Middletown transcript., 1903-08-08
COUSIN PAUL

But he laughed when he met
Phyllis's anxious eyes.
Why do you look so grave, lit
tie owl? And what do you think
of Hilda? he inquired, with a new
thrill of excitement in his usually
quiet voice. Sheis tall land stately
enough, isn't she?
I was thinking that you would
not want me, Paul, now that she
has come, Phyllis replied sadly,
the tears coming into her pretty
blue eyes.
Nonsense, child. I shall always
want you, Paul said. Surely you
don't imagine that my stately
cousin will favor us with much Of
her society, do you? She is far
removed from you and me, Phyllis
and belongs to another world of
which we know nothing, and in
which we have no place.
He laughed as he spoke, but
there was more bitterness than
mirth in the laugh. She looked
at him wistfully, and he, meeting
the anxious eyes, laughed again;
this time the laughter was hearty
and spontaneous.
Well, I want my dinner, he
declared gaily. Come along, my
child!
And so this is your last day of
freedom, Hilda?
Yes, and Hilda sighed and bent
her head over the esketching block
on her knee. Tomorrow visitors
arrive, and I shall not have a mo-
ment to call my own. Mother is
almost entirely an invalid, you
know, so all the burden of enter
tainment rests on my shoulders.
And I must say goodby to you
to-day, and to the pleasant times
we have had together?
Paul did not look at the girl as
he spoke. He was lying on the
grass at her feet, and his eyes
absently watched the passing
ships as he waited for her answer.
There was an uncertain note in
Hilda's voice when she spoke.
Yes, for a time, at all events,
since you and father are so fool
ish as still to cherish the old feud!
she said, with a forced laugh.
But it has been pleasant, as you
say, a charming holiday. But
holidays must come to an end,
Paul, and now ours is ended, and
to- morrow I begin work again.
There was a regretful note in
her voice; a shadow gathered in
her fair face, and she sighed
plaintively. Yes, Paul was right,
the pastfew weeks had been very
pleasant; indeed, they might have
been dangerously sweet to any |
one whose heart Was less under
control than Hilda's.
The cousins had lately met al
most as frequently as in the old
days. Sir John had been from
home, and Lady Sullivan never
lnterfered with her daughters
pursuits, or asked how and with
whom she spent the pleasant July
lays. She was a nervous selfish
woman, engrossed with herself
Ind her fancied ailments, and, as
ong as Hilda was amused, good
tempered and did not worry her,
she was quite content to allow her
20 pursue her way unquestioned.
A month had passed very pleas
unity with boating and rambles
across the downs. 1t had been
7ery pleasing fooling, Hilda told
herself, and it had come TO an
end. On the morrow a large
party of guests, including Sir
Hubert Brooke, a rich baronetl
Ind one of the best matches of the
season, would arrive at the Hall.
Paul laughed a little at her an
'wer.
Well, you have my best wishes
or your success, he said. When
you become Lady Brooke, will II
7ou send me cards and wedding
AXE, Hilda?
1t is not fashionable to send
Wedding cake and cards now,
Paul! [ will invite you to the
Wedding, if that event ever comes
If, she promised, with assumed
That will be too kind-and the !
rony in Paul's voice deepened. iii
will accept the invitation how
ver. Yes, l will come to your s
Wedding, but not as a guest. II G
will stand among the spectators s
nd watch you go up the aisle in ,
II your bridal
Well, you needn't look so dis &
1al over it! Hilda laughed, but I
he color deepened in her cheeks i
nd her heart beats strangely t