The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1907-04-16

AAo 0OO1oA6Es
do the work together night and morn
ing somehow and take our dinners at
the hotel on Sundays"
mot much" replied pretty Nellie
Dinsmore, patting the carpet nervously
with her beaded slipper. I'D be a
fright in no time trying to work day
and night. AS soon as you get twenty
a week, twice what I'm getting now.
I'm ready to give up my job. After
having ten a week to spend just on
myself there's no use talking about
the two of us living on $1750 per, with
taxes and insurance TO pay and the cot
tage needing painting. If you really
loved me, you'd sell the place. Tim
Sullivan's dying to buy 1t. Then we'd
furnish up a couple of rooms here in
the hotel and live in style. Mrs. Con-
roy'd give us special rate
"Of $14 a week, leaving $3.50 for
clothes and incidentals."
"Well, there's the money you get for
the place" Graham's face turned
stern, and Nellie added hastily: "Or I'd
stay at the factory until you got your
raise, and then maybe we could find
another place. Anyhow, we'd be put
ting money in bank"
Tom Graham bent over and took
both the girls hands in his.
Nellie, dear, I've some old fashioned
ideas about marriage and-you. l don't
want you to live in hotel after we're
married, with nothing to do but listen
to the gossip of Mrs. Conroy and her
sort. l want a home
Nellie flung aside his hands angrily.
"Oh,' well, Of course, If you want a
home and not wife you might hire
one Of the Mccarthy sters-they're
past forty and won't make gossip-to
keep house for you. But as for me,
don't marry until see something be-
sides dishwashing in a shabby cottage
before me-"
Graham was very white now. In the
days gone by they had played in that
shabby cottage" oh, how happily. 1t
had been Nellie's one refuge from an
unhappy, fearful mother, who had first
driven her husband to drink and then
followed him to premature grave.
Something like an Illuminating mes
sage flashed through his being. If he
forced Nellie into a marriage that ap-
peared distasteful to her, she might be-
come as dissatisfied and fearful as her
mother. He rose abruptly. He could
not picture Nellie in tears, but there
were little lines around her mouth at
this moment that he did not like. He
loved her, but he did not propose to
wreck two lives in futile attempt to
try out the love in a cottage plan. Mel
Their would he give up his tiny ances-
trail home, sole legacy of loving par
ents.
Nellie had been happy there only a
few months before, when she had
boarded with his widowed mother, but
when the latter had died Nellie had
taken up her quarters, with number
of other girls from the shoe factory, at
a second class hotel. Somehow Tom
felt she had changed from the day she
stepped over the hotels threshold, and
he glared back at its brightly lighted
barroom and dimly lighted parlor as be
stood out In the middle of the street.
Tom was telegraph operator at the
the tracks. The main street of the
town led past both, so Tom seldom
missed seeing Nellie each night and
morning as she went to and from work
Once as she passed the cottage he was
washing his few dishes. and he saw
steps. More often, however, he was at
his post in the depot. He hoped against
hope that she would drop him forgiv-
ing line or fling him a nod Of friend
each week he heard more of Nellie's
social popularity. The boys at the new
suspender factory organized a club and
gave a dance Nellie was the belle of
the evening. Miss Mccarthy, who had
come over to the cottage to do some
scrubbing, told him all about 1t, con-
Guiding with a graphic description of
the wonderful new frock which Nellie
had ordered from the city.
That afternoon the weather changed
suddenly The snow came down first
In soft swirling cloud, then with
crisp, needlelike insistence Tom threw
more coal into the depot stove and made
quick run home to take the gerani-
ums out of the window. When he
came back to the station he knew that
a blizzard was closing down on Ridge
field. He wondered how Nellie would
get home, and then Syracuse called
and he had to put his thoughts on his
work.
1t took ali his strength to reach the
cottage across the track. His first in
stinct was to close all shutters and
draw the curtains, but he remembered
his mothers custom of setting lamp
In the window for those who might bt
abroad on stormy nights. Such coy
little kitchen as it lighted, with fire
swapping in the old fashioned cool
stove which Miss Mccarthy polished t.
brilliancy at each visitl
He hummed contentedly as he sa
over the teakettle and brought thu
bread and butter from the pantry
Then he stopped short and listened in
tently What was that scratching nois'
at the door-yes-and now the sound o.
a muffied fall?
He flung open the door, and the wine
blew out his lamp, but against thu
blur of the snow he, saw dark dgur'