Fairhaven herald. [volume] (Fairhaven, Wash.) 1890-????, 1892-07-03

twisting between the tips of her fingers.
Fate again. Mr.. Archibald Jones has
already asked her the same question and
for the sake of escaping tiresome tete-
a-tete she has declared her intention of
staying at home and enjoying the few
Examinations that have been purchased
for the children.
I'm SO sorry" she says, not very
steadily because of some emotion that
makes her heart throb furiously, Jaw
fully sorry. It's too bad, but l have had
TO refuse one invitation like yours al
ready, because I've are going to have a
few rockets and things on the lawn and
the children want me to stay with them.
Won't you-couldnt you come here,
Mr.. Brayton2 | can't promise you much
Of treat" she adds, laughing a little
nervously as she thinks of the other one,
who is coming on his own invitation.
81 don't suppose it'll be very exciting,
but you don't know how glad should
be if you would come
Then she lifts her eyes and looks at
him. They are such lovely eyes, so blue
and tender and wistful. He sees the
usefulness, to be sure, but whether 1T is
meant for him or the other man who
has invited her, he cannot tell. Men are
so stupid about these things. When
there is any doubt of this kind to be con-
sidered they usually give the benefit of
it to the other man.
Thanks" he says again, but little
chill of reserve has crept into his voice
now and frozen all the genial warmth
out of it. Ever so kind of you. Per
haps | will. won't promise. Then you
can't expect me and be disappointed If
don't appear.
The words end in a decidedly curt
laugh, as he steps out into the path
again. An innocent looking torpedo
CLEANS white against the red gravel at
his feet. He stoops down, picks it up
and filings it against the stonework OF
the steps. Perhaps its sharp report
serves as a vent for his turbulent
thoughts. Then he looks back at the
girl, and their eyes meet for an instant
"a single glance, incomprehensible to
both.
"Goodby, and allow me to wish you a
very pleasant evening, Miss Barbara"
A pleasant EVENING" Poor Bah. She
drops down in lutte heap on the divan
as he disappears, and buries her face in
the depths of a big silk pillow. What
is the use of trying to be happy any
more2 What is the use? He doesn't
care for her-he never will care now.
That hateful Jones is like a grinning
skeleton, putting himself always be-
tween her and her one love. Oh, dear
The thought ends in long sigh.
"You come over to my house first,
Dolly"
mo, you come over here. Thatll be
incest. We're goin to have eight rock
ets-maybe MORE dunno"
"So're We"
"An a whole lot Of fres-red an blue
an green"
Sore We"
"Goody, goody, goodyl Amt it fun?
think Fourth o July's nicer'n all the
days in the year 'cept Christmas, don't
you, DuckyF
Course | do"
A series Of happy little giggles and
the voices grow fainter as the children
pass the window and go around the
house. Bah drags herself up again and
looks out through the bright sunshine,
her eyes full of longing. If she could
only be a child again and crave no
greater happiness than the Fourth of
July celebration. If there were only nc
such things as men and heartaches.
As the long day wears itself out and
twilight settles down she becomes more
and more restless. One question whirls
through her mind again and again and
routs all other thoughts. Will he come
That Mr.. Archibald Jones will be prompt
in arriving she does not doubt. He il
always on hand with patient persistency
and no GOODNESS of manner or scornfu
words could ever affect him to the poin
of keeping him away.