Valentine Democrat. (Valentine, Neb.) 1900-1930, 1906-02-15

| wen, Del1eVe everything . i0AuJ -
the Valentine Festival! I've baked and
iced heart cakes till I can see them, no
matter where I look" Serena Allen Dus-
! tied about her bright kitchen busily. sne
was a large, fair woman, handsome ana
energetic and capable. She was packing
baskets with all manner of things good
to eat. Her mother watched her with
quiet interest.
II hope we'll make enough to pay off
the church debt, this time. Is that my
buggy?" She went over to the window
and looked out. mo; it's Mr.. Billy Har-
rison. You remember him, don't you,
mother? He was laid up with rheuma-
tism when you were here last winter.
They say his boys are powerful good to
him. He rents his place to the Masons
and boards with them, since his wife died.
He has no daughter, and you know what
living with daughters in-law is like; but
I'm not saying but what Katherine and
Marie are not as good to you as they
know how to be-. They don't realize your
diseases"
Mrs. Bently was leaning over, looking
out of the window. She was a plump,
sweet-faced little woman, with wavy,
white-touched hair and gentle brown eyes.
serena" she said, timidly, II don't feel
as If I have any disease at all, and l
should meet a lot of old friends If L
could 20 with you over to the school
house to-day"
Serena looked up from the last basket.
"Why, mother, I wouldn't be guilty OF
letting you go out in this snow for all the
festival is worth. Think how cold 1t IS,
and you had that bronchial affection IN
November! A person of ffty-hve has to
be awfully careful"
II did want to co." Mrs. Bently said,
as she sat down.
81 wish you could, but it's bad enough
for me. I'm too old to be so foolish.
Serena laughed in her comfortable way.
II don't know why being old should
make any difference" Mrs. Bently said.
She felt yer, old and miserable and use
less. ut is a terrible thing to be fifty
five. I hope I'm not rebellious, Serena,
but somehow I don't feel ready to be set
aside"
I'm not surprised, mother, after the
way Marie and katherine treat you. Well,
I'm ready now. You won't have thing
to do-here's the wood right at your hand,
and your tea will keep nice and hot here
on the hearth, and the table is all set for
your dinner. And now there's the buggy,
and I must co." Serena took her little
mother into her arms and kissed her.
Mrs. Bently went over to the window
and watched her daughter climb into the
buggy and draw the lines over the back of
the fat gray horse. II might have gone,
abe said, wistfully. ''It isn't SO very
cold"
The newly fallen February snow lay in
light drifts and patches over the brown
fields, and hung in pretty wreaths and
festoons among the dark-green pines and
following willows and little naked shrubs.
1T looks all lacy, like valentine. 1t
wouldn't have been too cold. I wish 1
could have gone" And then the soft,
wistful look was gone from her brown
eyes and a little spark like the CLEAN of
fire shone in them. Here I am, fifty
five years old, and I can't remember a
single day when I did exactly as 1 pleas
ed, without thinking of what somebody
wanted me to do. I reckon / must be
awfully wicked and rebelious, but-I'm
not going to take dose of Serena's med
icine to-day" She threw the window
open and slowly emptied the glasses that
Serena had so carefully filled. ut must
be terribly wicked" she said, pouring the
liquid upon a little mound of snow, 'but
somehow don't seem to care if it is. Per-
haps shall be sorry when Serena comes" "
Mrs. Bently started guiltily. Some
body was knocking at the front door.
She closed the window and patted back
the little curls of iron-gray hair that the
wind had loosened. A quick color came
into her cheeks. She felt nervous and
guilty. But she hurried 70 open the door.
A man. tall and broad-snouldered, wear
ing a fur cap and long, shaggy overcoat,
stood on the piazza. When he looked at
her she saw that it was Billy Harrison.
The twinkle In his merry blue eyes
brought the hot blood to her checks, just