The Press. (Stafford Springs, Conn.) 1883-1935, 1906-10-03
AMONG THE
LILACS
BY Virginia Leila WentZ
Copyright, 1905. by w. r. Caldwell

warm that they had ventured to sit
! There was a suggestion Of approach
ing summer In the breeze, and the air
was redolent with lilacs. By glancing
toward the right it was not difficult to
see where the fragrance came from.
| On the other side of the hedge in the
Of plumes, and beyond that, white in
the gray light, rose the old Howard
| house, the oldest in the tiny village as
well as the largest. Selden Howard
was the only living representative of
the family.
Presently the group on Mrs. Jones'
veranda began to speak of Selden,
leading up to the subject from the fra.
GRANGE of the bushes.
'Them lilocks Is sickishly sweet"
observed Mrs. Jones herself.
Really nauseating." acquiesced the
boarder who had been spending the
winter here in this little cottage among
the Berkshire hills. by the way, I
saw a strange man at the postofice
this morning and overheard some one
say he was Mr.. Howard. Very good
looking man he was and seemed to
know a thing or two"
THAT'S him." confirmed Mrs. Jones.
"But why shouldn't he know a thing or
two? He don't do nothin' but travel
and trapse round the country. Hardly
ever home and won't have a thing to
do with the people In the village"
The moon was beginning to show
red and low in the warm dusk, and the
lilacs made superb black shadow eff
fects on the lawn. The little tired out
city girl who sat on the lowest step Of
the veranda and who had just arrived
that day had nothing to say. She was
filling her whole soul with the beauty
Of the coming night.
Pretty soon, carrying her lamp, she
went upstairs to her bedroom. She
looked at the high mound Of feather
bed and at the small window at the
foot into which was already flooding
the spring moonlight. For a moment
she stood irresolute; then she lowered
the shade, slipped on a cheesecloth XII
mono, drew the pins from her hair, let
ting 1t fall about her shoulders, blew
out the lamp and followed her whim to
lean from the easement.
It had been very long while since
Katherine Hope had looked from a
window over a garden when the moon
was shining. True, from the window
Of their stodgy city lodgings on Elev-
enth street, her mothers and hers, she
had leaned out at times when her head
was hot and aching with too much
work and had caught a breath of out
side air. But that was so different.
From that window she could look out
only on clotheslines, sheds, the back
windows Of the boarding houses on the
next street, and there whatever restful
thoughts might come to her were made
havoc Of by an accordion, cheap coon
songs or the caterwauling Of feline
creatures on the fences below.
And now-oh, the feathery, pale for
escence Of the lilacs over yonderi
Katherine drew her breath in with de-
light as their dominant scent came up
to her. If only her dear mother could
be with her to enjoy the beauty Of it
all! But that had not been possible.
When the physician had shaken his
head gravely over his young patients
wornout condition and commanded an
immediate change in the country it
had been all that mother and daughter
could do to scrape together the meager
savings for Katherine's rest of fort
night And Katherine was not one to
new and whimper over impossibilities.
She was here now, and she would
make the best of every moment to
grow strong and we'll again that she
might go back with new life to her
Office work and the companionship of
her sacrificing little mother.
The mild country air and the thou
sand odors Of the spring played upon
her face and lifted her loosened hair,
gilded by the moonshine into the like
ness of an aureole. Her white kimono
fell softly around her: from the position
In which she held her arms her soft
elbows were plainly visible, and her
exquisite face, leaning back a bit
against the dark painted frame of the
window, stood out like cameo.
The girl was little conscious Of any
thing except the wonder of the night,
nor was she aware Of one who watched
her moment from the shadow Of the
nlacs in the garden beyond the hedge.
Selden Howard was returning from his
dog kennels, whence he had gone to
look after a sick collie, when his eye
had CHANGED to fall upon the figure in
the easement, and in sheer artistic ap-
probation had rested there.
"She's like some young princess" he
thought to himself, pursuing his way
toward the big house, ''or a goddess.
Her hairs like the silvery floss around
corn. Her name ought to be Perdita,
Marpessa or Ariadne. How ever in
the world did the Jones family stumble
across such a creature?" The glamour
Of the girl wove itself into his dreams,
and In waking intervals he pondered
on plans for an acquaintance. "Ah, ha,
have itt' at last laughed he.
Early the next morning he went a.
fishing. AS luck would have 1t, he
secured a well filed creel. On his way
home, without ceremony, he lifted the
latch Of Mrs. Jones' low back gate and
entered. He walked right up to the
kitchen window, for there stood Mrs.
Jones rolling the dough for breakfast
biscuit.
"Good morning, Mrs. JONES'" said he.
1--WE got such a jolly big creel full Of
fish here that don't know what to do
with them. There's no one over there"
-nodding toward the big White house.
"but my housekeeper, and she's sick
this morning; so I'm wondering If you'll
accept these" With the gallantry Of a
knight he held out to her his creel.
"Oh, Mr.. SeldenP' exclaimed the good
woman, bit flustered, but smiling with
unmistakable appreciation. (Would the
heavens fall next? When had Mr.. Sell
den Howard last honored her humble
dwelling like this? Surely not since his
mother died, poor soulD Accept them
Well, just guess will! And so Mrs.
Patch is sick! Well, you'll just stay
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