Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1894-12-15

selves should know. After all every
man has his hobby"

=
can 1? l believe if you would only let
me tell you the whole affair from begin
ming to end you wouldn't be SO much
annoyed about it. 1t really isn't so bad
as you think. Alicia is a most delight
full girl, and it has been a recreation for
me, you know, and 1 have been slog-
ging away so of late, and"-
The door slammed. Mrs. Waterhouse
went up stairs to her room and hurried
ly, very hurriedly, packed portman-
teau. There was time to catch the mail
at Charing Cross, and she meant to get
away to Biarritz, away from the sitting
atmosphere of this house, away from
London. She rang for her maid.
Parker"
"Yes, ma am"
''The mail goes at s from Charing
Cross, 1 think?''
''It used to 60 at s, ma 'am," said
Parker cautiously. when we went
away, if you remember
Eyes, yes, of course. want you to
pack a bag for yourself, and we will
catch the mail tonight.
"Catch the mail, ma am, tonight"
eyes, yes. Lose no time, please, and
send out for cab
"Well, never!' murmured Parker.
Mrs. Waterhouse had some intention
of having one fine, big. square scene
with her husband before she left, but
there was little time to spare. More
over, it occurred to her that she could
be quite as bitter in we'll composed
letter to be dispatched from Biarritz as
in hasty interview.
"Come along, Parker" she called.
''It's all very we'll to say come along"
muttered Parker discontentedly, "but
this is a rum sort of a game, and l
don't 'alf cotton to it."
"We've got 20 minutes. Tell the man
to drive carefully, but to drive very
fast.''
The most CALLING thing about the
whole deplorable affair was the certain
ty that her mother would meet her at
the station with an I-told-you-s my
portland expression. Still there was
no one else to whom she could go, and
at any rate she could always control
mamma. She always had done so.
Charing Cross.
1.-THE mail, lidy?" said the porter
oivilly. 1.-THE mail goes at ite fifteen.
It's later'n it use to be. -
Parker, will you get some papers?
Get one or two for yourself, you know"
Parker, still rather inclined to be
cross, went to the bookstall. 1t half re-
stored the excellent maid to complacent
submission to what she termed all this
ramping about to find the new number
of 1.-The Lady's Own Chatterbox" ON
sale. 1t was her own particular favorite
journal.
"We'll get i'll now, Parker" said
Mrs. Waterhouse. There's 20 minutes
to wait, but we may as we'll take our
seats. Seconds, please, porter"
They found comfortable corner seats.
For awhile they watched the stout, per-
spring ladies and the slim daughters
and the pet dogs The usually demure
Parker sniggered so much when she
saw two Frenchmen kiss each other
that she dropped "The Lady's Own
ChatterboX. Mrs. Waterhouse took it
up and held it in her hand.
II must read," she whispered to her.
self. 81 must do something to keep
myself from thinking. shall faint if
I don't divert my thoughts.
The "Lady's Own Chatterbox" lay
on her lap. She put one small foot
against the seat opposite and leaned for
ward to get the steady glare of the cleo
trio light Oh the page.
ANY more going on?' cried the in
spector on the platform aggressively.
"We commence this week story by
a new writer, Walter House, entitled
'Alicia's Only Love- 1t will be re-
plete with romantic interest, and, in
short, wonderful picture of high class
life of the present day, with all its
faults and foibles."
"Now, then," cried the inspector on
the platform in an aggrieved tone to a
belated passenger, "are you going on
there, or are you not going on?"
Mrs. Waterhouse began to read.
Chapter was headed, 1.-THE Countess :"
Alicia was half leaning, half re-
clining ON an ottoman reading deli
cately scented letter from Sir Harold de
oSSi. IL OpCllSu tHuS. L yOu,
dearest, to believe that am quite true
to you. l am bound by certain ties to
others, but to you, my sweetheart, my
own darling Alicia
'Parker!" screamed Mrs. Water
house, with gasp of delight. Come
out quickly"
Right away" shouted the inspect
or. "Stand away there, please"
"Here, stop" cried Mrs. Waterhouse
She caught up her skirts and jumped
nimbly out. An active porter seized her
bags, and as the train was moving
caught the descending Parker neatly
and swung her round upon her feet.
'Ow's that, umpire?" asked the
porter.
"O-u-t, out!' said the inspector.
He turned his hand lamp to Mrs. Wa
terhouse. Hope you're all right,
ma a'am?"
"Thank you, yes, said Mrs Water
house breathlessly. "I'm all right now. -
Pail Mall Budget.
Matter of Taste.