Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1902-10-22

look positively new. She made ME
the loveliest little wrap of meehlin
and chiffon. She's . perfect treas
ure." .>
A slight culver shook the sensitive
lips of the girl Mignon was enter
tanning with her talk of her need.
and her brother Kenneth's ploddino
ways, as she rocked lightly in a bio
wicker chair on the wide front porch.
where climbing Marie Henriettes
threw faint shadows and breathed
their sigh of content that night was
falling and the late summer drawinp
to a close.
Her face was pale and very love-
ly, and shadows lurked always in
the depth of Blanche's dark eyes,
shadows of longing and patient wait
ing, which intensified as the years
went by.
"And this year," she asked, school
ing herself to a calm Indifference.
''This year? No; indeed. Ken says
he cant afford the railroad trip.
Mamma wrote and told him we want
ed to add a fernery to the drawing
rooms this winter, and then it takes
such 4 lot of money to dress DECEIT
ly-it's awful, the prices one has to
pay for gowns-so Ken very sensibly
sent mamma check and went right
out to the Pacific coast. Ken loves
work."
Mignon's pretty mouth stretched
slightly in suppressed yawn, and as
she rocked the wind blew her flimsy
gown, whose elaborate simplicity be-
token the touch of skilled, if expen-
sive, professional, showing dainty
white kid shoes and white, open
worked, lace-inserted stockings, for
MigLon was unsurpassably chic in her
gowning.
''The fall is delightful, but it means a
lot of hard work. Mamma and have
been shopping for two weeks and
spending hours at Celeste's, and now
we find the drawing room furniture has
to be gone over before give my early
winter reception. Then, too, the opera
begins so early-too early. You must
come with us to the opening, cherie. l
wrote Ken that if I didn't have hand
some new gown for that night posi-
lively would not go.''
The shadows deepened in the soft
brown eyes, and an added melancholy
swept over the clear cut profile turned
to catch the evening breeze and the
pale light of the rising moon.
GLOW fond he was of music. Does he
still sing? His voice was so beautiful"
she said, stretching up to break half
blown rose from it's stem.
''Sing? How on earth can Ken sing
when he has to potter aroundthat hor-
rid machinery morning, noon and
night? He looks awfully old. His hair
is turning gray. So ridiculous! Ken's
just a little over 80. You ought to see
his working suit. Overalls and a cap.
Fancy! He sent us his photo taken
while he was in the refinery. But we
tore it up. Mamma was furious. Did l
show you the last one he had taken in
Cuba? It's dreadful, because he had
just been sick with fever, but that
didn't prevent his working. He says
he can't afford to be sick, and believe
that's the best way to get we'll any
how. Just go ahead and not mind the
Sickness"
'You mean to say your brother was
i'll and kept at his work." Blanche
asked, flame of color sweeping over
her face, her eyes blazing with grief
and Indignation.
"Why, you ought to know Ken we'll
enough to know he wouldn't stop work
for silly attack of fever, particular.
ly when he knows how much mamma
and need. Why, year before last he
had rheumatism; he caught cold out in
Washington state. Well, he took posi-
ton offered him while he could hardly
walk; and he was right, because
Charlie Duncan wanted it, and would
have gotten it if Ken hadn't gotten
there in time. I'll get you his photo"
With lazy grimace Mignon swept into
the library, and returning put Ken
neth's picture in Blanche's hand, too
absorbed in the approach of hand
some auto to notice the look on her
friends face.
'We've come for you, Miss Mignon.
We are going out to the lake." called
out the driver, as the vehicle stopped
before the front gate and lawn Of the
beautiful old house.
'Get wrap and come on Mignon.
It's such delightful evening. Wen
take supper out there. I'm ch*peron.
Well be back by H."
Kissing her carelessly, with gay
words of excuse, Mignon hurried in
doors for the automobile coat of honi-
ton and chiffon, so skillfully made by
the fingers of Felicie. her French maid,
without noticing that Blanche still
held the photograph of Kenneth as she
went down the steps into the garden,
all aglow with late summer flowers,
and passed out into the broad avenue,
where electric lights were shining like
stars.
The machinery in the Pacific coast re-
finery rumbled on in its even, monot-
onous way, and hour followed hour,
while Kenneth went from the great
pans to the other parts of the house,
watchful and painstaking, until dawn
broke in the east, the sun rose, and a
shrill whistle called six o'clock and a
change of watch.
A half hour later Kenneth left the
refinery, going toward the building
where he, with the other employees
of the Pacific Coast refinery. took