The Montgomery advertiser., 1901-11-15
, THE ADVERTISERS ], DAILY SHORT STORY

Tt would be such fun if we could ever-"
 Wouldn't it." said Vincent You haven't the least ida what I mean" Mrs. Vincent spoke severely. T wish you would not jump ino the con. versation so vehemently. WIS going to say"
 ''You were going to say" tfumphantiy that we could have such hrk if peo- pie would only let us alone. believe it's philanthropy with then. They think we are married and have come uf here alone and that we are being borei to death but won't confess it, so thy visit us family-who is 1t now? The Lord help us if the school friends have stsrted."
 'Yts a school friend, and dear one: but I don't want her now. don't want anybody but you. I thought" in plain tive voice, that we would be happy now that the last relative Is gone, didn't your
 Who Is it?'' MT. Vincent a,ked with a martyr-like ar.
 at the letter. "She says she Is going to be naar here an wants to ste me. f 1t is quite convenient. It isn't philanthropy with our friends" this in fine scorn, it s anything more beautiful tran that?" With one comprehensive sweep she look in the summer landscape that lay besore them Beautiful valleys glittering with dew. softly swelling hills. cool shadowed woods. and on every side mountains clothed to their crest with yeraure.
 Dearest" Vincent began. T-oh, hang 1t all! I've had a letter. toe When wrote I told him what fun we were hav- ing, and how cool it was, and that knew he would come. You may trust me not to give another invitation-its climate
 Who is it?' It was Mrs. vincent's turn to affect martyr-like air.
 ssEIanrx oh
 - MT. Vincent not having known women very intimately before his marriage and having been married only a few months. found his wifes unexpectedness he. great est charm.
 Now she sprang up gaily, rushed at him, flung her arms about him and de- clared he was the sweetest thing in the world
 smiled indulgently and awaited further developments.
 ''Oh," she said, 'Im so excited! Doro- thea Trelawny and Henry Cavanagh were born for each other! All Dorotheas wo- men friends want her to marry. and know three of them." she ran them oil on her fingers, glibly. who have invited them for the express purpose of getting them engaged" She laughed gleeiully- never even met. There was always soma away. Fate was against them; and she has relented." She ran her slim fingers through Vincents hair, delightedly. This is a coincidence-it isn't Fate, it's Provi dence! Won't those other women envy me-won't they hate me! You'll get MT. Cavanagh to rent a house up here next summer, won't you? It will be lovely for all of us to be together.
 My dear!" Vincent was not able tC keep up with his wifes flying thought.
 What if they should not fancy each other?" He put the question hesitatingly. He was unwilling to dampen her ardor.
 They were born for each other! en- thusiastically They are waiting. Neith- CT of them will ever marry, they haven you see until they wed each other. am going to write to Oorothea this moment, she sprang to her feet. I'm going to write to some others, too. Lots off them Ca gay houseparty full We will have a week of fun" She danced down thse pi- azza Go write to MT. Cavanagh." she called back and disappeared in the door, way. 1,,- cent, I'm so excited!
 It was a week lated and they were waiting in the parlor for Cavanagh, who had been the last member Of the house party to arrive, waiting also for dinner There was murmur of talk-soft laugh terAthe deeper tones of men.
 II am so disappointed"' It was plain tive little whisper in Vincents ever sym- pathetic ear a few moments later
 ''But, my dear, what would you have had them do?'
 T would have had her just fittter an eyelash or color, or get embarrassed- anything-to show she knew her hero had come" ,,,-.
 She's of the Vere-de-Vere type" Vim cent murmured soothingly. You. know the proud, cold ones don't show, what s they feel But she is sumner! Iht handsonlest woman in the room. my
 ."The handsomest?" responsibility.
 "Except yourself" promp9yr Mrs. Vincent sent a look flashing doWn Saturdays story. SAVING A REPUTA