The Arkansaw traveler., 1889-05-04

done with me. must be boring you for am tired myself. Did you tell the Osbury's that I was here7"
 "No; for was afraid that the merest reminder of you would cause Mrs. Osbury troubled thought"
 "You are considerate," she replied, slightly bow ing. "Where Is FredT" she asked after moments pause.
 "In California. have, also, letter from him" "Let me sec it, please"
 "No"
 "Why7"
 "Because am considerate"
 "Ah Consideration with you is carefully watered plant, but why should 1t suggest the advis ability of not showing me the letter."
 "Because the letter contains an uncomplimentary mention of you"
 held out the letter; she took 1t, returned to her scat and after reading 1t, wadded it up, threw 1t upon the bed, and sat for time with her elbow resting on the window sill and her chin resting on her hand.
 "Pretty little hands '" she said, almost contempt uously. "IIsir black as a crow smart warrant you that she is a chatteriDg idiot"
 could not help laughing, so absurd did her indignation appear.
 "Why should you care how many girls win his love? He Is nothing to you"
 "Of course not !" she pettishly replied "but despise to see man SO fckle. Talk about the hckleness Of woman when man is as turnable as a weather cock The ablest man in the world Is
 
 womanS No, he wouldn't. Buta handsome woman worships ability. To her, the poet, though he may be hump -shouldered, knock -kneed and ape-f faced is handsome"
 "I am not talking about myself now. I am talk ing of man and woman in general"
 You seem to remember parts of your former lectures" remarked.
 She sprang to her feet with laugh, and clasp ing her hands back of her gold covered head, walked up and down the room. When she sat down again could see no traces of the annoyance which she had shown
 "IIow long do you expect to remain here?" I asked.
 "Not long, for am getting tired of the honest quietude that censures my deception"
 "You are bright woman, Miss Hatton." "Dont you think that you should pour & little more water your tender plant Of consideration" she asked, smiling; but before l could reply, she exclaimed "Oh, have book you must read. While you were raving with fever l read, in & weekly newspaper, a half column in praise of a new novel entitled, On the Moss Side of the Tree' Shortly afterward had an opportunity of sending to Nashville for it."
 "Who wrote it?' asked.
 "A writer I never heard of before except as sort of poet. His name is Elvis Wigglesworth" "I remember his poetry and some of 1t has taken a strong hold upon me. Where is the book?" "Down stairs, but you are hardly we'll enough to read it now. If you wish, I will read 1t to you There is nothing in 1t that cannot be read out for 1t was written by man. Man books, you know, are all pure" she continued, smiling archly. "That is so far as this country is concerned We only blush when we read books written by young ladies who make shrewd guesses. must go down stairs now for 1t is about time the folks returning"
 CHAPTER XV.
 1 unused over my letters, meditated deeply over the thoughts which my friends suggested to me- At morning, when the winters sunlight seemed to come with gentle tap at my window, I raised up and extended a welcome; and at evening when. on the other side of the house, the sunlight wavered and bade me goodbye for a day, I nodded a reluctant farewell. Day after day the sun arise and day afte~ day l saw it go down behind the sassafras- girted ridge At morning the