Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1905-02-03

moving car. She let her small silk
gloved hand rest in his for the mer-
est moment and then showed him
gently in the direction of the door.
"Thank you so much for all your
Kindness" she said. He reluctantly
backed out of the car, only to appear
at her window and renew his request
for letters-plenty of them-during
the dreaded two weeks, when the city
would be one of the desert spots of
the earth.
The young woman, whose name was
Ethel Gascoigne, did write to him the
very next day. 1t happened to be
rainy and she discovered a fountain
pen hidden in her box of candy. She
rather enjoyed using the pen. But
the following day the sun rose clear,
the weather was fine and she began a
series of discoveries regarding the
possibilities of Rockdale that kept
her busy thereafter. She found that
the hamlet had attractions of its own.
Despite the fact that it was seven
miles off the railroad and there was
not summer hotel in the county,
there was at least one other summer
visitor in the neghborhood. He, too,
was young and sufficiently attractive.
A large white umbrella. easel, palette
and the life were the badges of his
calling. He happened to be painting
the beauties of the noisy little creek
that crossed the Foster farm.
Miss Gascoigne's face and form
thereafter went into divers sketches
of country scenery. In consequence
there was really no time for more let
tiers to the unhappy young man in
town. BY reason of which young
Walbank grew nervous and fretful.
After the tenth day of this pleasant
idling Ethel was awakened late in the
night by tremendous pounding on
the great oaken door Of the house.
She slipped into her dressing gown
and ran to the head of the stairs to
listen. Mr. Foster arrayed in an eX-
trolely unconventional costume, was
opclinE the door.
Mother" he called. in shaky
voice. its telegram. Bob Ames
fetched it over and be wants a dollar
for the job. Bring one out of the wal
let in my drawer. Yon don't s'pose
anything's the matter with Belle or
the baby, do you, mother?'
Nov, father, don't you be scared"
said Mrs. Foster. putting in a hasty
appearance. Just wait till l get my
glasses and I'll read it to you. You'd
better ask Bob to wait. Maybe there'll
be something for him to do
"Why, it amt for you, Mrs. Foster"
called Bob. It's for Miss Ethel Gas
coigne. Amt she staying with YOU"
At this Ethel ran downstairs and
Joined the excited little group in the
hall.
"Be calm, DEAR" said Mrs. Foster.
"Probably it amt anything terrible at
all though maybe your mothers got
one of them heart attacks she had
once before. Shall | read it to you?"
81 can read it if you will hold the
candle little nearer
Ethel tore open the soiled yellow
envelope that had been carried seven
miles over dark and rough country
roads.
81 hope it amt your father said
Mr.. Foster anXiously. as she crumpled
the bit of paper in her hand.
mo, it's not from father. lists
from a friend who wanted-some in
formation. | am so sorry that you
were all disturbed. Good night again."
she said in confusion. as she fed to
her room.
She lighted her lamp and, smooth
ing out the telegram, read it once
more:
whats wrong? Why don't you
write?-FRANK WALBANK."
Poor boy!" she murmured, blow
ing out the light and creeping into
bed. She dreamed then that the art
list was painting her portrait in
white satin gown. over whose folds
was falling a filmy lace veil.