The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-09-12
CHAPTER III.


 CHAPTER III.
 Mrs Derwent slept of her nervous headache, and came down to breakfast the next morning iu the smartest cap and gown her wardrobe had at command.
 My dear, you look twenty years younger" said her admiring husband, as he took his place behind the eggs and bacon.
 Mrs Derwent smiled pleasantly at him across the tucked up sleeves of the little maid who was bringing in the teapot.
 You needn't bring my work basket after breakfast" she said, addressing the Phyllis a little pompoasly. Those stockings are really past mending, and may as we'll be given to the aims house people,"
 Tom came in, bringing the letters which the postman had just handed to him over the garden-gate. He was scowling tremendously Tom could look black if he chose at the uppermost one, addressed to him in off :ial writing, and announcing itself in printed letters to be on Her Majesty's service" Not doubt it mast Dc the long ta!kedo o! nomination to an inferior billet in the general post office.
 Kathleen, occupied in cutting brown bread on a trencher, seemed to feel his black looks, for she did not so much as lit her eyes as she said:
 "Why trouble about it now, Tom Put it in the waste paper basket. Father, why can't Tom go to college like other young men, instead of beginning to work at something he detests9"
 K lthleen had had a sIeepless night, and thoughts that had kept her awake had not been pleasant ones A year and ten months seems an altogether intermi- nable period to a girl of nineteen under any circumstances, but when the said year and ten months is to comprehend in its tagging weeks an utter suspension of pleasant intercourse with one who has grown to be part of the girls very life it of necessity doubles and trebles itself Kathleen, however did not see ia Ter own to make other peoples hearts heavy Without being one step on the road to- ward canon Zltion as saint, she was yet one of those "gay good girls" whose whole delight is to make people and things around them sunshiny, not expect ing so much as thank you" in ac- knowledgment.
 MT. Derwent looked up from his plate, surprised but not displeased Mrs. Der. went looked up from hers, neither sur prised ner displeased. Tom, it may oe remarked in passing, was her favorite child.
 "lt's exactly what expected you would say, Kathleen" she sad in tone tha suggested combination of honey and treacle.
 Ali Toms frowns vanished in an in- stant, like ghosts at dawn.
 Cnme out in the orchard after break fast, Kathleen" he cried cheerlly. C. I'll swing you all the morning Tn the old ap- pie tree"
 Now, if there was one thing in life that Kathleen enjoyed more than "swee,ies !" Turkish delight, bulls eyes, toffee md such like tit was swing on a summers day. As rule she jumped at the offer of Tom servi ces-he did not volunteer them very often, it must be admitted to- day, however she shook her head
 live so much to do in the house" she began apologeucally.
 My dear" interrupted her mother, you must be relieved of some of your home duties now. Your education has not been what your father and l should have liked. You must set to work at ac- complishments of some sort at once."
 Kathleen dropped her bread knife in her amazement
 "Whnr she cried, round-eyed; "do you mean l am to go to schooI-at my age-nearly twenty2"
 Here's a letter for you. Kathleen" said Tom, anxious to divert attention, for well, say differ" on not few subjects.
 But he could not refrain from giving it a somewhat vicious look as he tossed it across the table to her, for the adhesive seal, with the name of Messrs. Long & Lovett upon it. stirred again the smould- esirg embers eff his discontent of yester- day.
 Kathleen put her letter beside her plate unopened, and sat down in silence to her breakfast. She, too, could not re- frain from giving the harmless envelope a passing vicious look, though the "vi- ciousness of her look assuredly sprang from a different source from Toms. There it lay, the ugly blue paper thing, with the round, business-like writing, and aggressive-looking seal. How unlike the missives which, as a rule, were to be found lying beside her breakfast plate, addressed to her in Bruce's small, sharp pointed writingl An, when would she again have one of his dear, darling old