Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1902-01-16

rel skins with heads of fierce Indians
burned upon them.
"Please, sir, here's poppies! They'll
open in the morning"
The figure was little and the voice
full of pleading. Jack bought what
were left in the basket.
81 wonder he thought, with a sud-
den inspiration, "if Mrs. Barton has
had fresh ones to-day"
He held them up critically. The
shiny gold petals were locked tightly
together. They'll open in the morn
ing, though" the piping little voice
had said. 81 suppose Sis would want
me to go half way-and more. / be-
lieve I'll just call with them"
A half hour later Mrs. Barton,
iounging listlessly in the room her
aunt had assigned her, was handed
the card of Mr.. John Denton. Her
face showed surprise and dismay.
Then instantly her lips curved in a
quick smile.
swell, it's good of him-at last!"
she said under her breath. "Tell him
I'll be down soon." She tilted her mir
ror and gave the picture it presented
a quick, critical glance, such as an
artist gives before he puts the finish
ing touches in. She loosened her dark
hair a little and tied a knot of laven-
der in it, frowning at the result. She
drew out the bureau drawers, re-
vealing a tangle of lace and color.
white would be the smooth cheek,
how flashing black the eyes, with
that! She hesitated; then she fas-
tened it defiantly in the loose soft
coils of hair. She took some roses
like it in shade and put them in her
belt, against the black dress. She
stood back to get the result. She
smiled and tossed her small head
slightly, as she turned it to watch the
sweep of silk behind her.
give years." she said, prettily
triumphant. swell, Mr.. Jack, they
haven't hurt mel"
Five years before Sarah Gordon
had quarreled with Jack Denton, who
people had thought she would marry.
His sister had been involved in it. It
was a foolish little affair, but since
that time there had been no word
between them. Not that any one of
them wholly wished it so, but no one
was willing to take the first step.
Thus Sarah Gordon Barton, one year
a widow, was not only glad on gen.
eral principles to have one of her long
evenings varied, but a bit relieved at
the prospect of commonplace peace
again.
She rustled into the room where he
waited, quite g~raciously; with no
least recognition of a delicacy in their
position, gave him her small hand,
; and then seated herself where the
fire-light would play merrily about
= her while she chatted easily concern.
ing the piquant things she found in
the most humdrum of days. He, fol-
his part, took her as she gave herself
and gave back in like measure, pleas
antly conscious meanwhile from his
place in the shadow of all the Elk.
quisite lines in the picture she made
: for him. 1t was not until he rose TIC
go away that the telephone message
vas mentioned.
II thank you for the dinner invita-.
tion," he said. Fortunately Sunday
> is free. You said at two, didn't YOU
, The telephone was unusually misty
, tonight. And I didn't make out who
you said is coming also"
, Mrs. Barton turned her head, hold.
ing the fire-screen she had toyec
: with where it Swallowed her face.
"Pardon me, Jack" she said a mo
ment later, as if startled. "What were
! you saying? Dinner Sunday? Why
, of urs at two. And nobody's com
!, ing but you. That's what I said, aun-
and uncle and you and I, just as il
= used to be. Must you go so soon?"
This as she walked across the room
, beside him. Then she held out hel
I hand again, tipping back her head Sc
that he looked straight in her face
, and down into the depths of hel
great dark eyes, and she said, with 6
little laugh: ''This is lots better
than the other way, isn't it? I only
wish your sister were here, too
!. And while he kept the hand he re
+ piled:
. at is better, Sarah; why didn't WE
do it before?"
Sarah Barton came back to the fire
, and sat there staring in it with he1
face between her hands.
"What in the world does it mean?'
, she asked. 81 thought people said he
-. is half in love with that girl-what
is her name? Ruth something or 9th
Grand the telephone"
, She figured at the problem patient
! ly for nearly a minute. Then sht
gathered her silken skirts about hel
and went gaily upstairs. 81 never
! did believe that Providence wanted
anybody to be as bored as I have
: been. And this proves it. Whoever
! has lost and whatever is lost I'm de
cidedly the gamer. Now, to tel
auntie that she's been getting up {
dinner party for next Sunday at two
o'clock"
;. iii.
!, RUTH.
: Mr.. Foster, tall, thin, keen-eyed
s rose from the big leather chair il
8 which he had been comfortably smok
J, ing, and, throwing down his cigal
stub grasped the arm of the husband
heartily, saying:
swell old man, your dinner was tip
: top and the cigars even better. Blu
E times up now"
{ The husband drew aside the cur
tains which separated his den from