The Monmouth inquirer., 1898-08-25

Her mind was full of the stranger
she had met that morning, and she
longed to see him again--to make him
more surely her friend.
II told him we might meet again,
she said speaking half aloud. "Bui
how can we, unless some kind fate
brings us together? How handsome
he was. And he had such a sweet
smile such a kind, manly voice
She flung the card impatiently back
on the table.
"Who cares about Marc Wilber-
force? If he expects | am going to be
civil to him, he is mistaken. | wish
had not put all those fresh flowers in
the room; they are too good for him,
ever so much!'
With an air of disgust she turned
towards the little sitting-room Mrs.
West always reserved for her own use.
Before Rosy had left the hall, the
sound of someone running up the steps
outside made her pause.
In answer to a jerk at the bell-wire-
the bell was out of ortler-she opened
the door, and there stood Mr.. Wilber-
force.
The evening was drawing in, and
where lie stood. his back was to the
light, so that she could not distinguish
his features.
But who else could it have been, if
not Marc NilBerforce?
She did not even question herself as
to his identity.
Scarcely giving a second glance at
him. she drew aside to let him pass.
Mrs West is expecting you1 she
said, quietly. Il will tell her you are
here"
There was a moments silence, dur
ing which Rosy felt his eyes were up
on her, and that he was waiting for
her to look again at him.
II am sorry pray do not let me give
you the trouble" he answered, step
ping on to the mat, hat in hand.
At the sound of his voice, she start
ed, and east swift glance into his
face.
1t was the voice of the stranger she
had met that morning.
The color leaped into her cheeks,
She drew d pace nearer to him, hold
ing out her hand.
"Oh. it is youl" she exclaimed, "a
mingling of surprise and gladness in
her tones. Il thought it was somebody
else-I did not see your face at tiIsts'
You said Mrs. West was expecting
me-
Rosy broke into a bright laugh, and
took up the card she had flung on the
table few minutes since.
Yes; that was when, mistook you
for MIR. Mare WilberfOrce."
He looked grayely ait the card.
70. ny
name,' he replied Il left this card
this morning, after a very satisfactory
interview with Mrs. West"
sThen you are Mr.. Mare Wilber-
force?"
Il have the honor to present myself
to you under that name
And are you coming here to liveg
81 hope 50, if Mrs. West will fulfill
her part of the mornings contract.
Rosy clapped her hands, her sweet
eyes aglow with pleasure.
ST am SO glad" she said. DO you
know was wishing you would come,
instead of the Mare Wilberforce ex-
pected. 1t has all turned out like a
fairy -taleand you are the prince!
Very much in disguise, | am
afraid he replied, thinking how win
some the young face was, with the
soft. happy flush suffusing it. "And
now. my little friend, since | have
placed so much confidence in you. may
I ask how it is | find you under the
roof that is to be my homer"
She looked up at him with surprise,
wondering why he had not understood
all this before.
II live here she answered, closing
the door, as he stepped further into
the hall. This is my home. You can
not think how glad | am to think it is
to be yours, TOO. | hope YOU will never
leave us-it is so horrible when strang-
ers come whom l cannot like
$50 you think you will be able to
like me?'
Il liked you the moment you spoke
to me this morning. Do come into the
room; you look hot and dusty, as
though you had been walking a long
way. You will find it cooler inside.
near the window"
Mare followed her into the room,
and, standing with his hand on the
back of the chair she had put forward
for him, watched her, as she fitted
away in search of Mrs. West.
What charming little creature!
was his inward comment. Il am for
tunate in the choice of my lodgings.
Such a winsome face, and such pretty
ways--is it possible she can be re-
lated to the old woman l saw this
morning."
He thrust the idea from his mind,
as an insult to Rosy.
There was an air of breeding about
her that was unmistakable
Yet had she not called this her
home?
He sat down on the chair, and pulled
meditatiyely at his mOustache.
He was trying not to connect Rosy
with Mrs. West.
1t was absurd--the girl was too re-
fined, delicately cultured, to be related
to the old woman.
His reflections We're interrupted by
the entrance of Mrs. West. putting and
blowing, in her stiffiy starched cotton
gown.
I'm sorry / didn't hear you come" ;"
she said, courtesying, and smoothing
down her apron with both hands. IF
Miss Rosalie hadn't let you in, You
might have stood out there forever