The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1895-08-28

HOLE NO. 23OO.
A FOOLISH MASQUERADE,
Three girls dOmiciled i'm the next
room. There's an end to my writing
for one month, at leastr
Kenneth Ross pushed his papers in
4 to confused heap, shut his desk with
"a yindictive snap as he lighted cigar.
''Three chattering, noisy girls, each
with tongue three times its proper
length, There's my cousin Flora, Alice
| Aymer and Rosa Fernall-blue eyes,
black eyes and melting gray; by the
way, that little monkey Rosa, isn't
bad looking. | rather fancy that peeu-
liar shade Of brown hair. She would
make a tolerable study for my next
heroine. I may as well put her TO
some useful purpose. Heigho. / think
Aunt Meg was crazy to invite all those
girls here at Onee"'
He paused moment, as the merry
peal of girlish laughter echoed in the
adjoining apartment.
They're laughing at me. Girls al
ways think bachelor fair game"
Tap! tap. tap, sounded softly on the
panel of his door, and he had just time
to take his heels Off the table before
Flora Edgewsrth put her head into the
room.
"Cousin Kenneth, are you there?'
"Well, what's wanting now"
'A1ay we come in?"
81 may as well say yes"'
~ just want tn, girls to see what
dear little den you've got here"
Flora threw open the door and ad-
mitted her two companions.
''Here he Is, girls! the old bachelor,
as he appears in his native wildsr'
'Now, young ladies'" said Mr.. Ross,
throwing his half-smoked cigar out of
the window, "I'll trouble you to be a
little less unceremoniousr'
For Alice and Flora had pOunced on
his sheets of loose manuscript like hon
ey bees on Il bed Of heliOtrOpe, aud
were laughing over the rather iilegible
chirogTaphy Miss FerualI stood near
the door, little confused and very
pretty, in her bushes and uncertainty.
"DoH't be cross, Kenneth, - said Flo
ra. Were going down to the post Of
flee now. Rosa Feruall has written a
twelve page letter to her sweetheart in
Canada"
"Fiorar exclaimed Rosa.
"And, pursued the relentless Flora,
"we're going TO post it. Come girls"
And Mr. Ross was left alone with the
heavy musk roses nodding at the open
easement and the dreamy murmur of
maple bOughs and far off bees in his
ear.
"a twelve-page letter to her sweet
heartr' he pOndered. ''She must have
had something very interesting to
write. Canada, ell: | wish il was Van
Diemen's Landr'
Mr.. Ross rose from his easy chair and
began to walk up and down the floor.
ats too confoundcd hot To breathe
here" he said, impatiently taking up
his hat "Til 60 and take tramp in
the woods
Flora Edgewortn had succeeded in
planting = ranking thorn in her eous-
in's breast, all unconscious though she
had been.
The sun was low in the sky when
Kenneth returned from his abstracted
ramble in the woods, and the wide, old
fashioned country house was very still
a. he ascended toward his own apart
ment.
"HallO"'
Mr. Ross gazed vacantly around the
room with something 1.-THE bewilderej
feeling that might have belonged TO the
Eastern Prince when he felt himself
transported from pole To pole in an en-
chanted dream.
"Tm in the wrong room, believe
for there Is Flora Edgeworth's light
wrap on the bed, and Rosa's hat and no
end of ribbons and gloves and lace col
lars on the bureau"
He balanced the coquettish little hat
on his hand.
$50 this Is the fashionable style Of
chapeau, eh? | wonder now whether
Rosa's hat would fit me"'
Mr. Ross adjusted the article jauntiiy
| on one side of his curls and viewed
himself in the mirror.
Upon my word, it don't look so
bad, And ROW where's the sacque. y
little tight in the sleeves, hut other
wise quite decent fit if a fellow holds
his arms we'll back There's Alice's
blue muslin dress. I've two minds
and half to put it ON, just for the joke
of the thingr'
\ momentary silence ensged, broken
/ by the :us;ling of muslin.
Don't meet round the waist by Il
good six inches, but can hold it up.
wonder what makes the thing drag on
the floor and cling round ones legs 50.
| Oh, | knOw-the crinOline ought TO go
underr
"Tm not certain but that | should
make quite nice looking woman, s"
unused Kenneth, strutting backward
and forward before the mirror. ''On
the whoIe-Tomb of the Prophet. is
that the girls.'''
Mr.. Ross gave blindly desperate
jerk at the saeque, and pull at the
crinOline; but all in vain. The gay
voices, intermingled here and there
with ringing laugh, or a snatch OF
song, drew nearer and nearer.
For an instant Mr.. Ross wildly con-
templated rush through the hall To
his own door, but moments reflection
convinced him that sucha retreat would
be impossible.
Il must stay and face it outr' he
I thOuUht "but hold on there's the clos