Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-10-04
| "A Second | |ESmeralda.
 By constancs D'Arcy Mackay.
Copyright. 1907. by M. M. Cunningham.

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 When Hollister Fanshaw first caught sight of her she was standing at the door of a dairy, her hands clasped be- hind her head. Her gown of rose col { ored print accentuated the lines of her supple figure Her golden brown hair was gathered in heavy coil at the nape of her neck. Beside her stood a brimming milk pail, its sides gleaming as the light struck them.
 Fanshaw paused. The roads over which he had ridden were dusty and parched under the heat of the July sun, and suddenly this dairy, set in it's cool expanse of fields, seemed a most desirable place. Near by was the farm to which it belonged, rambling old fashioned homestead. Fanshaw's eyes swept 1t in one comprehensive glance and returned to the girl at the dairy door. He decided that nothing short of a glass of milk could quench his thirst. Dismounting, he tethered his ! horse to the fence.
 Could you tell me the road to Berke- ley? he inquired, for the truth was he had lost his way twice that morn | ing, not so much from neglect of read i ing the signposts as from dreamy in attention to their pointing fingers, for the spell of the great outdoors was on him, and he reveled in the air laden with the mingled fragrances of wood and field, the lure of the long white road. Yet now that he had questioned his dairy divinity he was once more alert; his dreaminess had fallen from him with astonishing quickness. But before the girl could reply an older I woman looked from the doorway, and it was her voice that answered him.
 She was plump and kindly, with a face like a December apple, ruddy and bit withered It was evident that few visitors passed that way, and she was urgently hospitable in her desire that Fanshaw should not only refresh himself with her buttermilk, but that he should drink it in comfort, indicat- : ing bench inside the dairy where the air seemed like mountain spring com pared to the drowsy blaze of noon without Fanshaw's horse was con- tentedly cropping beneath the shade of giant oak, and Fanshaw himself was equally contented and inclined to finger. He learned that this pleasant bit of rolling country was the Farley farm, and in return he vouchsafed the information that he had come from the Hillbrook House, the chief hotel of q summer colony some eight miles away. As he talked he glanced from time to time at the girl.
 "A princess of curls and cream" he thought to himself. q wonder how such a jewel came to have rustic setting!"
 q suppose you live here with your aunt, Mrs. Farley?" he hazarded.
 The girl smiled.
 Mrs. Farley is not my aunt,' she answered in soft, drawling voice. "Im an orphan. I work here."
 Mrs. Farley opened her mouth as if to add something to this speech, then, thinking better of it. closed it again and, rising, went to shelf near by and continued her skimming.
 The girl regarded Fanshaw with wide, childlike blue eyes.
 "I calculate to go to the city some day myself" she said. Tell me about New York" And Fanshaw, glad of such a listener, plunged in at once with descriptions of Broadway and Wall street, the rush, the clamor, the glitter. of it all. The girl listened, en- tranced. Even Mrs. Farley hung on every word.
 T often tell Josiah it's shame" she burst out, "that we live right here from year to year and never get away. Why, the biggest place we've ever been to is Clifford Junction. And guess that, though the stores there seem big enough for me, they wouldn't be anything in New York"
 "Oh, don't know" said Fanshaw quickly, fearing that his enthusiasm might have sown the first seeds of dis content. Plenty of New Workers would be glad to own such beautiful place as this"
 Mrs. Farley glowed with pleasure. 'I'll tell that to Josiah" she exclaimed. "He thinks there's nothing like the farm. And I hope" she added, that If you're passing by this way you'll stop in and see us some time again"
 Fanshaw promised that he would All at once the chattering groups on the hotel veranda seemed vapid and uninteresting. He discovered that golf and tennis bored him unutterably. Even the plans for the flower cotillon to be held three weeks hence failed to inspire him. though only the day be- fore he had been one of the prime nov CTS of the innovation. The sweets of popularity had become suddenly taste less, for the very reason perhaps that Fanshaw had had more than his share.
 Every one liked the broad shoulder cd. frank eyed young fellow, from the senior partners of the law firm where be was making conspicuous progress ] to the freckled urchins that followed i him about the golf course He had won his own way up. His friends were the friends of a man who had a seemingly inexhaustfble supply of na- tive energy and pluck- He worked hard, and when time for recreation came he played hz1l. throwing himself f into the enjoyment of his present va-