Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1905-01-23
CHAPTER


of snow throw the whole system into
confusion and our station is the worst
Of the lot. If they see an extra port
manteau coming up the lane, they are
sent into fits of nervous incapability.
Accidents! I wonder they don't have
an accident every hour-I shouldn't be
at all surprised-oh, no, don't mean
that, papa! but why don't she come?
Do you think the horses have fallen
down, Or is it only because that horrid
train is later even than usual?"
And Carrie Dalton turns from the
open window at which she had been
standing, with flushed, impatient face,
and Indignantly questioning eyes.
1t is the face of child-a girl,
rather, in her sixteenth year; just two
years older, by the bye, than the I'M
fortunate Miss Juliet Capulet, OF
Verona, when she married Signor
Romeo Montague of the same town
awkward, angelic sixteen.
The individual addressed as papa Is
an elderly man, short in stature,
stumpy of figure, red of face, and-as
commonplace as an English tradesman
possibly could be.
"Eh-what?" he says, opening his
eyes, drawing the red silk bandana
from his bald head, and turning un-
easily in the capacious armchair, In
which he has been having a comfort
able but by no means silent nap.
what did you say, Carrie? I was
-ahem-just dropping off to sleep, I
think"
Papa" is the quiet and scornful re-
tort, you have been snoring for the
last hour! | was saying that this
beastly-I mean horrid train is later
than ever. 1t is half past eight, and
May was to have been her at five min
utes to. 1t is shameful simply
shameful!"
Mr. Dalton arises slowly, blows a
loud and prolonged blast in the ban
dana, takes out watch of the most
pronounced fryingpan type, and slow
ly compares it with the enormous gilt
monstrosity which stands like the
model OF gaudy mausoleum on the
elaborate carved mantelpiece.
'Humph this clocks five minutes
slow I wish James or Joseph, or one
of them, would keep it right. Some
body will lose their train some day.
May late, is she. All, yes"-another
blast in the bandana-"is that window
open, Carrie? There's a fearful
draught somewhere caught an
other cold. Carrie, shut the door, my
DEAR
But he appeals to unheeding ears.
The girl has heard the sound of an ap-
preaching carriage, and with fiery
golden hair streaming like a meteor be-
hind her, she is flying down the steps
and around to the front drive.
Mr.. Daton goes and shuts the win
dow, takes up the Times, chances at
the market lists, lays the paper down
again, and stands before the porcelain
crate, with his hands behind his back,
and that expression on his face with
which he awaits an interview in the
private room behind his warehouses
in Criticized Friars.
Meanwhile, Carrie bounds along the
winding path, and gains the front
steps, just as a carriage shining daz-
zlingly in all the glory of varnish,
polished brass, new hammer-cloths,
and brilliant liveries, turns the corner
and dashes up to the front.
With scientific exactness the wigged
coachman pulls up the restless bays,
the long-coated footman drops down
and opens the door, and Carrie darts
forward with crimson face and dane
ing eyes.
ooh, May, is it you at last?" she ex-
claims, painting.
Eyes, dear, what's left of me-" says
light, musical voice from amid the
silk Innings, and the next moment the
late arrival steps out and takes the ex-
pectant girl to her bosom.
ooh, May, I'm so glad, so glad you've
come; it seems such a long-long
while; and how late you are! And
was there an accident. and how did
you like the carriage, and-oh, May,
how beautiful you've grown!"
OuC DI0dhS OIL SuuuSuly1 ACdAAuS
back to stare with almost awed admir-
alton at the face above, just above
her.
May Dalton, for she is Samuel Dali
toms eldest daughter, laughs, and
stoops to kiss the fair, flushed face.
"And how long you've grown, dear!
Do you wear stills in this part of the
country? Let me look at your feet.
Oh, nearly a long dress. Good graci-
Gus! and I have been calling up the
vision of a little girl in pinafore and
a pigtail waiting to see me. Carrie, it
strikes me it's wicked to grow so
fast"
"But-but I'm almost sure you have
grown!" responds Carrie, clinging,
hanging on to her arm, as they enter
the hall. 'T'm-I'm sure you have!
And, oh! May, what do you think Of it
all?"
May Dalton looks around curiously,