Montour American. (Danville, Pa.) 1866-1920, 1906-08-16

! ana all, before tne summer uOWu bS
Miss Irene Warden, 4 beauty (and
aware of iu, was writing to her girl
chum concerning the bachelor who had
just taken the big colonial house with
the carriage road and iron archway
which for several seasons now had
abandoned hope of usefulness.
She was writing by an open window
where the scent of the roses came up
from the front garden. Beyond lay
the pretty tree lined road over which
the bachelor and his champagne col
ored trap had just flown by.
although I've told you his name is
Horace Matlock." ran on Miss War
denS pen. Il haven't told YOU what he
looks like. Hes an old man, forty or
fifty. | snpuld say. Ills nose is rather
too big, although people call him hand
some. and hes bit bald, but. then,
suppose most men who live in big
house, ana drive smart traps have big
noses Nhlt* Miss Warden smiled
little soft smile into the glass above
her Gr1ssins table and then bent over
her pD.tfoliD again:
"Gr cour q Td prefer dear old Tom.
Hes young and stunning and sings
college songs 50 beautifully. but as
YOU know. ho hasn't Il red, And / real
] ~ nust d something this summer,
Mad@c. My already meager allowance
will be c;.t considerably in the autumn,
for in Srutcmber pas going to enter
the matrimonial game himself-a hor-
rid, designing NCidow too, SO l must
step lively in the parlancc Of street
+ car officials
"In point of fact, though" pursued
the volublc pen. "it'n be pretty easy,
plain sailing" | haven't a single good
looking rival up in this out Of the way
place except old Professor Thornton's
daughter and she's the qulctest poke
OF a cirl-a regular stay at home. And
rs for dressing well, Madgc. you and
I spend rs much on our gloves and
wells. | reckon as she does on her
whole outfit. That's what comes from
having a bookworm for a father"
The next week IN the little village
postofIice a friend presented Mr.. IIor
ace Matlock to Miss Irene Warden.
/ Apparently the meeting was 10y accl-
dent but Miss Warden felt her smooth
cheeks flush. ana her habitual com
posura was rippled for a second, while,
for his part. Mr.. MatlOck scarcely look
ed at her and. having passed con
ventional glad to meet YOU" lifted his
hat politely and walked out to his
smart little trap.
81 had on my chic voilc, the one
Aunt TeSsc sent me from Paris, YOU
know" wrote Miss Warden TO Madge
land my big white hat with Hopping
fuchsias But It was all rank waste"
She couldn't understand #. Her
dreams hadn't ended that way at all
One day in The tiny idle little bank
Mr. Horace Matlock stopped short as
be recognized a stopped, gawt figure
with a patrican face.
why, It's Professor Thornton, isn't
IT. he cried, stepping up 10 him with
n cordially outStretchcd hand
When Matlock years ago had entered
Yale as freshman Thornton had been
tutoring. and quite friendship had
sprung up between them Subsequcnt-
Is they had lost track Of each other
But the satisfaction Of the younger
man in meeting the older one again
was genuine.
Poor old profess Sor. How thin and
worn and aged he's become" thought
Matlock as he drove the professor
home to his modest little cottage.
Out In the cottages side yard by the
hollyhocls a girl was picking n great
bunch of sweet peas for the lunch
table. When she heard the smart lit
tie trap stop at the gate she looked
quickly up from the blossomlng vines
and wondered Who was the dlstln- !
guished looking stranger? And where
had he picked up dear daddy?
a few days later Matl0ck drove up to |
the cottage again. 1t was only decent, !
he told himself, that he should show
the professor some attention and take |
him driving now ana then P9A&s |
some day also he would take thb pro
fessor's daughter. He liked her. He /
liked the natural unabaShed way I'm |
which she had acknowledged her ia |
Tiers presentation of him, with her {
sleeves rolled up and her arms full Of I
sweet peas; he liked the width between |
her eyes, the breadth Of her brow, the |
lines of her mouth She was less pret.
ty than many young girls. but there |
was about her a freshness sweet. |
ness, that pleased him, and he had no |
ticed that her figure IN her simple lit |
tie gown was well nodded and slim.
One evening toward twilight. when |
out In the open lawn bats were whlrl |
Ing aimlessly and tirelessly, MatlOck |
dropped IN upon the professor to make |
him little call. He had fetched him |
his afternoon mail as preteXt While |
they were sitting out on the porch from !
the shadowy little parlor came the |
first chords Of Beethoven's beautiful !
Moonlight Sonata"
That's Cynthia" said Professor
Thornton in answer to his guests start /
of surprise She's never too tired. no /
matter how hard or long the day has /
been, to play that sonata for me In the
evening. love 1t above all other writ
ten music. and she never forgets"
Then while the tree toads droncl /
their haImonies he told Matlock a lit
tie about his daughter how four years
ago ne had suffered a paralytic stroke
and she had been obliged tD leave
school IN Ter graduating yyar and /
nurse him u ght md day With ntirlng
swcc.nc-s; how. when their slender In
cone was exhausted year back, She
l..