Condon globe. (Condon, Gilliam Co., Or.) 189?-1919, 1901-07-04

| arose 70 receive her diploma, she inyoi.
unfairly glanced In the direction whence
she know ho sat. For an instant their
eyes met, and IN the expression OF his
she read an approval warmer than words
could have expressed.
| That night Mary sat alone In her room,
listening almost neryously to the sound
OF every footstep, aud half-stArtlng up
II u came near her door. But for certain
reasons Mr.. Stuart did not think proper
to call. and while Mary was confidently
expecting him he was several miles on
his way home.
In day or two Mary returned TO Chic
opee, but did not, like ella, lay her books
aside and consider her education finished.
Two or three hours each morning were
devoted % study, o. reading % some
kind. For several weeks nothing was
allowed to interfere with this arrange.
ment, but at the end OF that time the
dnlet OF Mrs. Mason's house was dis
turbed By the unexpected arrival OF Aunt
Martha and Ida who came up TO Chico
pee for the purpose OF Inducing Mrs. Ma.
son aud Mary 20 spend the coming winter
in Boston. At frst Mrs Mason hesitat.
cd, but every objection which either she
or Mary raised was so easily put aside
thatRshe finally consented. Baying she
would be ready 10 90 about the middle OF
November.
CHATTER XIV.
Come this way, Mary. I'll show you
your chamber. It's right here next TO
mine" said Ida Selden. as on the evening
Of her friends arrival she led her up 70
handsomely furnished apartment.
which for many weeks had borne the title
Of "Mary's ROOM"
"0h, how pleasant was Mary's excla-
nation, as she surveyed the room In
which everything was arranged with such
perfect taste.
Mary was too happy 10 speak, and.
dropping into the eaay-chair. she burst
into tears. In a moment Ida. too. was
seated In the same chair, with her arm
around Mary's neck. Then, as her own
eyes CHANGED to fall upon some vases, she
brought one OF them TO Mary. saying,
see, these are for you-a present from
one who bade me present them with his
compliments to the little girl who nursed
him on board tho Windermere, and who
cried because he called her nglyg'
Mary's heart was almost audible In rs
beating. and her checks took On the hue
Of the cushions on which she reclined. Re.
turning the vase to the mantelpiece, Ida
came back to her side, and. bending close
to her face, whispered: Cousin George
told me OF yon years ago, when he FIRST
came here, but forgot oil about II, and
when we were at Mount Hoiyoke never
suspected that you were the little girl ne
used 70 talk 30 much about. But few
days before he went away he reminded
me OF Il again, aud then understood why
he was 90 much interested In you. 1
wonder you never told me you knew him.
for, of course, you Ike him. You can't
help IT,"
Mary only heard a part OF what Ida
said. Just before he went away" Was
he gone, and should she not see him az.
ter ALI A cloud gathered upon her brow.
and Ida, readily divinlng It's cause, re-
piled, "Yes, George Is gone. Either he or
father must so to New Orleans, and so
George, OF course, went. Isn't II too
bad3 ] cried and fretted, but he only
pulled my ears, and said he should think
I'd be glad, for he knew we wouldn't
want a slx-footer domineering over us, and
following US everywhere, MS he would
surely do were he at home"
Mary felt more disappointed than she
was willing to acknowledge, and for a
moment she half-wished herself back 10
Chicopee, but soon recovering her equa.
nimlty, she ventured to ask how long
George was to be gone. k#
Until April, / believe" said Ida; shut
anyway you are to stay until he comes
for Aunt Martha promised to keep you.
don't know exactly what George said to
her about you, but they talked together
more than two hours. and she says you
are to take music lessons and drawing
lessons, and all that. George Is very fond
OF music" W
The next morning between 10 and II
the doorbell rang, and in moment Jen.
ny Lincoln, whose fathers house was
just opposite, came tripping into thc par
lor. She had lost IN measure that To-
tundity OF person so offensive to her
mother, and It seemed to Mary that there
was thoughtful expression on her face
never seen there before, but In all other
respects she was the same affectionate,
merry-hearted Jenny.
II just this minute heard you were
here, and came over just as | was, said
she. After asking Mary IL she wasn't
sorry George had gone, and IL she ex.
pected to find Mr.. Stuart, she said. al
suppose you know Ella Is here, and
breaking eyerybody's heart, of course.
She went to a concert with us last even
ing, and looked perfectly beautiful. Hen.
ry says she Is the handsomest girl he
ever saw, and do hope she'll make
something of him, but rm afraid he Is
only trining with her"
II there was q person in the world
whom Mary thoroughly detested It was
Henry Lincoln, and her eyes sparkled
and dashed 80 Indignantly that Ida no
ticed 1t, and secretly thought that Henry
Lincoln would for once find his match.
After time Mary turned to Jenny, say
ing, "You haven't told me word about
about William Bender. Is he well?"
Jenny blushed deeply, and, hastily re-
plying that he was the last satlne abe saw
him, started up, whispering In Mary's
ear, "Oh, I've got SO much to tell you
but ! must go now"
Ida accompanied her to the door, and
asked why Rose, too, did not call. In
her usual frank, open way Jenny answer
ed, 'You know why. Rose is so queer"
Ida understood her, and replied, very
we'll; but tell her that il she doesn't see
ft to notice my visitors certainly shall
not be polite to hers"
This message had the desired effect, for
Rose, who was daily expecting a Miss
King from Philadelphia, felt that nothing