The Brandon news. (Brandon, Miss.) 1892-1961, 1904-06-09

u VASOlOun OuS duu KISS. JUST MAKE
yourself ct home-now how foolish
Ernest Is seldom home-didn't you
know? Dear me, supposed every
body knew that. 1t is drink" Mrs.
Everdel laughed oddly, almost with
sadness. He goes his way and mine,
because-because-oh, do not pity me,
Phil. | should never have married.
My dear, go slow-go slow, when you
think OF such thing-yes, is it not a
beautiful pieces Of tapestry brought
from Europe-genuine, every thread.
Now do hurry and fix yourself and
come down to the drawing room"
Again did Phyllis ponder, that Sec
ond time more deeply.
On Wednesday, en- route to the the
atre, she met Maria Tessley in the troll
ley car. Maria beamed upon her de-
lightedly and took the seat beside her.
For lands sakes, Phyllis Dunston!
Wherever did you drop from?' asked
Mrs. Tessley, meanwhile pushing four
scrambling children into various va.
cant seats and then settling down be-
side her friend. 1T seems ages since
I've seen you. What jolly times we did
have and-yes, four. It's hard scratch
ing keeping up appearances, too-just
dreadful-not cent for anything but
butchers and bakers and grocers and
cobblers and tailOrs-matinee?
haven't been. to one in years-nowhere
at all--tied down the whole time-do
you think them pretty?-they're real
smart in school--head of their classes
my poor corn, Julie? Gracious!
Can't you come to see me-good-b by
Rosie-Helen-come along Tommy
it's our corner, Jack-good-b by
Phyllis settled into reverie that
lasted until the theatre was reached.
Next day was Thursday. She decid-
ed it would be wrong to omit. seeing
Alice, and so hunted up that friend.
Alice herself admittedyher.
my dear, dear girl" exclaimed Mrs.
Linson in keenest delight. ''Is this
really yourself-and not married YETI"
She made place for Phyllis at one
end of the couch. ''Its SO good of you
to hunt me up. Excuse my appear
ance, won't you? 1t is hard to do ones
own work and be dressed up much.
Paul comes home about 7-late din
ner, you ask? Yes, it is that every day,
but he likes dinner best. / often Won
der where the day goes. What do |
keep myself at?-not so very much
compared with his duties. It's usually
breakfast at 630-then the dishes to
wash, children to dress and feed-Nat
goes to school now, tOO-then several
rooms to brush up anu put in order
and of course the beds to make and
rooms to tidy-some little pieces OF
washing-not much, you know-or else
scrap of ironing-handkerch tow
els, odds and ends left over, you know
oh! and the orders attended to for
meals-there are SO many rings at the
door-baking? Yes, just little-Paul
likes homemade things better than
bakers articles-and lunch to fix-the
children must be on time, you know
and then it is afternoon. | generally
try to get at my sewing by 3 o'clock
then It is dinner hour before | can
wink. But Paul enjoys it so. Even
ing? / seldom have one exclusively
for reading-the children are put to
bed and-yes, it is the same dress How
clever your memory is. I've had lots of
gay times in this blue serge. A new
one would make me feel rather strange,
I fear. Somehow, all spare cash goes
into small shoes and stockings. Style
and clothes seldom bother me nova
days-I've so much else to think about
yes, it's a very good picture of Paul,
is it not?''
Phyllis pondered and pondered and
pondered as she went back to her cOu-
sins home An hour later she took
the train back to Oldtown. Another
hour and she had hunted up Jimmy
Wells.
'sJimmy,' said Miss Dunston, with
the most beautiful nonchalance and
beaming smile, II did not forget you.
Here is the finest jack-knife made in
the city. It is the best steel. Be care
full not to cut yourself. Oh, and jim
my, and you will not tell any one that
| am at home, will you? That is
good boy. Friday. was the day, but
well, came today. 1t is one day
earlier than Friday, isn't it," and jim
my agreed that 1t was. Joy was in his
heart He clasped his treasure tightly
and scampered off. Then he did ex-
actly the very thing Miss Dunston
knew he would do-show the knife to
his friend and neighbor, Ben Marten.
That night the doorbell rang in the
Dunston homestead. Bridget ushered
in the tall young caller and left him
in the parlor. Ben's heart was trou-
bled but determination his. He had
come for his answer; she must see him,
even though he broke the contract by
"a hours.
The sound of swishing skirts on the
stairs-light footsteps-then Phyllis
burst in, veritable whirlwind-right
into the arms that instinctively opened
to receive her.
stRnni Ranio she hrnathpd iOyOuSly