The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1894-03-14

ingly.
do my best to repress smile, and so
taking the book from her hand retire
to the privacy of my sanctum, where 1
proceed to inscribe my name in my lar
gest, manifest chirography. Idry it care
fully and return to the reception room.
"Oh, how very kind in your my Wis
itor gushes again ~ shall prize it as
long as live! Are you his sister,"
shake my head.
''Oh, not hs-wife?"
| fancy CONSERVATION in the sweet,
shrill, girlish voice. Evidently the fact
of better half" would forever obscure
the fame of the popular writer.
Again shake my head.
We're st. Adams is not married" /
return and the violet eyes dance with
delight. She is pleased and does not at
tempt to conceal it.
81 am his nearest friend" | added ex-
planatorily, nearer to him than any one
else"
And then bow her out and 20 back
to my work. But all day long am Wis
tied by thoughts of the pretty college
girl, and | fall to wondering if Brother
Tom paid his wager like a man of honor.
The next day We're st. Adams re-
ceives cards Of invitation to several af-
fairs. The envelopes are all addressed
to MIR. We're st. Adams, and gradually it
dawns upon me that / am universally
believed to be Of the masculine gender.
1t is amusing and provoking, but the
situation has it's compensations. de-
cline every invitation i'll We're St. Adams
fool ol,
as do so.
Day after day am besieged by callers
who demand to look upon the face of the
mysterious st. Adams. OF course 1 re-
fuse everybody. double Abby's wages
and station her in the small entrance
hall, with orders to admit no one 1 re-
ceive letters from my publishers re-
preaching me with my seclusion.
Don't be hermit, my dear fellow"
says one of the letters from the august
head of the house, ga little society will
freshen you up, and besides you have
really made Il hit in that last article, and
people are desirous of meeting you. My
son, whom we have just admitted to the
firm is very anxious to meet YOU"
And SO on until feel the blood grow
cold within my veins at thought of pos
sible complications.
Can l always preserve my incognita?
Will they not besiegc my den and ferret
the truth and me-out of it together? 1t
comes at last. One bright winter morn
ing Abby ushcrs into my presence Il port
ly looking old gentleman, and with him
u man of some so years, tall, dark, hand
some-just such faco as love to por-
tray as the faces of my heroes.
Il beg your pardon!'
Mr.. Anterior falls back, overcome
with surprise
''The servant showed us in here. We
are DESTROYS Of meeting Mr.. We're st.
Adams. We arc of the publishing firm
of Anterior & Sons. l wish to see MI.
st. Adams i'll regard to some especial
work. Will you kindly request him to
give us audience?
feel my face growing red-redder-
reddest. L rise from my chair and mo-
ton them to be seated near. open nv
mouth to blurt forth the whole truth.
but some perverse imp seizes my tongue,
and instead falter:
"You cannot see We're st. Adams to-
day, gentlemen. He-is indisposed.'
So he is, indeed, indisposed to receive
visitors.
you are Mrs. We're St. Adams, pre-
sumo" he observes. And oh, DEPTHS
of infamy! l am SO embarrassed, SO
overwhelmed with embarrassment I'M
der the cool, steady gaze of the younger
man that L bow and mutter something
which sounds strangely like Yes"
AT that moment there is u curious bus
tie within tho flat where my little home
is situated. An uproar all ut once, and
i'll PUSHES Abby, wild and dishevcled,
and clings 10 my arm like mad creu-
turc.
"Oh, Miss We're! Miss Vere:' she
shricks, 1.-The house is OH fire Come, let
us get away, or we shall be burned
alive!''
1t is all true. The fire las been burn
ing so long unsupported that now it
breaks out with irresistible force, and
soon tho whole building is in flames,
But long before then we are quite safe.
My two visitors bear my desk down
stairs between them, and while the elder
man keeps watch and ward over it out
side upon the street the younger returns
to me.
eve must get your husband out" he
says eagerly. "Show me his room, and
will do my best to save him."
My husband.'' falter feebly "Why,
have no husbands!
"Then who is We're st. Albans?"
II amr
So the truth is told, and somehow l
feel better.
When we are all safe on terra firna,
my new friend turns to me and says in
allow tone: