Pine Bluff daily graphic., 1896-11-08

A4tb hSNp regret ddf J0dIS Watcned Mir Graham disappear. "Perhaps l ought to have asked him to sit down, and tried to explain to him about Uncle Jacll's business. It's too late now-and time for ny train"
 After nasty lunch at home she went on to the pretty little hall where the concert was to take place. There wild confusion reigned, for the distressed performers had just learned that by some mistake the hall had been let first to another party for Friday night. "He says that we can't have the hall for an other week unless we give our concert tomorrow night, announced the leader wrathfully, as he concluded long par ley with the janitor.
 'Of course we can't do that" said timp-loolzing girl, dejectedly.
 Lets try came bravely from Mar jorie.
 Let's" said the girl standing next.
 Lets" was taken up by the club, and the matter was settled.
 It was quarter of three when Mar jorie slipped quietly into the office Her uncle was still absent and the boy was out. She had just settled herself at the desk when the telephone bell rang.
 'eThis is Mr. Graham. Has Mr Lock- wood returned ?"
 Not yet, was the response.
 'sIf he should come in soon will you tell him that Mir Graham is waiting for his train at the King street station and would be glad to have a business talk with him?''
 Certainly, but I'm afraid he won't be here before half past three."
 Marjorie went back to her desk in discontent. It was such shame that Uncle Jack could not be there. Five minutes of thought ensued, then she pushed back her chair with a deter mined serape. She pinned on her hat, scrubbed her uncle hasty note which she absent=mindedly dropped into her pocket, rummaged about in his desk and went off down the street with an armful of papers. She was couple of blocks away when the clocks struck three.
 At half past three the colonel stepped brisllly into the room. He waved long bundle in green felt covering toward the corner where the typewriter stood. Then his pleasure died away. "Again!" he sighed. "Yes, her hat and gloves are gone. Matthewl What time did you get back from these errands?"
 Bout three o'clock, sir"
 "Was Miss Clements here then2"
 "No, sir'
 every well. You may go up to the bindery. and see if that set of Scott is ready. If not, wait for it."
 "But they wasn't going to have it done till tonight
 "You may go now." said the colonel, sharply. He walked the floor impa- tiently, growing angrier as time went by.
 At ten minutes past four Marjorie walked brisllly into the office, happy light in her eyes and an elated air that scattered the colonel's last reserve of patience.
 What do you think ?" she cried, joy ous1y I've"
 ''I don't care to know" interrupted her uncle, crisply "As you have your self concluded our business arrange ment you can have nothing to say to me of business matters, and I haven't time for chatter"
 Mariorie's eyes grew large and black, the happy look slowly died out of her face. "But the note explains"
 "What note could explain your stay ing away like this, when I had given you an extra hour as special fayor?"
 But ] was here before three o'clock. Uncle Jack" she began.
 Strange that Matthew didn't see you" he smurmured, sarcastically.
 No one had ever doubted her word and she was cut to the quick She folded her lips in a thin, straight line, T way she had when she turned obsti- nately dumb.
 You needn't finish out the day" was the colonel's pointed remark. You will have to work pretty hard to win my respect again, but of course I shall always be fond of you-in other than business waaA" he added, grimly. Then he turnsa on his heel and went over to the telephone, for he did not like to watck the white lines settling about Marjories mouth.
 She moved about quietly returning the armful of papers she had taken and making everything neat about her desk. As she went toward the door that green felt bundle caught her eye. She leaned over and kissed it tenderly, her beau- tiful banjo, when she thought the colonel was not looking But he saw, and it nearly broke down his anger
 Marjorie went straight to her moth er's comforting arms. You mustn't ask me about it now," she whispered. T can't talk about it now. But you'll believe in me, won't you?"
 "Why, yes, dear yes," answered the little mother, soothingly, while her heart ached for the fearful bundle of woe i'll her arms. Mother knows it's all right"
 The first grief spent itself, but it was a sadfaced o,irI who sat down to write