter that Ruby-who is engaged in singing a trio with VI and Robe Champley-give utterance to a false note Shell, after a futile effort to control con-trol 'her trembling Hps, joins in his merriment. Xo- but, seriously," he says, when thev have both done laughing, "you must have, I know, a few artistic tasts I remember you used to play some very jolly pieces, so you must be fond of music." Shell shakes her head m a despondent despon-dent manner. "Xo " she answers carelessly, ' I have no talent for anything in particular. Of course I play a little and I sketch a little- but I do nothing well enough for it to be pleasing to anybody but mvself." "How do you know that if you never rive your friends the chance of judg-iV-" asks Ted, still trying to strike some spark of emotion out of this stolid maiden. "Oh they are quite at liberty to jude 'for themselves if they like, only nobody wants to hear me play twice!" answers Shell, in a tone of friendly warning. "Will you let me hear you play once?" asks Ted eagerly. "Oh, certainly, if you wish; OTtly won't 'it be rather cruel infliction for everybody else?" says Shell naively. "No, I am sure it won't," answers her companion, in a voice of such utter -onfidence that puckers of amusement gather around Shell's lips after the most wicked fashion. Great is Ruby's consternation and annoyance when she leaves the piano to see Shell down on her knees beside the music-stand, turning over the loose music in the drawer. "Surely you are not going to play?" she exclaims, in a tone of mingled disapproval dis-approval and annoyance, for Ruby's music is her one strong point, and she hates to be cast into the shade by her "Ah, but .--.- Is :.: abroad f3- tsr , health; and U so'. J? because fca msut no?.- take c;itir:;3 of the children himns'.f t!.i.t he is coating home!" rejoins re-joins Ruhr, with a triumi.hau gle2J3 In her fine brown eyes. i "Wo'.l, I sup; .-? it its easy enough to get (-nr.'ir'tn. itches when one ha? plenty of mir.r-y," s .ys and then, dismis.-tinj the sui.j'-et vl.h an irapa- j tiont s!.ni3 cf h :-r .-.k-.c:M :s, she asks. hcl-Jin? up a Inns narrow piece of t!s- sue pa;;?r, "V.";'.! you have your back I cut la four par:5 or si:-:?" j Ruby's mind ei-.oa Clw-vAs to the j praciict-I, advancing to the table, she at cr.ee enters into the most minute Instructions for the culling out of her dress. "I think this rale sateen such a sweet shade," she says, holding up a bit of the material admiringly. "I have half a mind to get a pale pink, too." "If so, please look sharp!" remarks Shell, in a tone of anything but keen delight. "I like to get all the summer dresses over in one batch and not keep on at it for months." "But, my dear Shell," expostulates Ruby, "I thought you liked cutting ont and Citing. I am sure you always tell mamma so; besides, you are so clever at it." "Oh, I don't mind!" admits Shell, rather crossly. "Of course one of U9 must play at being fond of it, since we can't afford a maid. Only it does rather rath-er annoy me for any one to be so insane as really to imagine that I prefer working work-ing on a morning like 'this to being out of doors;" and she heaves a sharp little lit-tle sigh as she glances out at the waving wav-ing tender-green boughs of the newly-budded newly-budded trees. "Yvky that heart-rending sigh, my sweet sea-Shell?" ask3 a tall, willowy girl with blue eyes, who has just entered en-tered the room. As she speaks she lays her arm caressingly around the girl's firm shoulders. "She is quite overcome at the prospect pros-pect of cutting me out a second washing wash-ing dress," answers Ruby, in a tone which implies, "Hasn't she an unfortunate unfor-tunate temper?" ' "Oh, dear and I was just going to ask her to fix my buff print, because she Is so clever at that sort of thing!" says Violet, in a tone of consternation. "All right, Vi dear I adore cutting out," laughs Shell. "Bring your buff print by all means and any other material ma-terial that you can lay your hands on. 'In for a penny, in for a pound." It is a pity that we are not all three tie same figure in that case I could cut out half-a-dozen at the same time." "Do you seriously mean you would be kind enough to do more than one because there is my new flannel tennis- one dares to call her by her right name she flics into one of her tantrums." . - hp is of a practical turn of mind." laughs Vi; "she thinks Pearl too fanciful fanci-ful a name for a workaday mortal. I wonder what induced aunt to name you three 2irls after precious stones?" : "I really can't say," returns Ruby j rather coldly; "perhaps the same rea-son'that rea-son'that induced your mother to name vou Violet." "Oh, I was called Violet because my surname is Flower!" explains Vi, a shadow stealing over her face as her thoughts fly back to her lost mother. "It used to be a joke of papa's that even when I married I should not cease to he a flower." "You are a flower of which I should be uncommonly afraid if you were not engaged," laughs Ruby. "Afraid why?" asks Violet, opening wide her blue eyes. "Because you are so terribly pretty," answers Ruby truthfully. Violet knows full well that she is pretty her mirror tells her so, morning, morn-ing, "noon and night yet she likes to hear it again, even if only from Ruby. So she waxes amiable, and gives her cousin a faithful promise that any show of forwardness on Shell's part shall be instantly suppressed. As Violet foresaw, however, there is little cause to fear any attempt at familiarity fa-miliarity on Shell's part. The girl has gleaned from Ruby's constant allusions to the Champleys since their return home that her elder sister contemplates with hopeful confidence the possibility of becoming mistress of Charnpley House. So disgusted does Shell feel at her sister's scarcely concealed scheme that she firmly resolves to adopt a line of conduct so totally at variance to that of Ruby that even the most obtuse man on earth must see at least that she has no desire to steal from him his free-ilom. free-ilom. Even when she hears that Ted Charnpley, the boy with whom she used to go blackberrying and nutting, is coming down with Robert, she makes up her sensible little mind to be civil to him nothing more. So, as the evening wears away, both brothers, after ineffectual attempts to hit on a congenial topic of conversation, conversa-tion, come to the conclusion that the younger daughter of the house is either somewhat deficient in intellect or has developed such an alarming spirit of contradiction that she is de- I cidedly a young woman to be avoided. avoid-ed. Ruby's amiable manner and social sympathy stand out in startling contrast con-trast to Shell's almost rough brusque-ness brusque-ness oi manner. Violet too does her utmost to render the evening a pleasant pleas-ant one for the brothers, whilst Mrs. Wilden backs them both up, as far as her natural want of energy will allow. "Do you remember those jolly times we used to have out blackberrying, and '.'1 ! A l'TKIt I. It wa.s a KlurioiiH :;jrin;; d.iy. The eld aak hall In the :v;.c;u:J hall at the WlldcrnftXH has jn.-.l niiu'iiuu'Cd slowly slow-ly to all tho:o whom it M.-r concern that ni-Krti is ,;i:it. A win the house has Bunk Into Htliiii'-;::, c;n ; for the di:;'.ant who of a frcli young vohe sinking, from vjry Kladncss of heart, at broken Intervals. Going down a long passage covered with frayed cocoanut ma1 ting and opening the thick oak door one cornea upon what p.eoma to be the only Inhabited In-habited room In the house. Hero again Is space ample space, and a lofty ceilingthough ceil-ingthough eerlnlnly, as regards any modern luxuries in the way of furniture, furni-ture, the apartment is bare enough. A faded drugget covers the center of the floor, eked out round the edge: by oil-cloth which litis long since failed to boast more than faint visions of pattern. An old square piano with a Bhort yellow keyboard stands open at one end of tho room littered with muslo; some hnlf-dozon chairs of no particular pattern, and most of them of an uncompromising nature, are hidden hid-den under snlpplngs of dark blue print and mysteriously-shaped pieces of lining; lin-ing; tho shabby old sofa Is also piled with various articles of feminine attire. at-tire. Roth windows are thrown as high ns the sashes will permit, so admitting tho genial sunshine and sweet flower-scented flower-scented air before one stands a very practical-looking sewing machine, before be-fore the other is an old wicker table etrewed with fashion-plates and paper I such a nui anr ei nui! why :-v.i!d one do crr.i.tirl-boy's voi k they are paid for it?" Shell makes no answer, but, bending bend-ing over the. tabic, begins to fit a tissue paper pattern on her stuff, making a scornful and etc; ressive grimace of contempt at her sister's aft'eetatiotl. "I know you dote on c?rryln( parcels; par-cels; but then you do so many things purposely to annoy that It is no use attempting at-tempting to stop you," continued Ruby, sighing gently. Shell still keeps silent, only smiling knowingly at her pattern as she twists It from side to side. "You were very wise not to go down into tho town this morning," Ruby goes on after a short pause. "Xot that there was much sense in the excuse ex-cuse that you hadn't time, for I see you have been wasting it In the grounds" pointing with her sunshade to a large vase full of lilac which stands in the center of the chimney piece. "It is so absurd to put flowers in this horrid old room." Shell turns her head sharply and smiles at the mauve and white plumes behind her. "I just couldn't resist them," she says softly. "I took a rush round the grounds before setting to work, and I felt I must bring a bit of sweetness back with me." Ruby is not listening to tho explanation; explana-tion; her eye3 are gazing absently through one of the open windows. "We heard some news in the town," she observes with a deliberate suddenness. sudden-ness. "Did vou?" returns Shell cnrelpsslv. younger sister. As a rule, Shell is wont to hide her light under a bushel, and it is provoking, to say the least, that jhe should depart from her usual course on the present occasion. "Oh, yes, I am going to play I have been asked!" responds Shell innocently. innocent-ly. With, a shrug of her shoulders Ruby passes on, whilst Shell, cr.lsTtins from the long disused contents of the drawer a dreary sing-song air, sits down at the piano and commences to wade laboriously la-boriously and in a very mechanical way through its twelve variations. It is a piece that requires practice and very quick playing to render it even bearable as Shell had never had patience pa-tience to read it quite through until this evening her performance is any thing but a brilliant one. t , - - ii ; CHAPTER III. Edward Charnpley, who has taken up his stand beside the piano in expectation ex-pectation of a musical treat, does his best to look cheerful under the infliction; inflic-tion; but his most determined efforts at politeness cannot prevent a faint gleam of hope stealing into his eyes at the end of each variation. Even once he ventures on a rapturous "Thanks!" it is when, to his horror, he sees a minor key arrangement of the air looming up before him; but Shell only glances up for a moment, and says quietly "Oh, I haven't half finished yet!" Whereupon her victim offers an apology apol-ogy and smiles a sickly smile, as he vainly tries to count how many more pages there are to get through. And, whilst Edward is enduring his self-inflicted martyrdom at one end of the room, his brother Robert is being flattered, petted and a little bit lectured lec-tured at the other end by Ruby. "It was really too bad of you to stop away from Charnpley House so long!" she says reproachfully. Robert Charnpley looks at her for a few moments before making any answer. an-swer. Unfortunately for Ruby's scheme, he is a man who generally stops to think before he speaks, even on trivial subjects. "I shouldn't have come back now if it hadn't been for the children," he says at length, with a sigh. Ruby catches the echo of that sigh and is all sympathy. "No one knows better than I how very painful your return home must have been to you," she remarks, in a low and almost faltering tone, whilst her white eyelids veil her eyes in seemingly sad retrospect. Again he looks at her; then somewhat some-what coldly gives utterance to the one word, "Thanks!" as if she had made him a speech which, though distasteful, distaste-ful, must be responded to in some way or other. "I hope you found the dear children all that you pictured them?" pursues Ruby softly. "Yes oh, yes; they are merry little crickets, and seem just about as happy as the day Is long!" answers Mr. Charnpley, whilst a softening smile relaxes re-laxes his somewhat eteru mouth. "It is a terrible charge for you" observes Ruby, her tone and looks full of the most profound pity. "How so?" asks her companion, in evident surprise. Ruby fcela somewhat taken aback. "Oh, it always seems to me such an impossible thing for a man to know about children's wants or ways'" SM9 replies, with a little head-shake. Robert Charnpley gives a slight laugh. "I assure you, boll, Rob and Meg have neither of then any scruples about expressing ,heir wants," ho savs I Sal , and, ns you know, I , VPry I ate In my UU1 housekeeper, M,-3 patterns. Dendlng over the solid table which Btands In the middle of the room Is Sholl Wilden. Sho Is at present making mak-ing a determined onslaught with a pair of formidable scissors on a section of the blue print before mentioned. She has ceased singing for the moment; her brows are slightly puckered, whilst her keen grey-grcen eyes follow anxiously anx-iously the line to be taken by her Ihears. There Is a decision and energy In every curvo of her girlish rounded figure as she leans over the work; tho right sleeve of her dark dress is pushed Dp nearly to the elbow to allow of free play, so disclosing a plump, rounded irm of almost snowy whiteness. Shell's fine pure white skin Is her ne personal attraction; but, as her sis-tor sis-tor Ruby often remarks, sho pays for It dearly, for Shell's complexion is ac-tompanled ac-tompanled by a wealth of wavy shimmering shim-mering red hair, faintly marked eyebrows, eye-brows, and a pair of eyes which are positively pale green In certain strong lights, though they deepen almost to nirple under strong emotion or in the reamy gloaming of a summer evening. She is a little below the middle height, possessing a round, childish face, with fyos that speak so often when her tongue Is wisely silent that her sister Ruby many a time takes umbrage at her expressive looks. She has just finished her critical piece of work, and Is again breaking Into unconscious song, when the door opens quickly, admitting a tall, graceful grace-ful woman of some thirty summers, whose light spring costume sets off her dark classical beauty to advantage. Ruby, for she It Is, differs from her sister as much In temperament and disposition as in form and expression. No stranger at first sight would have taken these two young women to be related, re-lated, yet such of their acquaintances who were addicted to the pursuit of psychological Inquiry were fond of pointing out that behind the widely different manifestations of the personality person-ality of each there was the same original orig-inal force and insistence. "Rid you get it?" questions Shell, pausing at her work, and looking a little lit-tle blankly at her sister's empty hands. "Get It! Get what?" asks Ruby, clearing a space upon the sofa, and sinking down upon it languidly. "Why, the tape, of course! I haven't tin Inch left; and how can I get on with the kiltlngs without tape?" cries Shell, with a pathetic ring in her voice. : "Dear me, your mind never seems able to soar above dress-making!" says Ruby, slightly shrugging her shoulders. "We got the tape all right fortunately Violet remembered it." "Has Vi got It. then?" asks Shell, In no way affected by her sister's low opinion of her intellect. "Got It!" sneers Ruby. "You surely don't imagine, child, that we are going go-ing to burdens ourselves with parcels on suoh a broiling day as this?" "I surely did not Imagine that even you would make any poor errand-boy tramp a whole mile to bring a few pleees of tape that would have fitted into your pocket If you were ashamed of carrying them openly," responds Shell with spirit-Then spirit-Then there is a period of silence, during dur-ing which Shell looks quite stern and even haughty, while Ruby does not appear ap-pear to be altogether as self-satisfied as she would wish to be possibly because be-cause It Irritates her to see Shell more at ease than herself. Shell meanwhile sews steadily on, and ne conversation threatens to come to a sudden termination, termi-nation, when a somwhat sarcastic glance from Shell causes It to revive. "There is no greater mistake than bringing parcels onecelf," pursues Ruby in an injured tone "parcels are 1 as she continues to adjust her pins. "Yes Robert Charnpley is expected home next week." "Is he?" says Shell, pausing suddenly sudden-ly In her work and opening her green eyes to their fullest extent. Then she continues musingly "Poor fellow!" "Your pity seems rather ridiculous," observes Ruby impatiently. "A man with over two thousand a year is not to be pitied." "Not even when he has lost the only person who could make that two thousand thou-sand a year worth having?" queries Shell, with a curl of her lip. "Absurd! He must have got over his wife's death by this time," says Ruby, tapping her sunshade restlessly on the carpet; "besides, he has his children." "Poor little things!" muses Shell, W'ith a short sigh. "Why poor? Of course he will marry again; and they will be well looked after." "Will they?" says Shell dubiously. "I am sure I hope so; besides, It remains re-mains to be proved that Robert Champ-ley Champ-ley w'ill marry again I think it very doubtful myself." "As if you, a child of nineteen, could possibly form an opinion!" exclaims ex-claims Ruby. "Why, you were a perfect per-fect baby when his wife died I wonder won-der that you can even remember her." "Let me see I must have been sixteen," six-teen," remarks Shell, with provoking accuracy, "because I know it happened four years since; and I shall be twenty the day after to-morrow." "Of course you would remember him I didn't exactly mean that," owns Ruby "only at that age you could not possibly understand muci of his character. char-acter. Now poor Clara used to say that I comprehended him so thoroughly thorough-ly nearly as well as she did. You know Clara and I were close friends." "I always thought Mrs. Charnpley was Garnet's great friend," observes Shell, with just a shade of unbelief in her tone. "At one time," admits Ruby in some confusion; "only after Garnet married and went to India I took her plac." "No one person can take another's place," says Shell decidedly. "I know Garnet corresponded with Mrs. Champ-ley Champ-ley up to the time of her death I have often heard mamma say so." "I am very glad that he is coming home," pursues Ruby, Ignoring this last allusion of her sister's intimacy with Mrs. Charnpley. "I have often felt it a weight on my mind that I have not been able to carry out dear Clara's wish, and look after her children." chil-dren." Shell has straightened her back, and now stands staring full at Ruby with such a quizzical glance that her sister says with an impatient flush "Well have I said anything so very extraordinary? You look as if you were going to eat me." "Well, it certainly sounded odd, to say the least of it," replies Shell, resuming re-suming her work," to hear that v"ou were going to look after Robert Champley's children. I should imagine imag-ine that he is pretty well able to look after them himself." "As if a man could possibly know anything about the training of children!" chil-dren!" answers Ruby contemptuously. "Of course he can't. I promised their poor mother that I would do my best to look after them, and I shall allow no conventional scruples to prevent my fulfilling that promise." "I am quite sure you won't," says Shell in a low tone to her work. Then suddenly a happy thought strikes her. "Perhaps he won't have the children home," she says, with a hopeful laugh "he can't do better than leave ties where they are, 'at bis shsrt" irocit to arrange: asivs v iuiul lw ingly. "I'll do it," answers Shell rather shortly "only, if I do all the cutting and fixing and trimming, I must tear-gain tear-gain that you and Ruby help with the machine work." "Yes, dear, of course only that stupid stu-pid old machine will never work for me," responds Ruby, with a vicious look at that useful but inartistic piece of furniture. "I'll make it work for me, or I'll know the reason why!" laughs Vi, seating herself before the machine and commencing to arrange her cottons. "Now, Shell, toss me over your skirt, child!" "How can you be so energetic, VI, after our long walk?" says Ruby, rising ris-ing from the sofa with a slight yawn. "I have quite a headache with the heat and must rest till lunch, or I shall ha fit for nothing during the remainder ol the day;" and then she leaves the room with a languid step, and the "click, click" of the old sewing machine echoing pleasantly in her ears. CHAPTER II. "Now, Vi," says Ruby a few evenings later, seeking her cousin's room, and speaking to her in a tone of confidence, "I want you to do me a favor this evening." even-ing." "All right, dear," answers Violet, coiling up the long plaits of her flaxen hair with artistic precision. "How can I oblige you?" "Well, as you know, the Champleys are coming in this evening for some music, and I want you to prevent Shell from putting herself forward in any way and talking to them. She has such a strange blunt way with strangers stran-gers that I am always afraid of her doing or saying something outrageous." "I'm sure you needn't be." responds Vi, looking rather astonished. "She w'as well named 'Pearl,' for she hides herself in her shell as persistently as her namesake. He who finds out her true value will have to be a very persistent per-sistent man." "Oh. she is a good deal sharper than you think," says Ruby, with a little sneer; "and at the same time she is so extremely odd that I never feel safe as to what she might say! I actually heard her confiding to the rector's wife the other day that cur stair-carpet had been turned four times." "Well, and if she did, there was no harm in it." declares Violet, who is far more attached to Shell than to the brilliant Ruby. "Of course you don't care, because it is not your own home you are only-staying only-staying here," retorts F.uby bitterly "but for my own part I think there is no need that our poverty should be exposed to strangers. If she gets into in-to conversation with either of the Champley's. I shouldn't in the least wonder at her telling them that our dinner is always badly cooked because we can't afford a new kitchen range." "I don't think she would," laughed Violet. "She is quite capable of it she is so eccentric. What other girl would insist in-sist upon being called 'Shell,' when she has such a pretty name? Nothing could be sweeter than Pearl; and yet if what particularly delicious blackberry-jam blackberry-jam your cook used to make?" asks the younger brother, taking a seat beside Shell toward the end of the evening. Edward Charnpley is a true Englishman, English-man, and, although three times already he has abandoned that seat in despair, he is still unwilling to acknowledge himself beaten. She does not reply for a moment; she is in the act of picking out a knot m the silk she is using, and till she has fully accomplished that intricate feat she ignores the fact even that she has been spoken to; then, turning upon him wilh keen eyes, which look almost piercingly dark in the lamp-light, sho says quietly "I beg your pardon." Ted Charnpley feels taken back; his remark which savors in his own mind slightly of the sentimental, and indeed was made in somewhat sentimental tone cannot be repeated in face of that stolid air of indifference on Shell's part; so he changes his former conversation conver-sation for another. "You seem to have become wonderfully wonder-fully industrious since I saw you last," he says, glancing anything but admiringly admir-ingly at the pretty garland of flowers that is growing under her white fingers. fin-gers. "Yes; I am very fond of work. When you saw me last I was a child; and children are so stupid they never think of anything but play," returns Shell scornfully, pursuing her occupation occupa-tion as though her living depended upon up-on it. "Upon my word," laughs Ted, "it is my belief that a good many children are wiser than their elders so observant, obser-vant, you know, and all that kind of thing. I really don't think you would class all children together again as being be-ing "stupid," if you only knew those little kids of Robert's; they are awful little sharpers." "I suppose their father takes quite an interest in them?" remarks Sk-ll in a bored tone. Her companion stares at her for some moments in amazement, then breaks into a rather mocking laugh "u ell, yes-Robert does take a decided de-cided interest in Bob and Meg. Seeing that they are his own children perhaps per-haps it is not to be wondered at " "No of course-that would account for it, responds Shell quietly and ignoring ig-noring the ring 0f sarcasm in Ted's voice. "I don't see how any one could help liking them poor little beggars'" continues con-tinues the young man bluntly, and in a voice that speaks volumes of wonder at his companion's heartlessness Shell breaks into rather an affected little laugh. "Dear me,' she says wonderingly "have I shocked you? If so, you must please forgive me; for I don't like children." chil-dren." Ted makes no remark for a few moments, mo-ments, but sits watching her with keen scrutinizing eyes, expecting every instant in-stant that some relenting dimple round her lips would belie her word-but word-but no-Shell works on in serene iml consciousness, with her well-poiW head a little on one side, and all her attention apparently fixed upon her work. |