The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-05-24

her bh0ughtS turned 10 young Ahnie1
and his sister, whom she could not bui
like for these frank kindnesses- Shs
laughed to herself when she recalled tn
little hb she had written that morning
to her brother Willard about the supe
rjsr excellence of Littleield society.
Few hours had made all the difference
From utter loneliness she had leaped into
the best Littlefeld set. The Ashleys
certainly were at the top of the tree,
And had not Miss Ashley asked permits
sion to call?
Edith March, young Ashley kept re
peating over to himself as he restlessly
wandered from the veranda to the hall
and from the hall to the library. Where
had he heard the name? It seemed ia
haunt him. He went over to pile OF
magazines on the library table, and Sc
lecting one by chance opened at the t,t
BILE of contents. ssBy Jove, here it is,
Fanny" and he dashed into the drawing
room with the book in his hand. s.Sha
is literary, and here is one of her stories.
"0f whom, pray, are you talking,
Harold?'
why of that girl, Of course, who
found theold party up in the woods Miss
March. The name has been haunting
me ever since heard it. And do you
know / recall now a letter had yester-
day from Stevens, who is upat Tamerack
Camp with a young geologist named
March. He says he Isl capital fellow,
and has sister who writes. OF course
it must be the same,
why, Harry said Miss Trevor, smil-
ing up at him from her reclining chair.
''you look as if you had found gold
mine"
Edith had been up three hours labor
ing at her story in the dewy freshness OF
the morning when smart dog cart with
groom on the back seat and high
stepping horse driven by Mr.. Harry Ash
ley entered Ford's alley at lively pace
and stopped at Mrs. Northups door. The
good woman, when she answered the
summons, was electrified to find a slnil-
ing young man on the doorstep who in
quired If Miss March lived there, and de-
ivered to her a dainty billet, intimating
that he would wait for an answer. She
came painting up the steps to Edith's
room with Margery clinging to her gown.
Edith took the note abstractedly, an
noyed to be interrupted in her work,
but when she had opened it and read her
face colored with blissful emotion. 1t
was an invitation from Fanny Ashley to
join yachting party on the river for
Thursday.
"Mr. Ashley said verbal message
would answer" the landlady remarked.
fairly bursting with curiosity to know
why the Ashleys should be running after
Miss March.
''Ten him, please, l accept with pleas
ure," said Edith, pink and smiling with
unexpected happiness. Why should she
deny herself holiday just this one2
''She accepts with pleasure, said Mrs.
Northup to herself, as she went down
stairs, Margery's light steps pattering
behind. sWe1l, never did see the beat
of that. The girl is witch. And how
did she get in with them Ashleys, the
proudest, stifest, uppercrust folks in Lit
tlefeldg'
There was no moro writing possible
for Edith that day. She satand dreamed
for an hour with Fanny Ashley's per-
funed note IN her hand, while the
yellow Jacket plastered his clay house
on the beam over her head. Her own
story was too absorbing to allow her to
go on weaving fictitious webs. Some
thing 30 new and delightful had come
into her life she felt Obliged to give her
self up to the luxury of her sensations.
Then she .awoke TO the fact that she had
no clothes wherein to appear before fash
ionabie people. Har old garments seemed
to rise up and shame her. She had torn
her only possible gown the day she
brought Celestina Rivers through the
brambles, and it seemed out of the power
of thread and needle.to darn that trap
door, in the skirt SO as to remove the
reproach. But she had promised to go
on the yachting party, and her heart beat
quick and fast at the thought Inc
writing table was pushed against the
wall, and the remainder Of the long day
was spent in repairing her wardrobe;
for Edith was as quick with her needle
as her pen when she set herself to the
task.
The accusing trap door darn was
neatly hidden under the fold OF the
gown, the cracked boots were menuea
and renewed with liquid backing, tne
old gloves were deftly repaired, ana the
long Sits in her black lace sash drawn
up with cunning art. Some new tr1fi-
ming for tsie old hat was even discovered
at the bottom of the box, crumpied
feather, that recurled by aid OF skill
full penknife looked almost as good as