Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1883-07-26

are plentiful in June even for LOnd0ners,
and Penelope had buried her face in more
than one friendly bunch before to-day.
Tom was spared, however, the necessity of
explanation or prevarication, for her quick
ewes had caught sight of the wires and the
way in which the flowers were fastened.
"These flowers came from Covent Garden
did you.n her voice faltered little-the Of
fense was enormous-"did you buy them ?"
Tom tried to say he stole them, but Pene-
lope did not attend to his joke, which no OBJ
server would have suspected to be anything
but solemn appeal for mercy, had his voice
and manner alone been considered. She
went on painting with.a certain dogged res
olution which revealed new phase in her
character. After a pause she asked, With
out lifting her eyes from her painting, and
with touch of embarrassment which sur
prised herself quite as much as it did her
companions:
"Mr. Brown, do you come here with a
purpose""
Tom felt and looked guilty. He was a
little astonished at the question, but he had
long ceased to wonder at any of Penelope's
actions, and he hadreaehed stage at which
criticism was impossible. Otherwise, her
words might have startled him.
''Because if you really find it helps you to
think" she went on, quite recovering her
usual composure as she discovered that the
young man was unable to resent her inter-
ference in his affairs, 'you cannot call it a
waste of time. My sister sayswhen she has
think it out by sitting quietly here and lis
tening to the service in the Abbey" Tom
humbly thought he could do the same, and
seated himself in one of the arches to think
out the subject which interested him.
"You know" said Penelope, dropping
back into her old confidential tones, as she
was reassured that Tom was really at work
upon his interesting series of articles, 81 do
not approve of waste of time or money!"
with severe look at the roses beside her.
"You bought them and you ought not to
throw away your money like that" =.
"Indeed, roses are very cheap IN June, - ,
urged Tom, who had never considered
whether the month was June or December.
I'm any case you must not, please p3 Sc; {, buy y
things for me-" Penelope concluded with a
grave air of dignity, which completed Toms
discontinue.
He might have got up and gone away, but
there was no place in London so exactly
suited for hot June day as these quiet
cloisters, cool and shady, with the green
square of grass in the centre, and the quaint
old houses beyond, creamy against blue
sky. The busy world outside was forgotten;
The children, or foreigners, who wandered
by, guide book in hand, lowered their voices
and slackened their steps under the arches.
1t seemed to Tom, whose Imagination was
not, however, of a high order, that ne and
the girl in the gray linen frock were the only
two really living creatures in a world OF
shadows, who came and went IN purpose
less fashion and were forgotten as soon as
they disappeared.
"Tt is nearly Finished" said Penelope, as
she scattered the roses on the pavement:
'I hope you are getting on we'll and that L
do not disturb you by talking. I wish, for
your sake, some Americans would come
here and criticise me loudly, but the place is
empty to-day"
"dThere seems to be no one here but our
selves"
"Wait a minute-twelve is striking.
Look" She pointed as she spoke to the
long, dark, arched passage which led into a
sunny paved court beyond.
The whole place seemed, as Tom said,
deserted, but at the last stroke of twelve a
sudden rush of life and energy broke like
a stream of sunshine into it's quiet and 81
lence. 1t was only the boys coming out OF
school, the dignity and deliberation of the
seniors being concealed by the enthusiastic
rush of the rosy checked juniOrs-White
collared little boys, who were dispersed in
all directions before Tom had time to realize
the meaning of the scene.
Penelope had friends amongst the young
er ones, as she had nearly everywhere
amongst all classes and all ages, railway
porters and policemen, public-school boys
and overworked nurse-girls. Nobody could
resist the charm Of her face and manner
who was not wrapped in triple mail OF
conventionality and self-esteem, and even
such were moved by the unconscious grace
of her smile.
AS it struck one o'clock she laid down her
brush and turned to Tom, to whom she had
not spoken for at least ten minutes.
care you hungry? she asked. am, deS-
perately. l think l can have some lunch
to-day; wait until l look"
She drew out her purse and turned slow
ly over it's contents.
81 have just fourpence to spare will yon
90 and buy some biscuits?"
Tom professed his readiness to go any
where, and listened to the details as to the
place, nature and amount of the purchase
with proper respect. He had never imagln-
ed that any human being could pay so
much heed to the best method of eXpend-
ing fourpence, and extract so much pleasure
from the process.
"There is more than four pennyworth in
the bag" she declared when he returned to
her side; but she was satisfied with his
humble acknowledgment that he had spent
an equal sum on his own account. They
ate their biscuits in the little clOisters Sc.
cluded from passing strangers, and studied
the plants in the centre garden with Sclen'
tific curiosity whenever an approachlngfoot-
step warned them of a possible intruder.
"Biscuit do crumble So" said Penelope
plaintively, they betray one to the public
but theV are delicious food"
Tom thought them a little unsatisfying
but would not have acknowledged it for the
world. 1t was part of this dreamland into
which he had found his way that the very
food should be wanting in substantially.
81 am going now," Penelope said when
four o'clock had struck, "and am going tc
take home all my belongings, for the picture
is really finished, really and truly, though
l might stay here for another fortnight wor'
rying myself about details. AS you are
here, perhaps you will help me to carry my
easel to the station"
She spoke as if an easel six feet high were
a trife which most men carry in their daily
walks, and certainly never suspected thai
she was making a heavy claim upon hel
companions courtesy.
marian does not like newspaper par
cels," she went on, happily unconscious o
Toms feelings, as she rolled up her paint
brushes in her Daily News. "But think
, it mere nonsense to care whether youl
brushes are done up in brown paper
or no."
Thus Tom started from the Abbey carry
: ing an easel accompanied by Il girl bearing
Il big canvas, a newspaper parcel, and hel
, | ,ro+ no Lotto IJa fn1t the ahSuritV of the