The Opelousas courier., 1886-09-11
II want datln Pet responded, pointing

a means which he had never known to
fail in similar cases. He lay fiat down on
the floor with a little squeal of displeas-
ure, and pounded his heels up and down
with energy.
"Why, Petm Carrie murmured, in ten
der reproof.
Then her eyes wandered back to her
book, and she became gradually re-ab-
sorbed-it being the point at which the
hero c!asped the heroine ~passionately in
his arms and covered her with thousand
fond caresses.
Carrie always read those passages
they seemed to occur in all the novels
with incre lsed interest and a sympa-
thetic thrill.
She was sometimes led to revise the
scene, in a m1sing way, by substituting
her elf and somebody e Sc in place OF the
hero and heroine. Somebody else,
strangely enough, was always Benson
Stevens.
She was ~roused-just as the irate par
ent of the heroine burst into the room
by the swapping together of the front
gate.
''There, Pet" she said, looking out,
''there's little Mabel Gosse and her
mamma! She's come to play with you.
How nice! Run down stairs, dear, and
take your doll and your engine to show
her."
Pet had been standing close to the
dressing table, and he started down
stairs in unwontedly brisk obedience.
He did not stop for his doll and his
engine; he wal giving all his attention
to a suspicious looking lump in the folds
of his sash.
He wentout of the room in a sideways
m inner, in order that this lump might
not be observed.
Benson Stevens called at the Gosses'
that evening with his father.
Mr.. Stevens had callel chiefly to talk
over a matter of business with his part
ner; but Mrs. Gosse, a plump, pretty
woman, playfully interfered when Ben
son showed a disposition to join in the
discussion.
Don't" she pleaded. "What is going
to become of me2 Come to the other
end of the room, this minute, and enter
tain me. What's the use of being a
g~ood-laoking young man if you are not
TO make yourself agreeable9n she added,
with the familiar banter of a privileged
nation.
Benson was not sorry to sit down on
a sofa beside her ard listen to her
pleasant chatter; she was a mistress of
small-talk.
"Where do you keep yourselfG' she
began. sob, you needn't trump up any
excuses for your shocking neglect of me!
/ know-I'ye heardl I've been told all
about your dep devotion to a certain
young LADY, was there this afternoon,
by-the-way."
"Where?' began Benson, with a flimsy
afectltion of ilnocenCe.
But Mrs. Gosse tapped him on the arm
reproyingiy.
"You bad boy" she said; ''when the
whole town knows it, Why"
She stopped in her turn.
ttWhat is the matter?n she said.
Ben on was $ airing, open-mouthed, at
a little article on the table. 1t was an
ink-stand, carved in white wood, and
representing a wheel-barrow containing
a barrel.
where did you I beg your pardon!
but, really, where did you get it, Mrs.
Gosse?" he sa d indicating it.
lie felt nothing as yet but an extreme
surprise.
ssThat2a said Mrs. Gossse, musingly.
stoh, yes! / took Mabel with me this
afternoon, aud that is something the
children were playing with. Mrs. kins-
Ter has her little grandson with her, you
know. They were playing store. / sup
pose that was one of Mabel's purchases.
I didn't notice that she was bringing it
home til we got here She went over
to the table to look at it. aWhy, it's
quite a pretty piece Of carving.-an ink
stand. isn't it. Unjust send it back i'm
med;ately. Why did you ask about it?n
she added.
Benson turned red.
ooh, I thought he stammered-tT
thought it rather pretty-rather unique
His establishment had given way to a
sharp pang of wounded feeling, and of
indignation. If he had been a girl, or
considerably younger, he would have
cried from yexation and hurt pride.
As it was, he sat with a flushed face,
staring at the carpet and biting his lips,
and trying to listen to Mrs. Gosse as she
talked on pleasantly.
He was thinking, bitterly enough, OF
Miss Kinsler-he called her Miss Kins-
Ter, in the strength of his indignation.
Of course, he understood perfectlYthat
she was exceedingly fond of her little
nephew; but certainly she might have
CSy,nn bsnz cemofhsnm nJon ~ ,,Iau vv;fb
beside that ink-stand.
How much could she have cared for
it2 Not at all, plainly. 1t wax a thing
that would break. She could have *
pected nothing else when she gave tito
Pet. Fet-Benson suddenly decided
that that was the ~silliest nickname they
could possibly have invented. She could
have expe tied nothing else than it would
come back to her broken in pieces, if it
ever came back at all. Probable she had
not cared whether it did or not.
OF course, he reflected, while Mrs.
Gosse chatted on comp'acently-of
course, he. hadn't expected her to value
it for itself; it wasn't very valuable. But
he hid hoped that she would care for it
q little because-because he had given it
to her.
He had faneied her putting it carefully
away among her best treasures and he
hal fondly imagined that the numerous
bright. colored. silk-fringed cards he had
senther might be among those treasures
and only using il on great occasions, and
grudgingly then. But, bah she hadn't
given It a second thought, evidently;
and as for the cards, she had probably
burned them up long ago.
Very Welt Benson told himself that