The silver messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1890-1912, 1902-04-22
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CINDERELLA

sHRH LINDSAY coLHNHn.

DIdT1.
DO you wish TO see my father?"
asked the occupant, with pretense at
courage denied by frightened eyes
"No;" his eyes rested on the fair
young face with its rich color that be-
longs only TO first, sweet youth.
If you do not want to see my father,
whom would you like to see?'' There
was tinge of haughtiness in the girls
voice.
"And if should tell you, my pretty
maid?"
She turned on the light; everything
was golden and bright and rich.
He wondered why frightened look
lurked in the gray depths of her eyes.
She was absurdly young, almost
child, but there was no reason why
they should not sit down and talk
amiably until their friends put in an
appearance.
UNLESS you state your business"
the girl spoke haughtily, 81 must ask
you to leave"
leave Jack HOLSTERS house." in
dignantly.
"oh, you are friend of theirs2
Father and have the house rented"
McMaster crossed the room to where
the girl stood, and said: my train is
delayed for hours. Jack and his wife
are Old friends. You will pardon my
goodnight"
"Wi.l you not forgive me and take
tea with us?" the girl asked, with
charming hospitality.
The man who hesitates, stays. Nc
Masters, who had passed unscathed
through a dozen seasons, felt tug at
his heart strings when the girl lifted
her gray eyes o his.
Father isn't coming to tea; has gone
ont of town. and won't be home until
midnight" the girl said, with dismay,
looking al note that had been given
her. HE promised to take me to the
dance to-night-the best dance of the
season"
Lets CO." McMasters leaned to-
ward her; there was an eager note in
his voice.
81 would love it." In the girls voice
lingering regret.
81 viii send your father the family
record. / will satisfy him IS 10 my re-
spectability. Comets but an hour
out of our livesl"
Have you seen a pumpkin lying
around?" she asked, demurely, "and
have the little mice turned to milk
white steeds?"
That dance! The lights, the flowers,
the music, the glitter of jewels, the
fash of bright eyes. the g.eam of white
shoulders. McMaster's arm encircled
the girlish form. They foated down
the .ong room. The touch of her white,
cool fingers; the perfume of her hairl
Was it music. was it madness-this
. sweet strenuous whirlwind of thought
that possessed him? She was but a
child he told himself. The music
throbbed in the hall. 1t made him
think of his old dreams; he seemed to
feel those dreams pressing with spec
trail softness against his side. How
red the lips behind the mask; how fair
the brow under the shadowy hair!
When the dance was done it seemed
as though they had been friends
through long and happy years. And
afterwards came the dash home over
the snow to the accompaniment of
musical, jingling bells.
In the library the lights burned low.
but the freight leaped and sparkled
behind the fire dogs. The girl slipped
from her furs and stood. one foot on
the fender, looking down into the fires
heart. How sweet she was! Her soft,
girlish laughter cut the stiffness of the
room. One, two, three-tbe clock told
off the hours up to ~.
"Cinderella"-it was part Of the en-
chantment-"I must CO." McMaster's
voice was full of regret.
The pretty smiling face took on
look of CONSERVATION. "The front
door is being opened" she whispered,
what will we dol Father will never
understand"
Rum" he said; 1 know the house"
She vanished like a wrath.
The library door led on to the
porch. McMaster passed through it,
taking his hat; his overcoat had not
been removed.
81 will return, Cinderella" The
words sounded like the registering
of vow.
1t was quite two months later when
McMaster again stood on Cinderella's
doorstep, for b. no other name did
he know her.
There was not sound of life about
the place. The owners were out west,
so McMaster learned.
The witchery of spring fell on the
world. June came, July, August, and
always the picture of this one girl
in the background of the mans con-
seriousness.
II am fooll" he declared to him
self over and over. 81 will forget
herl" But he never did.
And because words in Cinderella's
own soft voice repeated themselves
to him so often, he began his search
for her. Not that he acknowledged
it to himself. He tried to delude him
self with the thought that he needed
change; that he was restless, irrita-
Bile, with nerves unstrung.
Wherever tourists were to be found
he followed in his whimsical pursuit.
IN rNIo H.