The Newtown bee. (Newtown, Conn.) 1877-current, 1901-11-01

royalty.
"How nicely you've done that one,"
remarked the professor. ON take it
for the cold ham,
Then he completed operations by
hastily rubbing the oil stoves with one
of his wife's best tea towels, and they
escaped into the sunlight.
Hildebrandt lit his cigar and walked
lazily along, watchinga crows. Tapping
flight from one tree top to another.
This was a restful place after all, and
in the evening he should see Elizabeth.
"Who were your last guests, Town
send?' he inquired, merely by way of
conversation.
"Some Chicago people, the Van
Burens. A fine man, too, with the
making of good student in him. But
saddled with the care of million, poor
fellow"
Thus in all sincerity, the professor,
who was richly content on $50 a month
and chance to work at his favorite
pursuit.
OHildebrandt had an instant's humor-
Gus vision of millionaire relinquish-
ing his affairs to go about peering at
small bugs through magnifying glass.
''You will miss them, suppose?" he
persevered.
"We were very fond of them. There
was nephew, Roger Van Buren,.
think Elizabeth will miss him most,
perhaps said the professor, simply.
Hildebrandt stared straight ahead
in grim silence. He had feeling that
the whole visible universe had arisen
bodily and struck him in the face.
Here was an unmistakable warning,
| indeed, kindly meant and delicately
given, but rather late. That, then,
explained the magnificent opal he had
noticed at breakfast on the girls left
hand,-instinctlvely hating the shifty,
changeful thing at sight. The man
must have abominable taste to give a
girl like that an opal as hetrothal
ring. 1t should have been a clear and
steadfast stone, like diamond.
A cicada shrilled through the silence,
raspingly and irritatingly. It seemed
to Hildebrandt to be hooking at his
shattered dream of life among the
suburban enthusiasts, with wife who
should be peerless among them all.
"Not even a fighting chance even
a fighting chance" it insisted, pier
cingly and increasingly.
1t was on Monday that he had come.
On Tuesday, he reflected, he would go
home, called back by an important
message, and forget what a fool he had
been. This was obviously the only
sane course to pursue, though, oddly
enough, it seemed to be the one thing
the heroes Of fiction never did do.
On Tuesday, however, it happened
that the whole party was to go berry,
ing and have luncheon out of doors.
That was dreadful enough, and Hide
brandt's resolution failed him. On
Wednesday, of course, he would go.
On Wednesday it rained. That was
the day Hildebrandt discovered Eliza
beth's ability to play good whist-that
rare thing in women. Being but hui
man, his admiration for her was aug
mented hundred-fold, and he linger-
ed about camp all day Thursday, visit
fully watching the skies for another
storm. But the weather remained
hopelessly sunshiny and Elizabeth re-
manned up on the mountain top,
where she had gone, as usual, with her
books and sketching materials.
On Friday punishment fell upon
him for his lettering. 1t was desired
that somebody should carry letters to
the postoffice, and the professor not
seeming over-eager, Hildeb randi vol
unteered for the eight mile walk
Elizabeth's contribution had been
single, square, pale-blue envelope. No
sooner had he started with that letter
in his pocket than he became possessed
of an absurd longing to know whether
it was addressed to Van Buren,. He1e
was thing for an honorable man to
be thinking of indeed! 1t occurred to
him that the camp air must be affect
ing his morals, and he sat down upon
rock and tied the letters firmly to-
gether with string, face down, in
scorn of himself. Therefore it was all