The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1901-02-28
RY KATE M CIMARY

1t was q comfortable, common little
room that wherein mother and daugh-
ter sat. The rag carpet had mellowed
to dull tones and tints so subdued as
to suggest the wonderful weaves of the
Orient. There was a glass lamp on the
crocheted mat of green wool which
ornamented the round walnut center
table. The couple of wooden rockers
had crazy-work cushions and head
rests. On the shelf which did duty for
a mantel was a clock, a china dog, and
two frost-white glass vases decorated
with scarlet roses. The yellow light
OF the winter afternoon CAM in be-
tween the chenille curtains, and gave
to the oval cheek of the girl by the
hearth an almost peach-like translu-
cence. Except for that skin of child
like fairness and the lustrousness of
her long gray eyes. Leslie Ferguson
could hardly have been called a pretty
girl. Her face in repose was sober
almost somtre. But when she was
pleased, gay, animated she quite took
the palm from the other girls in that
part of the county. Just now her face
reflected her mood, which was that Of
downright melancholy.
Mrs. Ferguson. still sentinel at the
window, kept issuing bulletins. Hes
got far as the rye patch now. First
l thought t vas Ellis Dix. but it amt.
Ellis don't come here much since you
got to putin on airs after gittin' back
from Cartville. This one is taller'n-
Ellis-he's got a moustache too. He
don't belong in these parts. You go
to the back door, LESSEE. I'm skeered
of the wind in my face with the neu-
ralgy I got. Find out where he's from.
You can tell him where's the tool
chest in the barn II he wants to fix
his harness. The1-he's knockin'!"
Mrs. Ferguson looked frowningly
after the s~low-moving form Of her
daughter.
Il wish I'd never let her go visitin'
to Cartville!" she was muttering to
herself in accents Of annoyance.
"Praps If I hadn't told her she
shouldn't have had anything to say to
that Rene Ferguson she'd never have
thought of lookin' at him. Like as not
t was just the contrairiness of a girl
that made her take up with him. An
then, to come home and throw over
Ellis Dix like ne wasn't worth wipin'
her shoes on-him with the likliest
bunch of steers of any man in the
township! Sayin' she'd marry Rene
-or no one. An now mopin' away
like the life was throwed after her.
We've had trouble enough with them
Fergusons Of Cartvi1le. If they was
blood relations instead of only hap
.tpenin' to be folks of the same name,
their family and our'n couldn't have
got on worse all these years we been
dealin' up to Cartyille!"
Leslie, opening the back door, saw
%silhouetted against the white expanse
of the snowy prairies, a big, burly fig
ure in great-coat and SLOUGH hat.
IF you need the tool box" she be-
gan with perfunctory politeness.
you'll find it in the right-hand-"
She broke off with a little gasp-her
heart plunging.
"Lessie!" said the stranger. my
girl-Lessie!"
Then the slim little form in the blue,
g%old-braided gown was swallowed up
in the fervent grasp of two powerful,
rough-coated arms.
"Qh, Rene!" Her voice was sweet
tremuluus. "Oh, Rene-how dared
yOu?"
He kissed the loving reproach on her
lips to silence.
For you!" he answered. i've
driven e from Cartville to see your
father. I'm going to ask him for you.
And If he refuses" The masterful
look that came into his blue eyes was
a good thing to see.
"But-Rene! Father has gone to
Iowa And wen when he is at home
he has nothing to say II mothers
around"
But he's been keeping up the feud
between the families all these years,
and"
Mono! It's been mother. Father
has only fired the bullets she made. II
you can once get mother to favor you
hush, here she Isl"
Lands sakes, I know now who that
young man Isl" The voice of Mrs.
Ferguson preceded her like a herald
ing horn. She appeared in the door
way, rosy, excited, voluble. Hes the
nephew of Hiram Sands has been -ex-
pectin' to come to stay till ploughing
time. Come in Mr.. Sands-that's your
name, amt it,,SsTom Sands? Hiram. he
went to Chicago with cattle. He says
Sorsyousto make yourself to home till
he gifts back. The house is took keer
of by old Betsy Lynch. She amt much
account. You better stop right here
till the boss is home. Got your buggy
out Of kilter, didn't you? LESSEE, you
pint out the barn to him. Well have
supper soon's ! can git some spice cake
stirred up an the pork fried. You set
the table, Lessie!" And she hustled
OF into the buttry.
Leslie locked at her lover. Her
face was lovely in its sudden illumina-
ton. Her eyes were sparkling. She
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