Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-10-13

Chatterbox. Mrs. waterhouse took Il IN
and held II in her hand.
professor is not coming. ma am, / sup
poser asked Parker respectfully.
No. Parker. He is not coming"
Rem inds me-" said Parker. coughing
slightly and pulling on her loose black cot
ton gloves. reminds me of the time when
We all went out to Italy when you was
married ma'am. / shall never forget that
time There was me and you and the pro-
fessor-"
Mrs. Warehouse gave a little scream.
Piease don't speak to me for little
while, Parker. II want to read
She began, now that the first heat was
over, TO wonder what her future life would
De Ike. She was a dutiful daughter. but
HE with mamma at Biarritz (mamma es-
"reminiscences, mamma with a prediction
In regard to the table in favor OF every
thing being boiledD did not seem to her 20
De the cheeriest possible existence. She
looked at the tiny gold watch on her wrist.
but could not see the time until she had
patted each eye with her handkerchief.
Parker, bolt upright In her corner. after the
manner OF Mrs. Wilfer, gave a sympathetic
sniff.
Eight ten
Doors were being closed. second class pas
sengers were rushing on. crying. Get in
anywhere 1T is never your frst-class
passengers who cry Get i'm anywhere"
Il must read" whispered young Mrs
Waterhouse to herself. Il must do some
thing TO keep myself from thinking. l shall
faint IL don't divert my thoughts"
The Ladys Own ChatterboX lay on her
lap. She put one small foot against the
seat opposite and leaned forward to get
the steady glare Of the electric light on the
page.
Any more going on?" cried the inspector
on the platform aggressively.
I'VE commence this week a story by n
rev writer, Walter House, entitled, Alicia s
Only Love- 1t will be found replete with
NJ in -1,ars H.
full picture of high-class life OF the present
day, with all its faults and foibles.'
Now, them" cried the inspector on tho
platform. in an aggrieved tone to a he
lated passenger, ARE you going on there
or are you not going on?'
Mrs. Waterhouse began to read. Chapter
/ was headed THE Countess"
alicia was half leaning, half reclining
on an ottoman, reading a delicately scented
letter from Sir Harold de Beer. 1t opened
thus: Il want you, my dearest. TO believe
That L am quite true TO you. | am bound
by certain ties to others, but TO you. my
sweetheart. my own dearest Alicia
Parker screamed Mrs. Waterhouse.
with gasp of delight. Come out quickly
Right away shouted the inspector.
stand away there. please
Here, stop" cried Mrs. Waterhouse.
She caught up her skirts and jumped
nimbly out. An active porter seized the
bags, and, as the train was moving. caught
the descending Parker neatly, and swung
lows that, umpire?" asked the porter,
"O-u-t, out" said the inspector. He
turned his hand lamp to Mrs. Waterhouse.
Hope you're all right, ma'am."
Thank you, yes,'' said Mrs. waterhouse,
breathlessly. I'm all right now
The Hour Hand, interested in it's story.
had not noticed the close approach of the
other. Down below the porters, armed with
giant brooms, were sweeping the dust off
the platform on to the waiting passengers
Inc bookstall was closing and the boys
were having a furtive game of SNOWFALL
with the rolled-up discarded placards of the
evening papers.
The professor is still writing, anony-
mously, for the Ladies' Own Chatterbox,"
remarked the Hour Hand, "and his wife
doesn't mind
Il wish you'd mind" said the Minute
hand, with some bitterness. 1t was sew
enteen minutes to nine. when you've
quite finished all your chow-row, perhaps
you'll kindly allow me to pass"