The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1905-11-14


yellow as corn silk Her eyes were d.
rect in their glance, like those of her
own school children, and far more dis
concerning.
Carlton Cross, another guest at the
house, failed to interest Tom very no.
ticeably, although Miss Latch appeared
to like him. Cross was spending few
weeks in town settling up an estate for
which he was counsel. He devoted
his evenings to pretty obvious effort
to settle the estate of matrimony so far
as Miss Latch and he were concerned
Every evening after supper the two
sat on the broad porch while sun
set glorified the valley below them and
twilight crept out of the deepest wood,
where it had been lurking and hiding
from the sun all day.
Tom Redding worked in one of the
drug stores of the village. That meant
that his evenings went into the drug
gist's profits till such time as he could
command a store of his own and hire
some other poor soul to work for him.
That was the end toward which Tom
was slowly advancing, but for the pres
ent he was forced to pass out of the
door after supper, walk resolutely
across the porch to where the more IA
vored man and the girl they both want
ed sat, and with brave spontaneous
cheerfulness bid them good evening.
On two or three occasions Cross had
spared him this pain by taking the girl
off for a drive. That was worse yet.
1t is true, Tom had his Sundays, but
part of these he always spent with his
mother He felt that Cross was forg-
ing ahead of him in the race. The thing
that discouraged Tom most was this.
As he walked downtown he thought of
the beauty Of the long evening that was
just beginning Having thrilled, him
self, under the spell of twilight, he
feared its power upon Thisbe Latch.
IF that clever chap" thought Tom,
half knows his business and says the
right thing and keeps still at the right
time, I'm afraid there's no chance for
me-" But it was not his way to be
melancholy for long. He vowed If the
other man did get her he would at
least make little place for himself in
her memory.
He thought of her through the day,
and every night he passed her on his
way downtown he had some word
commonplace it might be - that was
charged with the days repressed affec-
ton. In the general chat of the table,
in the Sunday visits and in many IN
considered greetings Miss Latch was
coming to know Tom far better than
he realized.
to go to his work Thisbe asked him
lightly:
What would happen to your old
drug store If you should sit here with
us awhile? l believe you don't trust
anybody but yourself to mix the pre-
scriptions. You couldn't sit still
whole evening. could you"
yes, l could" answered Tom. II
do. anyhow, only you don't see me. 1
sit right in that chair and listen to ev-
erything yo'l say" He pointed to an
empty rocker near the one in which
Thisbe sat. A look of amused under
standing came into her eyes.
$50 when the charming Miss Richie
thinks you are serving her an Ice cream
soda it's only an illusion-I mean you,
not the soda. You are really here all
the timer
Tom nodded. Mr. Carlton Cross
booked bored. He was not troubled
with very much Imagination. Later he
had chance to continue his account
of very grand reception he had at
tended at Rochester. Miss Latch heard
the sound of the young lawyers voice,
but her thoughts were with the drug
clerk. The idea that he, down at the
store imagined himself in that partic-
ular chair fascinated her. She looked
at the empty rocker, and as the twi-
light deepened and the street lamp was
lighted she could fancy that the shad-
ow which the pillar threw on its high
back was Tom.
Two days later, instead of leaving by
the front door, Tom came around from
the side of the house In one hand he
held little bunch of pansies He
handed them over the rail of the porch,
his hat in his other hand, without a
word
''Oh, the beauties! Here's a yellow
one with purple eyes and purple one
with yellow eyes," exclaimed Thisbe.
When Tom was gone she remembered
Ophelia's saying:
"Pansies-that's for thoughts
She also remembered that the poet
Keats was an apothecary's prentice.
The conversation of Carlton Cross be-
came less and less interesting. Being
no lover of flowers himself, it did not
occur to him that the little velvet leaves
were his rivals.
When Tom came home that night he
found Miss Latch on the porch. She
was still holding the pansies In her
hands. He walked to the chair beside
her.
Il thought you said you were sitting
there already" said Miss Latch, With