Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1901-09-12

dozen china fiowers-pots containing
artificial roses and camellias from the
window-seat. with the simple inquiry:
May l. aunt p
'sOh, thank ySa so much, aunt" said
the girl, when this was done. Il viii
take the very best care of your nice
room"
inwardly she shuddered at the
furnishing OF this room, especially at
the carpet, which was bright blue
with white roses strewed over It.
SIZE was also very much disturbed by
the horrible portraits of the aunt and
late husband. But this was only for
little while; some day she would
neither have to look at the blue carpet
or those wretched portraits. She
took out water-color picture of
her fathers house. behind which was
a rude old stone tower and some tall
lindens, and while she was getting her
color-tubes and brushes out of her
paint-box she told her aunt all manner
Of things about her home. Then she
began to finish her sketch.
1T looks so washy."t said Aunt
Polly, "and the paper is so coarse.
Must you have it like that?"
Eyes" replied her niece, shortly;
and Aunt Polly nodded and sat down
with a sigh in the opposite window,
took out her knitting-work, and looked
at the houses across the way. She
comforted herself with thinking that
it was really very interesting to have
| a niece who painted.
But Hilda could not paint forever,
and it seemed as if the hours would
never pass. How long day could
below horribly long, She did not
| sleep at night, she was always think
ing of the promised visit. 81 shall
come in three days" he had said.
The third day came at last. Hilda
sat down to her work at an early
| hour, but her colors dried on her
| palette, for she was continually gaz-
ing out into the street. When it was
time to expect a visit that morning, she
| fell into her old state of feverish IN
! rest; she could not eat a morsel, and
walked up and down Aunt Polly's best
| room like a chained lioness. If he
should not keep his promise, what
would become of her? She did not
remember now that she had come
! here to make her way alone; she felt
as if her bark would suffer shipwreck
| if he stayed away.
And he did not come. 1t grew
dark; Hilda could no longer dis
tinguish anything in the street. She
went out to the top of the staircase
and listened for the door-bell Once
she thought it must be that some one
was coming-her heart beat rapidly
and her limbs shook, but it was only
the post-man who brought her letter
from home. She put it in her pocket
| and waited He did not come.
BY evening she was shivering al
over, and then she was burning hot
Aunt Polly was that the girl coult
scarcely sit up; there we're darl
shadows under her eyes and her facs
seemed quite changed.
For Heavens sake, go to bed
child. l hope you won't be sick!"
And she took the girl herself int
her little room.
eco to sleep" she said; you wan
some fresh air. Why haven't yo,
been out all this time? 1t can't BE-
| good for you to be painting all the
time"
Eyes, am tired" gasped the girl
And when the little old lady had gone
| hn haY. IN, III
and groaned like one wounded unto
death. The man had simply been
making sport of her, or he had for
gotten her long ago, while she had
been thinking of nothing but him
She clinched her fists in anger and
wondered how she could revenge her.
self if she should ever meet him
! again. At this moment she could
very well comprehend that there were
women who were capable of stabbine
man who had been unfaithful to
them. She did not sleep that night
and the next morning she was hardly
strong enough to get up, but the hope
that he might still come that day gave
her courage.
! She READ her letter from home 20
| day. 1t was from her mother. The
lines We're overlooking with motherly
| tenderness and anxiety, but there was
a little touch Of wounded feeling, too
when ] found your parting note
on the kitchen table, Hilda, / could
not keep back my tears" she wrote
Il thought if you had only cared for
your mother the least little bit you
would not have gone away without
saying good-by May God grant that
| al your golden dreams may come
true, dear child, and may you be
spared all disappointments!
| Tears rushed to Hilda's eyes, but
she brushed them angrily away. II
her mother could only know what a
| disappointment her dear child" he'd
| already encountered, But she must
never know that, neither she nor any
one else in the world And Hilda sal
down again to her painting and look
ed cut into the street. Her. aunt in
sisted upon her going out, but she re
| fused obstinately. She was waiting
And when the twilight came on again
4 she suddenly started up from her
chair, and then sank helplessly back
| g. -, 1. eli