San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1883-07-05

who always wanted to know where
you got your clothes, and If it was
cheaper to buy your hats right out
and Just what terms you were on
with every man you knew. Just as
if it wasn't bother enough to get your
clothes without remembering every
one, and, as you never bought the
same hat right out, and had it made
too, how were you going to know
which was the cheaper? And as for
what terms you we're on with men,
why, you just weren't on any terms
with them, as far as you knew.
They came to see you, and you went
to places with them, and sometimes
they sent you flowers, and there
weren't any terms about it. If only
somebody very nice would come
to Wheatfeld that day and
stroll the woodsl If they
should see her white dress
through the trees, they'd of course
want to know who she was. Per-
haps it would be an artist, and he
would ask permission to put her into
his picture just as she was. Perhaps
it would be man world-weary and
passion worn, who would think her a
sweet picture of innocence, with gold
den sunlight decking her hair. She
was not sure whether it was fiecking
her hair or not, but she fancied it
was. Perhaps it would be some gay
society butterfly, who would meet her
on her own ground of gay Irritation.
Of course she would not speak to any
of these men unless something very
strange happened, but something
very strange probably would. She
did not know why, but she certainly
half suspected some one would come
that afternoon. 1t was so very quiet,
so very cool, so very-stupid, some
thing must come to wake her up.
By way of preliminary the book fell
out of her hand and she fell asleep.
The 7:3O train stopped just long
enough on it's way to the city for a
single figure in gray to step on the
platform and enter the car. There
was no doubt about the felt decid-
edly refreshed; it was just the sort of
q thing for a man to do once in a
while--gave him a good send-off for
the next day. To be sure, he thought,
if he were going to do it again he
would get some one to go with him,
though he didn't know any man he'd
care about asking. A girl would be
q different thing. 1t would have been
quite perfect out there on that hill
side if there had been nice girl out
there too, but then he could not very
well have taken one with him, aud
you can't expect to find right sort of
girl to spend a summer afternoon
with in place of about forty-fve
inhabitants, when she does not expect
you. He guessed he'd go there again
... ...
The gate swung to again behind
white figure, and a petulent flushed
face. Late for tea, and so warm be-
sides. If there was anything she did
hate to do, it was to sleep in the day
time. She did not care if it was
warm in the city. She did not see
why saying that over and over again
made it any cooler there. She was
tired of Wheatfeld. .
1t was six months later, and at an
evening party.
Charming" said beautiful girl
in cream color with deep roses at
her waist. Il read it last summer.
what is that, Miss Gabrielle?"
asked handsome young man giving
her an ice.
white Wings. Did you read
to"
"Yes; I read it one day in Wheat
field last summer.
why, 1 read it in Wheatfeld.
When were you there?"
"The last week in June--one We'd
nesday."
And why didn't you look us up?
We were there all through June"
You were there through June? You
were there that day-the only one l
spent there-and I didn't know it!
Miss Gabriel, 1 feel as if the happi-
ness of long life could not make up
for such a blunder as that"
1T is one of the things Mr.. Cozroy,
hat happens but once in lifetime,
said Miss Gabrielle, solemnly. Let
t be lesson to us.
Didn't Hurt q Bit.