The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1893-09-23
THE NEIGHB0RS.


old and both were handsome. Mrs. En-
derby certainly never looked hand
somer in her life than when, after
bearing with Mrs. Forsythe's inuen-
up her own garden path into her own
house, with her head very well up, and
beautiful, angry blush upon her clear
cheek, and then, going to her own
room locked the door. and burst into
passion of tears from vexation pure and
simple.
After almost'driving Mrs. Enderby to
madness, Mrs. Forsythe went next TO
DR.. Brooke's house. His pleasant,
shaded grounds adjoined those of Mrs.
Enderby. Mrs. Forsythe was good
soul, yet sensitive people fed from her
as from pestilence.
''Well, girls, she said to the Doctors
twin daughters as they received her in
the drawingroom with all the for
mality of their fifteen years, you've got
a neighbor in your new home. I'll be
bound your father'll be over to call
soon.n
The two girls were as alike as twins
usually are. They had soft, gray eyes,
like father, and glowing compilations in
which the color came and went. Janet
looked at Dolly, and Dolly looked at
Janet. Their lips trembled.
"Papa-does not consult us-where
he wishes to call" said poor Dolly,
vainly trying to show some spirit on the
occasion.
eve have perfect confidence in papa"
spoke up Janet, boldly.
"Ah, my children, you don't know
widows-and widowers."
Mrs. Forsythe did not drive the two
young girls to their bedrooms to cry
furiously, but when Doctor Brooke came
home to his midday dinner from his
round of visits, Dolly few at him and
kissed him with a strange passion.
Something was the matter with his girl,
the doctor saw.
''What is III" he asked tenderly,
pressing her soft cheek to his.
"N-nothing," said Dolly, while tears
rushed to her eyes.
"I'll tell you what it is, father" said
Jack Brooke, aged 16, big, ungainly,
afraid of nothing on earth and always
fighting, but who had never given his
father cause for anxiety in his life.
cts that old Forsythe woman. She's
been here telling the girls you're
Jack hesitated; he wished to put it re-
spectfully-''t you're spooning all
over the widow next door and what 2
dance she'll lead u.s."
Doctor Brooke was the soul of courte-
sy, but at this he roared:
"Confound that Forsythe womanl
Here, you fellow, go and tell the house
maids and Thomas she's not allowed to
set foot in this house again. I'll not
have her worrying and teasing you.
And I-a-have no intention of-er-
oh, dash it all"
That was much substantial comfort
to the girls. Their pretty faces cleared
up, and at dinner they squabbled for the
privilege of sitting next their father, it
being the duty of one to sit at the head
of the table.
The doctor had good way to drive
in the country that afternoon, to see
patient, and so he had leisure TO cogi-
tate over the ForsYthe incident. 1t was
a shame, the doctor thought bitterly,
that the old woman would not let her
be in peace. If he were what is vul-
carly called a marrying man, it might
be excusable, but he had been the most
prudent and circumspect of widowers-
albeit he was not vet 40-was the lead
ing doctor of Compton, and was un-
commonly well off. The doctor had
dim and unacknowledged feeling that
liberty was too sweet to be trihed with.
He had never really been a free man
in his life until Amelias death He had
married Immediately upon his gradua-
ton.
The dead and gone Amelia, it must be
confessed, had been a nagging sort of
woman. She was clever in her way,
and by wheedling and whining she had
accomplished things she never could
have done by openly and boldly fighting
for them. Amelia was always protest
ing her willingness to give up her own