The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1893-04-25

leaped in, the iron tongue of old Trim
ity tolled 6 in deep bass monosyllables.
Perhaps-perhaps I might yet be IN
time -perhaps Bruce Hardenbrook
might be such a fool as to be idling
away the precious moments in that
big easy chair at the club rooms. It
was barely possible, and my heart gave
a bound at the idea.
Fanny was at home for as I rang the
bell l saw the futter of her blue
muslin dress from the French windows
that opened upon the balcony-and the
next moment she admitted me herself
-atall, beautiful girl, with light brown
hair brushed away from a low white
forehead, and eyes like shady wells of
light.
Dear me, MI. T~histledown, is It
really you?" she exclaimed, coquet-
tishly adjusting a rose in her hair.
Excuse my opening the door, the
servants are gone to Michael Some
body's wake, and I'm all alone"
Not entirely alone, for a monitor"
hat hung on the hall stand-dark
speeches. witness! Ny heart stood
still. At the same moment l caught a
glimpse of my face in the ovel mirror
above. 1t couldn't have been redder
or more shining if it had been boiled
mahogany. However, I gave it a
nervous dab or two with my pocket
handkerchief and boldly entered the
parlor.
Just as I expected. Bruce Harden
brook was there; but then, judging by
his appearance, he had only just ar
rived. Now was my time; but how
was a fellow to make love with Bruce
Hardenbrook's cold critical eyes full
on him, and the amused curve of his
lip, varying at every word I spoke.
I'll was thinking Of asking you
Fanny"
eyes, MI. Thistledown."
But my courage failed me at this
eventful moment,
IF you're much troubled with mos
quitoes in this neighborhood?'
Bruce was laughing-I knew he was
but l scorned to look at him. I felt
as if I had been taking a bath in
liquid fire; was I to be trifed at thus?
Never!
Fanny" resumed, resolutely, Il
am in-n
But she jumped up with an agonized
little cream.
Hush, wasn't that a mans step in
the basement hall! I am sure 1 heard
it. Kathleen has left the door I'M
bolted, and the house is full of robbers
and murderers! Oh, Mr., T~histledown,
dO-do run and see9'
She shrank into a corner with the
prettiest cowardice I have ever seen.
Now, I'm not, as a general thing,
particularly partial to the company of
burglars and hou5ebreakers, but what
was a man to do thus charmingly ap-
pealed to.
Don't be afraid, Fanny" said I,
catching up the guitar case valiantly,
and making for the lower part of the
house with that weapon of aggression.
Com on, Northumberland make
'em stir round pretty lively, or we'll
know the ~reason!"
Hardenbrook followed, rather con
trary to my expectations. had half
feared his remaining behind to comfort
the frightened dove in the blue muslin.
feathers.
"You look in the kitchen, This lie
down, and I'll examine the cellar" he
said, and I promptly obeyed. I looked
under the dresser, behind the tables,
even beneath the great brass kettle in
the corner, but there was no burglar.
SIT must have been the cat, Harden
brook" baweled ], ''for-The deuce
how came this door shUt7"
I gave the handle of the door on
energetic turn-it was fast locked!
And now the truth began to dawn,
dimly upon my perturbed and excited
brain. The coast was cleared and
victory belonged to Bruce Harden
brook!
In vain 1 shouted until my lungs
were hoarse-in vain 1 ratified the re-
lentless door; nothing but the echo re-
warded my efforts. Nor was the
scene of my involuntary confinement
particularly inviting. 1t was dark,
close and intensely hot-a circum
stance easily accounted for by the fact
of a white-ho fire glowing awayin the
range and no particular circulation ex-
cept that of croton bugs across the
floor. I sat down on the brass kettle
and wiped the streams of pe~rspiration
f,oDo IN q Doodarp Ct Par