Rensselaer Union and Jasper Republican, Volume 8, Number 21, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 February 1876 — KITTY. [ARTICLE]

KITTY.

CHAPTER I. “He will be sure to come before the summer is over,” said little Kitty to her" self. She was always called little Kitty, although nineteen years old, but she was round and soft and pretty and pettable, and looked like a little Kitten, so the, name and the adjective suited her perfectly. And she was very careful, in spite of many a temptation to the contrary, not to wear her new white muslin dress "at the doctor's wife’s or the lawyer’s wife’s party, and none of her best bows were seen at the church, though on many a Sunday the sun shone so brightly it seemea to be almost insulting not to wear them. She was keeping them all for the benefit of John Laurence when next he came to stay at the Laurels, which he was sure to do soon, for he always turned up about twice in the year. Old Mr. Hughes was very fond of bis big, handsome nephew, who had not long attained the elevated position of a lieutenant in the artillery, and having no son of his own, and the estates being entailed, it was perhaps only natural that he should make him his heir. x There was another reason, too, why old Hughes made much of John—he wanted him to marry his daughter; nay, it had always been considered a settled though undiscussed thing that he should do so, and people said that they were engaged. Kitty believed this gossip wa»<all nonsense, for Caroline Hughes was tall and thin, with two large white teeth sticking out in front of her mouth (though she was otherwise agreeable), and, moreover, whenever John Laurence came to Cragford he made love to Kitty. He always did it in a half-clandestine fashion that annoyed Kitty excessively, and never paid her marked attentions before other people; still he did not make love to her, that was certain, and she did not believe that he cared for Caroline. Kitty did not often go to the Laurels. Kitty's father was only a retired solicitor, though well off, and Mr. and Mrs. and Miss Hughes ranked among the big swells of Cragford, and only invited the professional men and their wives once or twice a year to dinner, and tneir daughters once or twice a year to a ball or a croquet party. It galled little Kitty to think that tills social difference in their station at Cragford was perhaps the reason why the love that John Laurence made to her was clandestine. Poor little Kitty! she had not a very nice time of it at home. “ I can’t imagine why you do not give Mr. Baverstock more encouragement,” Mrs. Horton w’as always saying to her. “He will be snapped up soon, for there are very few chances for girlsin alive place.” Mr. Baverstock was a young surgeon who had settled down in Cragford about a year previously. He wore spectacles, had thin legs and red hair, and was not by any means a charming object to behold. He was very devoted to Kitty, as all Cragford knew, but Kitty always snubbed him unmercifully. “ I detesthim, mamma.” (Kitty’s papa had unexpectedly taken to himself a second wife during a visit to London about two years since, and Kitty called her mamma to please him, but there was no love lost between them.) “ Why, he’s as ugly as-a toad.” “ He is getting a very good practice.” “ I would sooner marry the man in the moon;” and she settled restlessly down to read “ Lallah Rookh” for about the twenty-seventh time that year. It was a beautifully bound edition, radiant in crimson and gold, and illustrated with beautiful pictures by tissue-paperff Tirtty on her lastbirthdav. She declared she did not know where It came from, and it was quite true she didn’t, but she could have made an excellent guess if she had tried, . /

CHAPTER 11. Only a week later, and John Laurence had arrived at the Laurels. Mr. Baverstock brought tlie news, and when Kitty heard it she looked so sweet the surgeon felt himself encouraged, and ventured to stay the evening. There was only one vexing thing, that he had brought his friend Mr. Fletcher with him again. He __ had accompanied John Laurence on his last two visits to Cragford, and Kitty had felt on each occasion that he had been decidedly in the way; for whenever, quite by accident, John had met her when she was out for a walk, Mr. Fletcher had not been far off, and she devoutly wished him at Jericho. “ I hear Miijs Hughes’ marriage is to come off this summer,” Mr. Baverstock said, in his weak alto voice, “and now that the young gentleman is here I dare say it will be all arranged.” “No doubt,” said Mrs. Horton, a little spitefully, for she had noticed his attentions to Kitty, and/felt they boded her no good—p»obably--tfut ridiculous ideas into her aira prevented her from accepting the ITiustrious Frederick, who was ready to throw himself at her feet on tlie slightest psovocation. “I have always heard that they were very much attached to each other." Mrs. Horton had not heard anything of the kind; but no matter—shew-as given to fibbing. The very next day the hero called. He looked handsomer than ejer, Kitty thought. Jlis shoulders were broader, his hands bigger, and his face more sunburnt. He talked chiefly to Mrs. Horton, but he kept looking across at Kitty—that pretty, innocent; round-faced Kitty, with the sparkle in her downcast eyes, mid the flush cm her dimpled cheeks—till he made her heart beat with happiness and excitement. ” /‘By the way,-Miss Kitty,” he said, suddenly ftimbling in the big pocket of his loose tweed coat, “ I have a note for you. There’s to be some croquet up at the Laurels on Thursday, ana my aunt wants you to come.” ....

The white muslin dress was donned, and the coquettish hat and the little makebelleve wrap twisted about her shoulders to the beet advantage, and Kitty was ready for the party st the Laurels. Bhe did look very pretty, as eveu her step-mother secretly acknowledged. “ Remember, Kitty, I shall expect you home by seven for you to come later through those woods alone. Indeed, I think Mrs. Hughes ought to have asked me to sAopsrvn you.” “Yes, mamma " and Kitty went on hex joyful way.. The woods Mrs. Horton alluded to were privateones, belonging to tiie Laurels, but they made a short cut for Kitty and saved her a good liajf-mile at road. “ Perhaps he will come and meet me,” she thought, shyly, and strained her eyes to catch sight of bis awkward figure in the distance, but it did not appear. Then presently she heard the distant church-clock chime half-past three. “ There! I’m much too early. We were not even asked till four. I know what I’ll do when I get further ,ou; I’ll sit down in a shady part of the wood and wait till about five minutes after the hour.*' Bo she went on, and when she was within a quarter of a mile of the house branched off into a thick part of the wood and followed a sleepy stream that wandered on beneath the tall trees and among the tangled underwood, flecked with water-lilies and fringed with yellow iris, which nodded their golden heads to the sun. Bhe found a quiet, leafy nook close to its edge and sat aown and waited. Then suddenly through the distant trees she saw coming along the edge of the stream two figures—those of a man and a woman. The one she knew at a glance —it was John Laurence; the other she saw a mihu’e later was his Cousin Caroline. With a bound her heart seemed to come into her throat. “ It’s Miss Hughes,” she said to herself, “ and how nice she looks, and what a pretty dress she has on!” She drew her white muslin 'closer round her, and retreated a few inches further back behind the thick busline, so that they might pass her unperceived, and waited. On they came, arm in arm, talking earnestly and in a loiv voice. The color fled from Kitty’s cheek and the light died out of her eyes as she saw them, for surely only lovers walked as they did. They stopped as they got to within three yards of kitty’s hiding-place, while Caroline Hughes stopped absently to pick one of the yellow water-iris, and Kitty heard her say “Doyou know, John, I never liked you so well as I do to-day, and I thought you did not care for me." “My dear girl, I was always awfully fond of you. I think you ought to give me a kiss to make up for all the unkind things you have been spying.” She put up her face and Kitty looked away, with a pain which almost made her cry. Then they passed on and were soon lost to view. Kitty did not move from her hidingplace, and went to no croquet-party that afternoon. Mrs. Horton almost screamed with surprise, an hour later, when Kitty suddenly appeared, her muslin dress crushed, the. rose in front of her dress all faded and her cheeks and lips as white as the Jasmine about her head, as shestood in the window leading from the garden. “Mamma, I felt ill and my head ached, and I sat down in the wood and felt too ill to go on, and I have come back.” “Didn’tyou see anyone?” Mrs. Horton asked, doubtfully. “ I have not spoken to a soul,” she answered, and went to her room, saying she wished to lie down. In the dusk of the evening Kitty came down-stairs again, to find Mr. Baverstock talking with her father and step-mother. “We were talking of getting married, Kitty,” Mrs. Horton said, making way for her to sit down; but she stood staring at the group before her almost as if in a dream. “And Mn Baverstock says he would not marry an heiress for the world.”- “ No, indeed, I would not, Miss Kitty. I should only marry because 1 loved the young lady, and felt I could devote my life to her.”

“And why do you expect to be married, Mr. Baverstock?” she asked absently. He shuffled about uneasily and answered in his squeaky voice: “ Well, I hope—l hope the young lady will have an affection for m-e-e-e.” Kitty would have laughed at any other time, but now she only stared at him and passed out into the garden. _ She went through the gate and wandered just a little way down the lane again, feeling as If she would give anything to walk straight on and out of the weary world altogether. “ Kitty!” a well-known voice said softly, and John Laurence appeared from behind a tree and stood before her in tlie dim light. “ I have been waiting here on the mere chance of seeing you. Why didn’t you come to-day?" “ I was ill,” she said faintly. “ My poor little girl,” and he drew her hand through his arm. “Why, whatwas the matter?” But she shrank back. “Nothing,” she said, drawing herself up; “ only lam going home.” “ Something is the matter now,” he exclaimed. “ Why, Kitty, wfiat is it, my little darling?" ' “You have no 4 right to speak to me like that,” she said, while the hopeless tears filled her cyes- and tricked crown her <?!lt?eki.'"“lVhat wou'fd your cousin say—you who are engaged, and going to be married?’’ “I! I’m sure I’m not—at least it’s not arranged yet—though Caroline is going to be splicea.” • • “Yes, to you.” “ O dear! no; it’s to Fletcher.” “Why, I saw you kiss her this afterheard you say you were awlul- “ Wejl/what then? She’d been telling me in confidence about Fletcher, and getting me to manage it with my uncle, who’d had some ridiculous notions in his head, and I was congratulating her and telling her what he’d said, ana thought I deserved a cousinly kiss for my pains.” “ Was that it?” she said in amazement. “ Yes, it was, you little goose”—for he could not help seeing the state of the case —“ and you see, I’ve been hanging about here on the chance of seeing you. I wanted to tell you how fond I am of you, you little darling, and to askywfn be my wife.” And then he did to Kitty whatlie had done to his Cousin Caroline in the afternoon, and But never mind, the story is told, and you can guess how pretty Kitty lookecfeon the day she was married to her hero. —CZasseZZ’s Magazine.

Cookies.—Three cups of sugar, two tablespoonfills of rose water, one cup qf butter, three eggs, one teaapoonfui of soda, one-half cup of milk, flour enough to roll out well. Beat the eggs very light. Bub the butter, sugar and rose water together; then add soda dissolved in the milk, and the flour. Rollthin. One cupof sugar, one-hdii cup of butter, two egfflh half a teaspoonfill of soda, mix soft anobake quickly. One cup butter, two cups sugar, two eggs, half a teaspoon soda, half a. cup of milk. Flour to roll out. Add caraway seeds and spice. M. BtRNAUM has. found that when the feed water of a boiler is heated by the injection of steam, fatty matters are Occasionally carried into the boiler, Which form insoluble soapy matters with the lime salts present in the water. These soaps form a deposit which is not wetted by water, and this may lead to the' destruction 6f the boiler, inasmuch as the part of the boiler under the incrustation becomes more heated than other parts and is apt to occasion rupture. •