St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1902-03-29

That was yesterday, and this morn
ing here were two invitations, her
first real-grown-up invitations, to the
concert, besides Aunt Bees tickets.
No wonder Hildegarde beamed with
pleasure. She was to hear Ap-Morgan
after all.
Then came, naturally enough, the
thought of old Mr.. Barlow, and she
beamed still more. Why should she
not give him one of Aunt Bees tick
cts, since she could not use them if
she accepted
But something brought thought
full look into her eyes. The craEbedy
man would not accept the tickets.
She knew it by intuition. There had
been kind of stern pride in that look
of his yesterday. She pondered few
moments. with Fuckers in her fore
head. Then she caught her breath
hard.
''I'll do it, she said to herself. 81
don't want to-much-but I'll do it.
/ will
Putting away her letters quickly
she left the house, stopping only for
the good-by kiss to the dear invalid
in the sitting room.
She had plenty of time to stop at the
little stationer's shop on her way to
school. The old man was busting his
counter. He looked, if anything,
trifle more forbidding than unual, but
Hildegarde piucked up her courage.
"Mr. Barlow" she began in her
most winning way, 81 have come to
to ask favor of you."
A favor of the crabbedy man! 1t
was not easy and she found nothing
| to reassure her in his cold regard. But
she went on:
my aunt, Mrs. Hunt, has sent me
two tickets to the Ap-Morgan con-
cert. She is going away and cannot
use them herself, and she wants me
to go and enjoy the concert, if l can
get any one to take me. [ could not
have afforded to buy the ticket for
myself, but now / can go, Tiff can
get some one to go with me. My
| mother is an invalid, you know, and
does not go out, and l thought you
might-that maybe you wouldn't
mind-I mean that perhaps you would
be kind enough to be my escort. You
said you liked Ap-Morgan, and-and
l don't know of any one else who
would really enjoy it and hasn't al
ready arranged to go. 1t would be
| great favor, very great favor in
deed, if"
| Hildegarde was out of breath, but
she saw that she had gained her end,
and the dimples came out to punctu-
ate her uncompleted sentence.
Little notes to Mr.. Overton and
| Archie Bale explained that she could
not accept their invitations, as she
was engaged to attend the concert
with a very old friend. The regrets"
were genuine, and yet the sacrifice
of her girlish inclination was not so
hard, after all, as she expected. The
old mans stately acceptance of her
| invitation had somehow touched and
pleased her.
There were good many wonder
ing looks as Hildegarde and her es-
cort entered the concert room on
Friday night. Hildegarde, more be-
witching than ever, Archie Bale
thought, in her dainty white ruff1es
and ribbons, disposed by her own
clever fingers, and with her most dis
tracing dimples, held her head high,
with proud little smile on her lips.
She was not ashamed Of her escort.
There was a dignity and grace in his
bearings, notwithstanding his old
fashioned dress, gentle courtliness
and Difference of manner to the pref
ty girl at his side that would not
have done discredit to any young gen
tleman present. Mr.. Howard Overton
suddenly seemed flashy and tawdry
in comparison. No, indeed. she was
not ashamed of the crabbedy man.
Mr.. Barlow had presented himself
at Hildegarde's home early and she
had taken him into the coy sitting
room, where her mother chatted with
him in her gentle, friendly way, while
the girl put the finishing touches to
her simple toilet. He had brought
with him cluster of pale roses from
the little back garden that no one
ever saw but the occupants of the
house. These he offered to Hide
garde with the same old-fashioned
courtesy with which he afterward
took care of her light wrap, handed
her her fan, and folded her pro-
gramme Its very stateliness was
delicately fattering.
And in the intervals of the music
they talked. Somehow Hildegarde
found herself telling the crabbedy
man all about her ambitions and as
pirations, the girlish longings that
could not be realized because of the
want of means to bring them to pass.
She told him how she used to dream
of some day playing the harp herself
and perhaps becoming great musi-
clan like Ap-Morgan. But harps were
so awfully expensive, and she might
well be content with the old piano
which Aunt Bee had given her when
she bought her new grand. She
could laugh frankly at the old dream
now, but tenderness in her voice
and her eyes revealed how much it
had been to her. And the crabbedy
man listened to it all with the most
friendly and sympathetic interest.
It seemed like a quaint, pleasant
dream when it was all over. the beau
tiful music. the walk home, the state
ly adieus of her courtly old escort.
She had enjoyed it, and so. she felt
sure, had Mr.. Barlow, and now it
would be stored away as pleasant
memory. Her friends laughingly