The west shore., January 01, 1886, Page 25, Image 23

THE WEST SHORE.
25
be able to got for you, by and by! Talking of women,
though, there uro nil sorts of drawbacks put in our my,
spokes in the wheel of our advancement What 1 hoiild
liko to puno id Umt women ore certainly far superior to
nieu if they succeed in merely rivaling them, handicapped
im the poor females are by so many extra diflioultios."
" To whom do you want to prove it, Amy?"
" To the men, of course. They are the ones who need
convincing."
"But perhaps they are the very ones who don't wish
to be convinced."
"All the more need to convince thorn against their
will. Well, never mind, a time is coming when they
must be convinced. DoedB, not words, youknow.And
yet, on second thoughts, I am in doubt whether it Is uot
the women themselves who need to be convinced."
"What, really?"
" They are such limp creatures, Gracio."
" You are not limp, darling, anyway," said tho little
sister, smiling.
She was lying back on the pillows of her bod, and at
the foot sat Amelia, erect and determined, her head
thrown up, her eyes flushing, looking like a young war
horse ready for the fray.
Amelia was twenty, but appeared younger: her bright
beauty was bo thoroughly the beauty of youth and rosy
freshness, and there was such abundant life and spirits
in her most trifling actions.
"Does Mr, Mclluish need convincing?" asked Onion,
after a pause.
"I don't know," said Amelia, hurriedly slipping from
tho bod and going over to the othor side of the room,
whore she began chmoly to examine an unfinished sketch
of the day before, and to scrub it up and down with a big
paint brush.
Douglas Mclluish was a tall, lank young man, with
hair that the Miss Wyvorns would doubtless have de
scribed as "tawny," with light eyelashes closing over his
keen eyes, and as many freckles as the stars of heaven
showered upon his face and hands. . lie was much given
to reading Carlylo; ho seldom smiled; he nodded his
head and murmured "Ay," in a deep basg tone, and said
but little else. Only he adored Amelia with the persist
ency of ton ordinary men.
There was one subject, howevor, on which the young
Scotchman could grow loquacious, and that, as might be
expected, was genealogy. To Mrs. Wyvern the subject
was as distasteful as it was dull; it denoted a misplaced
affection, she Brguod, on the part of their descendant to
go groping around tho tombs of the McIIuishes, who had
left him nothing but an outlandish name mid a few thou
sand freckles a year. Amelia herself was conscious that
her thoughts wandered when Douglas held forth on hi
noblo progenitors, her own mind being very strongly set
in the direction of modern progress, and thoroughly at
tuned to the most radical, nay, communistic tendencies
of the present day. Grace alone sympathized with the
young Soot She considered his monologues on genea
logical topics as kind of harmless lunacy, and treated
him with as much gentleness as any amiablo Christian
would show to a bear with a sore head.
Mib. Wvein was, however, often uneasy with regard
to tho young man's ivorty; that she hud been ruiuan.
tioally disused at tho time of her own murriago argued
nothing in favor of any folly on the part of her daugh
ters; tho most consistent people do not think it necessary
to carry on till fifty the feelings they boasted of at thirty.
Mrs. Wyvern would doubtless have turned n thoroughly
cold shoulder on Amelia's unfortunate swain had it not
been that he softened her maternal heart by tho sympa
thetio, almost feminine, tenderness ho evinced for Grace.
His visits helpod much to brighten the poor girl's life,
and, whilst she undoubtedly liked him, he loved hor
dearly, this little soventeen-year-old Grace, a budding
flower that might never bloom into the fulluessof perfoo
tion, a sensitivo plant that ocnod out in an instant to
tho sunshine of kind words.
Wheu Mclluish camo to spend tho evening, as for
Grace's express benefit ho was occasionally xirmittod to
do, sho bade him carry her to tho drawing room window
where she loved to watch tho moonlit sky and tho twink
ling lamps up and down tho street There, as she lay, a
mero feather in his stalwart arms, her thin little nook
stretched itself out, and the hectic face leant forwnid,
her eager gaze sweeping the dreary horizon.
Then, finally, as his lost reward, sho hud a way of
drooping her head and looking up with dreamy blue eyes,
whilst sho murmurwd very softly:
"My brother! my own brother!" and at these words
the young man's very brow grow rod with blushes and a
sweet hopefulness filled his soul.
That was Oracle's way. ,
Yet this mutual understanding was nnnvowedj through
force of habit Douglas Mclluish had certainly como to
bo looked umiii as Amelia's recognized admirer, but
nothing more. Mrs. Wyvern had not the heart to pre
vent his coming to the house, but sho could not encour
age him. " Of course, he is too oor to dream of marry,
iug," Mrs. Wyveru often said
"Of course," returned Graeie. "And Amy novor
wants to marry, you know, mother."
"All the lx.ttir," replied Mrs. Wyvern; " I don't wish
to lose her. lint wait till the right man comes."
"And then?" asked Gracio,
" Well, thou things will lie settled," said Mrs. Wyvern.
" You always ask so much, child."
Hut Gracio (Hindered whether thing worn not settled
already, Khe loved Amelia; sho loved Douglas. There
was that question of money, money, money; always
money, thought the girl, sadly. Yet, if Douglas by and
by became s great lawyer, and Amy a distinguished
painter, these money problems must all Im easily solved.
If only Amelia could earn money now, as sho was sura to
do sooner or later, and as her talent undoubtedly do.
served!
II.
Mr. Bimpkius' academy of art was by no means
planned npou any new or olaboraU method. Mr. and