The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1892-12-16
AN AFTERNOON CALL.

My mothers illness had kept us home
for months, but she was better and be-
ginning again to take interest in mag
azines and newspapers. In one of the
latter she discovered this item:
"Miss Marian Ross arrived Saturday
from Sparkling Springs, Va. She leaves
next week for.Bar Harbor and other gay
centers."
$50 over and call, 'ssaid my mother;
perhaps she will give you a Whit of
the ocean,"
Before l could demur she had rung
for George to bring around the cart and
ordered me out of the house.
| chose q short cut to Ross hill, %
country road bordered breast high with
blackberry and elder bushes. There
was much up hill and down dale work
and many a loose stone over which to
stumble, but the pony was fresh, trees
shaded the road, wild grapevines waved
their sprays in our faces, and an occa-
sional'breeZe waited us the fragrance of
the elder blossoms.
SlOoolIS IL DlluSO dhIu lOOhillS tO"u
through the tree tops to the creek far
below l could see the cattle drinking
velvet skinned Attorneys, whose grace
full limbs showed pedigree in every line.
Skirting the base of Rose hill we
turned into the avenue and climbed
toward the gates, which formed a cres-
cent and swung from huge stone pillars
almost hidden by woodbine.
The gates barred entrance to the drive
way; otherwise the place was not in
closed by wall or hedge-the great green
hill stretched away in its beauty for
every one to see. A rustic seat was
placed Hospitality on the boulevard that
even a stranger might tarry and enjoy
the view far away over the hill and val
ley to that line of misty blue which
marks the end of vision. On my way to
the house l espied a hammock under the
willow trees down by the spring. Surely
a white dress was f1uttering from it.
Bidding pony stand l ran down the hill,
to be received literally with open arms.
"My dear Harriet, how did you divine
that l was longing for you? But l did
not like to add myself to your burdens.
I am so depressing"
"Oh, but my mother is better, and be-
sides | am always glad to see you"
81 am so tired of myself that I feel as
if every one else must be tired Of me too.
1 was even grateful to my horse for SEEM
ing glad to welcome me home. We are
no match for dumb brutes in affection.
We chatter away all our best qualities,
our affection and earnestness, and-that
reminds me, you were not at church yes
terday. | was. | sat in the pew be-
tween the two doors, where the breeze
could fan me and the green trees look in
at ME there were very few other specta-
tors).
"The yellow windows were framed by
the shadow of the ivy on the outside, and
the choir boys sang like birds. The SER
mon was so good-all about-oh, 1 for
get what it was about, except that he
said the word translated good means
earnest-to be good is to be earnest. 1
was afraid before that l never could be
good, but now 1 am in despair. l never
realized how frivolous 1 was until Maud
married. She was always serious enough
for both of u.s."
We were sitting in the hammock,
which vibrated slowly, encouraged by
an occasional touch of her white Slip
pered foot on the turf. Before US the
spring trickled from the earth and ran
away q tiny thread of silver, just water
enough to keep the pebbles glistening
and to give drink to the ferns which
leaned over it. congratulated Marian
on the luxuriance of the green fronds,
knowing that the sisters were fond of
them, as they had been gathering them
for years on their travels, and each fern
had its pleasant "reminiscences.
Now" said Marian, 'there is an in
stance of how serious Maud is. 1t would
break her heart to know hat she had
half the associations attached to the
wrong ferns, but it only makes me laugh
when she hangs the California story on
a fern I know we brought from the Vir-
ginia mountains, or when she tells how
she dug that one in an old churchyard
in Morristown, n. j., near Washington's
headquarters, when Aunt Lefty herself
identified it as one she sent us from Hill
nois, from the banks of the Sangamon.
didn't Lincoln wade or fish or some
thing in the Sangamon? Yet 1 believe
Maud is happier than 1 am; at least 1 am
sure there is something lacking in me
now that she is married. After one has
owned a sister so long it is hard to have
some man with no claim at all come and
carry her off. Whatever she has had [
have always had, until now she has a
husband and | have none-not that 1
want one, but she might have waited.
''Since we were little girls we had
planned that if ever there was a wedding
in the house it should be a double one,
but when / reminded her she laughed at
he idea, said waiting for me was hope
'ess; that such an indecisive person as I
wouldn't know my fate when I saw him.
Then 1 couldn't help saying that if my
fate expected me to recognize him he
would certainly have to be handsomer
than her Henry. Of course there was a
quarrel, and after that 1 dared not sus
pect ever in my own mind that Henry
was not an Apollo, and if l was exhausted
in preparing for the wedding I was