Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1897-11-19


Isabel is popping some corn sbe,n
De glad you happened over to helm eat
he led the way into the long SITTING
room at the end Of the hall.
Isabel was on her knees before an
open wood fire shaking corn pepper.
The white kernels snapped and az.
panded with pleasant sound.
The lamp had not been lit. Init tbe
nrellght made the room light and COW.
Isabel, here is Mr.. Holderman. NV
dear. 4" -''''"' NY
She sprang up.
didn't hear you come in Good
evening. Come over here by the fire.
why, It's ClintW she said as he came
INTO the glow. II thought father meant
your father I never think of you as Mr..
Holdermani Have some corn. "
She held the pepper open before him.
I'm sure never think of you as Miss
Hilton" he said, plunging his hand
into the corn and laughing. "That
would be little too much like stran-
gers as long as we've known each 9th
Ell"
The judge cleared his throat.
Il have always decidedly disliked the
lntormality of country people in calling
every one by their Christian names i"
he said. ut leaves no degree in init
macy, But L suppose it is impossible to
know where to draw the line"
Isabel went back and knelt before the
fire again.
"Oh, l don't know" she said. shak-
ing the pepper vigorously. "As long as
1t is custom don't think any one
feels it mark of special intimacy, and
so the custom is protected by being a
custom"
The young man sat awkwardly in his
chair and was silent
They seemed to be closing the doors
against any thought he might have of
closer intimacy with the family.
The judge left the room for a mo-
ment and came back with lighted
lamp and placed it on the claw legged
table in the center of the room. He had
put on long dressing gown, faced with
crimson quilted silk, and now he drew
his great chair up before the fire and
stretched himself out in it,
Come, Mr. Holderman, l will let
you shake the pepper for me, and I'll
go down cellar and get some apples. -
Isabel looked at him with merry
twinkle in her eyes as she held the han
die toward him and then ran out of the
room.
Clint grasped the handle of the pop
| per with the delight of success flooding
his veins Isabel had never before given
him reason to believe that she cared for
him that could compare with that look.
Daylight would find him sitting right
there, but he would beat the judges
watch and gain the opportunity of
speaking to her 1t was a delightful
evening The judge partook of the pop
corn and the conversation was more
than usually affable and entertaining.
Isabel sat on the opposite side Of the
fireplace and crocheted on a blue wool
scarf. There were pink spots burning
her cheeks, and her eyes were very
sweet. The time passed on until the
noisy clock on the mantel clearly and
forcibly announced the hour of 10.
1t had been comparatively easy this
far, but now was the time when Clint
usually went home.
The real contest was about to begin.
The judge showed his chair back tc
the table, picked up paper and began
to read.
From time to time he glanced oveI
the top of his paper at the two talking
before the fire, but still read on.
When the clock struck IL, he threw
the paper down, pulled his chair bach
to the fire and drew the young man into
an animated political discussion.
Isabel stirred about the room, correct
ly putting things in order for the night
1t was nearing midnight. For the
last 10 minutes the conversation hac
begun to lag.
There were cold minutes Of complete
silence.
Had you noticed that had TRADED
horses?" Clint asked in one painful
pause.
"No, have you?'' Isabel asked, com
ing forward, with interest
Eyes. I've traded the grays TO
George Merwin's blacks. OF cours,
there was considerable to boot. They g
like the wind in my new cutter"
AZ should think they would" Isabe
drew deep breath. II do like blacl
horses Inever cared for gray ones.
always think of having to look for red
headed girl" she laughed. II shoul'