Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1903-08-12

name is Hartrick-an old customer. I
have never seen you before"
| II have not been here long-on1y a
week" The curious melody in her
voice turned Hartrick's eyes upon her.
A red reflection from her silk waist lit
up her face into a blush, and she was
fair as growing flower.
WELL" said the artist, lingering
''The Praise of Folly" carelessly, "do
you like it,"
The girl laughed softly. ooh, yes"
said she; II like it. I like it very
much, indeed" Then she laughed
again, showing her white teeth.
''Now, what" inquired the artist of
| himself, lis she laughing at? Her
hair is extremely nice about the ears,
| and I must catch that chin line
| So he turned up a squeaking gas
| jet overhead and demanded the box
of paper covered plays, that he might
! look them over. The girl paused for
a moment in pretty nervousness, then
ran to the upboard-Hartrick knew
| proudly dragged forth the box. She
was pleased at her own readiness; her
eyes danced; it was plain that she
had visions of Joseph commencing
her for her attendance.
Erasmus can wait" thought Hart
rick, and then, aloud: watson, I can
see, has good help. You are anxious
to please him?"
81 would rather please him than any
one in the world" This half merrily,
with an escaping dimple.
Rather than please me? You have
a very soft hand, my DEAR"
ooh, sir!"
There was nothing but blank
amazement in her stare, and this
made Hartrick bite his lips the harder
man in half score of years; how
could he tell? He tumbled the plays
about the box, while the girl busted
herself with a busting cloth among
the cases. When she began to sing
lightly, the artist took heart, and soon
they were talking again-talking Of
the books and the work, and so on
Before he went, Hartrick doggedly
apologized.
'But your hand is soft, you know"
'Well, it is no fault or wish OF
NINE"
They were on excellent terms. And
no word was said about "The Praise
of Folly"
That night, Hartriclz smoked six
pipes in his solitary room, and medi-
| tated foolishly, as only lonely men
will
81 wonder what she was trying to
tell me-" he remarked to the fourth
pipe. "She had something to say, and
was afraid to say it. Perhaps that l
shouldn't stay SO long. I'll stay fiji
| teen minutes longer tomorrow. Her
wrist is like perfumed snow. How
many magazine articles can l do in
a year? Then, there's that advertising
work" He fell asleep smiling.
"You look like the spirit of books" >
he said to her the next afternoon,
lighting up their dusty, sober lines
with your lantern-and with your
CHEEKY eyes"
ct love the old books" she said. IL
wish to do all [ can for them. How
lonely they must be in this dark
place!"
"Some men are like books, living in
the dark until your eyes might"
He broke off abruptly. when does
Joseph return?"
"Today at s." She glanced bash
| fully at Hartrick. 81 hope that he
won't think that +"
"That you have let trade suffer in
his absence? He won't dare think
| that. I shall tell him how efficient
you have been. Shall buy lot OF
books to prove it?" He thought with
horror of how he had planned to
swind1e her out of the Erasmus.
Against his proposed purchasing
she protested earnestly coming close
to him. and making his blood jump
with a longing in his arms to clasp
her and hold her to him. There was
no telling what might have happened,
had not the bell of the door signaled
a visitor. But it was not visitor-lt
was Joseph Watson.
The girl gave little cry of con-
tentment, and put her arm around
Joseph's neck, kissing him, and he
kissed her. Hartrick stayed in the
shadow: niece or daughter-what mat
tered it to him? Watson was good
old fellow.
"Who's there, my dear?" cried Jo-
seph. peering. "Why, Mr.. Hartrick, CT
all the world! Has the little wife
treated you nicely, sir?"
The girl hid her face on Joseph's
sleeve.
81 beg your pardon" said Hartrick.
He began to count deliberately the
volumes in set of Smollett on the
che1f in front Of him One, two, three