Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1899-11-15

likes, lAlkluk ONcI OOOAb WIN uCE 1u&
getting her to read passages from hi
or her favorites.. Thus q very real and
pleasant friendship sprang up betweez
them.
that the lad was growing to love her
and many long hours at night she de
bated the question with herself. Har
old was much younger than Mis-
Wade, very handsome. and would sool
be very rich. 1t was a temptation b
the woman. who knew Just what th'
world had to offer her.
She had nursed eight years, and knew
that two more were about as many u
the average nurse could do. Ther
would come some offer to become ma
iron Of an orphan asylum or some sim
lar position, or else she would bt
obliged to hunt for q chance as com
paniOn to some nervous crank or ole
person. 1t was not a tempting future
to look forward to, and here before hel
was ease II she would take It
The thought Of Violet Grant alway,
intruded Just as she had made up hel
mind that she would encourage Har
old's love-making. II am afraid thai
she loves him." was the thought that
closed all soliloquies.
Little Violet Grant. with her shy
tribute Of flowers. her patient waiting
In the little dressingrOom. and heI
eager questions about Harold's vel
fare. 1t brought Harold's thoughts tt
1 troubled pause. too. whenever he wat
allowing himself day dream abou
Miss Wade. He and Violet had been
schoolmates, and he admired her shy
sweet ways, and had given her many
reasons to think she was dear to him
though he had never directly proposed
to her.
But, oh, dear!" he would Sigh. "sht
is just as l said, a violet, while my
nurse Dimple is a full-blown rose.
wish she wouldn't bring those con.
founded flowers"
Miss Violet was In love in her OWE
way with Miss Wade. too. considering
her the savior of the boy she loved so
tenderly; the twelve years between
them made the nurse seem an impossi-
BILE rival. She chatted with her quite
freely one afternoon. telling her how
pleased she was that Harold would be
dressed and on the veranda in a day
or two. IT owe you so much, Miss
Wade" she finished, with q pretty
blush and eyes full Of tears.
Miss Wade went up to her own room
with hot cheeks. "And you planned
to rob her." she scolded at her refec.
ton in the glass. well, that's over,
you mercenary wretch" and with the
same firm expression she wore when
a delirious patient she went
Harold was asleep when she came int
the room. and he looked boyish, even
with a six-weeks' growth Of silky beard
on his chin. What a fool 1 was to
think the boy could be happy with ME.
or wouldn't hate me IN q year." she
thought. and laughed grimly.
The next day Harold was well enough
to be dressed and wheeled out on the
veranda. 1t was n June morning, and
Violet Grant came up the path with her
arms full of roses.
II overheard you say you likeL
roses better than viOlets, Harold" she
said simply, "and, oh, l am 50 glad to
see you getting we'll"
Harold took both her hands and
pressed them warmly. reddening sud-
denly with something like shame
Miss Wade came g just then WI.
4 magazine in j" and declared
she would h" them a story,
eISo W.. much for her
patients good. .. It produced a
bit of embroidery ana Harold leaned
back luxuriously in his chair and quiet
" studied the two before him.
Violet was small and very fair. with
family pink cheeks which blushed
easily and prettily. and big blue eyes
that had never lost their baby express
sion Of depth and innocence. Her
hands were very small and slender, and
handled her embroidery floss as though
meant for such work only. She wore
a pale pink muslin that floated about
her softly, making 1t seem as though
she perched on her chair like butter.
fly. One tiny toe tapped the door a.
she rocked back and forth. The big
blue eyes sought Harold's, and smiled
frankly and happily while the coloa
deepened in her cheeks.
Harold answered the smile and
turned embarrassed toward the reader.
= ho onA
oftenest describe as comfortable, and
to such we turn instinctively in time
OF distress of any kind. but at other
times fail to admire.
How big she is side of Violet, "
Harold. "and how much older
she seems out here in the sunlight than
she did when I was sick. Why, she
must be 30. What a fool was!'
And he turned once more toward the
girl of 1s with love glance that sent
the bushes racing over her sweet face.
At the close of the story Miss Wade
went in to make an eggnog, and Violet
rose to go.
II shall be 21 next week." said Har-
old, land ! shall have something to
tell you, Violet. my violet" he whis-
pered, as she gave him her hand. Il
promised father l wouldn't engage my
self till l was 21. but I didn't promise
not to love any one. Do you love me,
Violet"
"I'Il tell you next week." she an
swered with a laugh. and ran away.
blushing.-Boston Globe.
The Fruit Was Wax
When the great account Is rendered,