The Scranton chronicle. (Scranton, Miss.) 1897-19??, 1901-02-09

could coldly express my regret that
| was unable to see her, and suggest
that it would perhaps be better that
our correspondence should cease.
That would settle the matter, and it
would be a satisfaction TO know that
it was actually settled. I guess it's
settled, anyway.
4 wonder how that trial balance
is coming out. Mosier is going to get
fooled on his guess They want to
get some ink that won't clog on my
pens the way the last did. l don't be-
lieye in the economy Of buying cheap
ink. There's going to be plenty for
us to do between this and the frost
with the ANIMALS and the holiday Ship
ments, and it won't let up with the
new year. Well, / shall be glad to
have plenty Of work to take my mind
off this business Work. That's what
there is before me now. Good, honest,
hard work and no fooling. Not that
| wouldn't have worked just as hard
for her. There was our home to work
for then. Now it will be just money
grubbing. Well, III grub to beat the
band"
He laughed harsh, sardonic and
dissyllabic laugh, the sound of which
reminded him of villain in black
cloak whom, in happier days he had
guyed from gallery seat. He felt
that he had misjudged that villains
art, but at the same time he ceased his
soliloquy and lit his pipe again.
1t was easier to stop talking than to
keep from thinking, and his thoughts
went wandering off to the little home
they two had planned There prob
ably never had been house built just
exactly like it, and there probably
never would have been, but it had
grown very familiar to him in the first
half-waking hours of morning-par-
ticularly the room where they would
sit together. Her face Castles in
Spainl Money grubbing now; a dead
ening in human feeling, a self-con-
tanned, self-sufficing existence that
would harden his heart and set his
face in lines that would scare chill
dren. He took savage satisfaction
in the contemplation Of his future
self, but caught himself softening at
the picture of this adamantine mil
lionaire, yielding to the appeal of the
love of his youth and raising her from
poverty to affiuence; SO he picked up
the newspaper again and tried to in
terest himself in the partition of
China.
The door bell below suddenly rang,
and Percival started to his feet. Could
it be the messenger? He half opened
his door and listened He heard his
landlady say: 81 think he's upstairs
in his room now. You can go up and
see; it's right at the head of the
stairs" and then he retreated TO his
chair, chokcd with emotion.
1t was the laundryman with his
weekly bill.
Would he have written that note,
after all? Suppose she could have ex-
planned. And would it not be better
to give her the opportunity to ex-
plain? OF course, she could. She
could make him look like fool in one
sentence, but he was not the man to
allow any girl to twist him around her
little finger. He would show her
that. A trivial cause, perhaps, as
some people might look at it, buf what
could there be trivial in their inter-
course. Looking back, he could re-
member other instances, slight in
themselves, but were they not as float
ing straws showing the ebbing tide Of
love?
But to return to the Chinese ques-
ton. Oh, hang the Chinese question:
Yet it should be matter of human
interest. Great nations we're playing
a great game there; armies were
gathering. How would it be to enlist.
Here was subject worthy of serious
consideration. What could life offer
him here but the prospect of dreary
shaving over account books? Was
that a career for man with blood in
his veins and strength in his sinews?
On the other hand, strenuous activ-
ity, the JOY Of conflict, the thrill of
danger-and then a glorious death.
She would hear Of it, and perhaps her
binding tears would fall fast upon
the printed page where his name
would appear in capital letters in the
list of the slain. They might perhaps
bring his mortal remains back in a
metal casket. They have done that
for the boys who fell in Cuba, and
while Percival thought at the time
it WIS a piece of idiotic sentimental