The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1902-11-20
His Lady Of Dreams
q, \. q. 3: n N N \: n X \. \. X n X n * e n 3: n E 3
By Susan Sayer Yarmouth.


yond the table, beside the door, tall
and slight, in white gown that
clung to her arms and shoulders and
rounded waist, and swept about her
feet in heavy folds. \ cross swung
from her neck by Il long silver chain,
and she wore a broad-brimmcd hat
with gauzy white veil, so her face
was in shadow. She leaned slightly
toward AShc as he clutched the arms
of his big chair and sat forward in
,amazement.
Il am the Princess Constantia
Gregorius," she said gently.
"Of-of Russia?" he asked stupidly,
trying to fan away the haze of to-
bacco smoke.
"There are other lands" she said
indifferently. "And not so far away"
Great Cacsar." he breathed, be-
wildered, and his pipe dropped from
his astonished fingers. With the
feeling that it was the only bond be-
tween him and nationality, he stopped
to pick it up, and as he rose he
struck his head sharply against the
corner of the library table. Dizzy
from the blow, he staggered to his
feet and looked toward the door.
She was gone, as mysteriously as she
had come. He rushed blndly around
the table and across the room, STUN
bling over easy chairs and footstools,
and sending Il revolving bookcase
spinning round. The hall was bril-
liant after the smoky library, and it
was also empty. No trailing gown
had turned up the edges of the rugs,
nor could he hear any hurrying steps
on the polished stairs. He blinked
at the sun pouring red and purple
through the painted window for n
moment, and then turned back and
sat down on the nearest chair. Good
heavens! what dream! Who was
she? What was her motive in ap.
pearing and announcing herself in
that royal way? And he hadn't seen
her face! Wei, if it was as pretty
as her figure-oh, confound his head!
and he was still feeling of it gingerly
too dazed to think of more than
one thing at a time, when he heard
his friends cheerful whistle in the
hall.
"Well, old chap" said Thurston
coming in.
''Phew! but that pipe of yours is q
fright II we don't air this room
before the mater gets into it, your
goose is cooked"
"Why, what will she do?" cried the
other, uncertainty.
"You'll never get another bid fol
Sunday said the first, throwing
open one of the windows. Gee,
didn't realize how rank Cissie is get
ting. Retire her, Billy, and get an
other. But say, what's the matter
old man? 1 left you composing ;
sonnet and going to sleep over it
What's wrong?'
Ashe looked down at his malignet
pipe and then up at his friend.
Say, do you suppose she thought
it was rank?" he asked.
"The mater?" said Thurston, puz
zled. "She hasn't been here already
has she? If so, we'd better go bacl
tonight Did she wake you up?'
"No, / just dreamed it," said tn,
owner Of the pipe, and began to fee
of his bump with a frown of pain
His friend looked at him for mo
ment curiously, and then aimed {
heavy leather cushion from the near
est Morris chair at him.
wake up, you IDIOT" he said
This is no sleeping car" The idio
parricd the cushion.
"Dick, has your sister a frienC
visiting her?" he inquired.
NO" said the other.
well, there was one here, an,
way" pursued Ashe.
"One what?" demanded Thurston.
zone princess" said the other. Hi
host surveyed him in silence for
moment.
"Ashc. you're crazy" he said a
last. Come out and take "a walk"
Mr. Wilmerding Ashc was making
for himself rather neat reputation
with readers Of current magazine
as writer Of clever little occasion
al verses. Among his friends at hi
club he was considered good fcl
low, and they chose to assume tina
somewhere he kept hidden away Tn
person who wrote his verses 70
him. His mothers friends approve
OF him because he paid his calls
and be was chiefly famous with tn
young ladies' Of his rather genera
acquaintance, as master of arts 0
Welsh rarcbitry and badinagc. Bu
no one WIS prepared for the almos
oriental beauty of his lnteLt verses
which appeared in one of the bes
Of tie monthly periodicals undc