The Montgomery advertiser., 1905-11-30
Bullock Shoe co.
Our Daily $bcrt Story

allow me" John Gray looked straight into the troubled eyes and held out his hand. Sylvia held up the wishbone. their fingers touched, the glance deep ened, a slight shtver ran through the girls being and higher color into the face of John.
 T think will be excused" came the low. level tones of Mabel. You will
 not miss me from your intellectual | amusement"
 She swept away and John seated himself again by the side of sylvia.
 But she. too. sprang up. and. hinging the bone into the fireplace, ran out of l doors and fled like a wind-biown leaf away through the trees.
 Country folks are less artificial than l their town bred cousins. and this scene. | which would have created no end of secret gossip had 1t happened at din- | ner with the smart set. was passed over with an outspoken criticism of Syivia's "Highty temper" byyher grandmother and 6 halting apology from her moth l CT that the child had headache. But l the dinner went cold after that. The sun. going down like ball Of molten gold. threw long level shafts i of light against the windows of the | old farmhouse. And from one of those windows looking on the woods Mabel saw John Gray and Sylvia Marston walking slowly. They were coming towards the house and his face was bent toward hers, which looked up
 into his wistfully. Something in tne attitude of the strolling couple caused a hard look to come Into the eyes or Mabel. Her fingers beat quick tat ! too on the window pane. her arched l eyebrows gathered into the suggestion of a frown and her lips curled scorn- | fully. Then she tossed her head with a naughty gesture and went slowly down the stairs. She sat down at little old fashioned plano in Ethe big | living room and began running her hands absently over the keys. stray | ing through the tangle of many tunes. Then as from some subconscious mem ory she began to sing an improvised lyric.
 | | wish, I wish, know not what. | Forget me, or forget me not,
 | What is my thought? What my de- sire?
 What more of fate do I require, | What more of bitter or of sweet.
 TO make the song of life completeF l This unknown gift for which sigh-- | know not why. know not why. Her voice. a rich cantralto, filled the old house with waves of melody. and at the closing words that came almost as the sob of a breaking heart, sne heard a light step behind her and voice half whispering her name. She | | ing to spring up, then composing her l self with an effort she struck the keys kaSain with a fuller chord and sat si' | lent.
 l Mabel! What is the matter? What is wrong? have been searching TOT you since dinner" . | you know what you are saying is not true. John She turned quickly | looking him in the eyes with ieyei gaze. You have been in the woods. l saw you returning just now. Don't sneak You cannot tell me anything | I do not know. Men have their argu- | ments, women their munitions. The l two can never be brought to an under | standing. It is this that causes so much unhappiness in the world. You | reason: we feel. You argue: we af- | firm or deny. You are right from \ your standpoint; we are right from ours. And this something within tells me that you and should never be happy as man and wife. 1t was well | found 1t out before 1t Is too late. Good night and goodbye.
 | She stood up and held our her hand He hesitated, his lips parted as IT 10 | speak, but no words came. He bowed. ! touched her fingers with courtly sa-
 lute and allowed her to pass. Seven times Thanksgiving day had been celebrated at the old farmhouse | since Mabel Cartwright had impro- | vised that wistful little song which had so fateful an ending, and the | winds of November were once more whirling dead leaves down 's.7g aisies | of oaks before the old farm.~juse, ana | once more families were gathering in fine big rooms for the annual reunion. Grandpa's seat by the wide mouthed | Areplace was vacant now, and grand | ma. had to be told many times over ! the names of her grandchildren ana | Irreat-srandchildren as they came 10 law their little heads tn her lap and look up inquiringly Into her pale face ! with its thinning crown or snow white hair. .,, s.-o,, -,. .
 And this is little Willie Gray?" she
 said. stroking the soft golden curls or | a slender boy of seven fou are hke your mother only her eyes were brown and yours are blue. Poor dear! poor dear. We miss her most. at sucn A time. You were only little oaoy l when she went away. You Will never know what cheerful little sparrow
 she was"
 Grandma?
 "No. my child, not like your Aunt
 Mabel: not nearly so tall' nor so qule'
 and dignihed. But she was very
 sweet and lovely" .... .4.
 T like my Aunt Mabel. very muen
 Grandma; and Papa told me last nign'
 trat rnnst love ner always. because