Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1897-03-01

About" begins the professor, and
stammers, and ceases.
Everything" says she, with little
nod
1T is impossible to talk to Aunt Jane
She doesn't talk, she only argues, and
always wrongly. But you are different
] can see that. Now tell me, she leans
even more forward and looks intently at
the professor her pretty brows wrinkled
as if with extreme and troublouS thought
What are the duties of a GUARDIAN!
''Eh?' said the professor. He moves
his glasses up to his forehead and then
pulls them down again. Did ever anx-
ious student ask him question so difficult
Of answer as this one-that this small
maiden had propounded?
You can think it over" says she most
graciously. There is no hurry, and /
am quite aware that one isn't made a
guardian every day. Do you think you
could make it out whilst | count forty!'
Il think / could make it out more
quickly if you didn't count at all, says
the professor. who is growing warm
The duties of a guardian-are-e r-to--
er--to see that ones ward is comfortable
and happy
Then there is a great deal of duty for
you to do" says she solemnly. letting her
chin slip into the hollow of her hand.
Il know--I'm sure of it,. says the pre-
fessor with a sigh that might be called a
groan. But your aunt, Miss Majendie-
your mothers siSter-can--
Il don't believe she's my mothers Sis
ter" says Miss Wynter calmly. Il have
seen my mother picture 1t is lovely.
Aunt Jane was a changeling-Im sure Of
it, But never mind her. You were go
ing to say-|
THAT Miss Majendie, who is virtually
your guardian, can explain it all to you
much hnttpr than | can
Aunt Jane is not my guardian. The
mild look of inquiry changes to one OF
light anger The white brow contracts.
And certainly she could never make one
else?'
"She will look after"
Il told you / don't care about Aunt
Jane. Tell me what you can do
''See that your fortune is not"
II don't care about my fortune either,
about my happiness. Will you see to
thatT'
"Of course" says the professor grave
'"Then you will take me away. from
Aunt Janev The small vivacious face is
now all aglow 81 am not happy with
Aunt Jane. II clasping her hands, and
letting a quick, yindictive fire light her
eyes-'I hate Aunt Jane. She. says
things about poor papa tnat-Oh! how l
hate herr
"But-you shouldn't -you really should
not. | feel certain You ought not says
the professor, growing wagner every mo-
ment.
Ought l not?" with a quick. little
laugh that is all anger and no mlrth.
Il do, though, for all that! l'-pauslng
and regarding him with a somewhat
tragic air that sits most funnily upon
her-"am not going to stay here much
longer!
"What?" says the professor aghast.
But, my dear-N1iss Wynter, I'm afraid
you must"
That's nothing nothing at all-eyen
guardian is better than that And
you are my guardian. Why" coming
closer to him and pressing five. soft little
upon his arm, why can't you take me
away:
|I!'
Yes, yes you She comes even
nearer to him, and the pressure of the
small fingers grows more eager-there is
something in them now that might we'll
be termed coaxing. Do" says she.
ooh! Impossiblev' says the professor.
The color mounts to his brow He al
most shakes off the little clirging fin
gers in his establishment and agitation.
Has she no common senSe-no knowledge
of the things that be?
She has drawn back from him and is
regarding him somewhat strangely:
impossible to leave Aunt Jane| ques-
tons she 1t is evident she has not
puzzled ''Well,' defantly, 1--WE shall
see!' !.
'Why don't you like your Aunt Jane?"
asks the professor distractedly. de
doesn't feel nearly as fond of his dead
friend as he did an hour ago.
6C1, Sc A Y1y1fI
If she were your Aunt Jane you would
know"
Il really wish,'' interrupts Miss Wyn-
ter petulantly, ''you wouldn't call me my
dear Aunt Jane calls me that when
she is going to say something horrld to
me. Papa''-she pauses suddenly, and
tears rush to her dark eyes.
eyes What of your father? asks the
professor hurriedly, the tears raising ter
ror i'll his SOUL
"You knew hin-speak to me of him,
says she, a little TREMENDOUSLY.
u knew him very well indeed. He
was very good to me. when--when | was
younger. [ was very fond of him.
HE was good to everyone" says Miss
Wynter, staring hard at the professor.
1t is occurring to her that this grave,
sedate man with his glasses could never
have been younger. He must always
have been older than the gay, handsome,
debonaire father, who had been SO dear
TO her.
"What are you going to tell me about
him?" asks the professor gently.
"Only what he used to call me
Doatie! l suppose wistfully, ''you
couldn't call me that?"
Il am afraid not" says the professor,
coloring even deeper.
Pm sorry" says she, her young mouth
taking sorrowful curve. but don't
call me Miss Wynter, at all events, or
my dear l do so want someone to call
me by my Christian name,' says the
"Perpetua-is it not?" says the pro-
fessor, ever so kindly.
"No-'Pet'" corrects she. ''Its short
err you know, and far easier to say
"Oh!' says the professor. To him it
seems very difficult to say. Is it posi-
BILE she is going to ask him to call her
by that familiar-almost affectionate--
name? The girl must be mad.
'Yes-much easier" says Perpetua:
you will find that out, after a bit, when