Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1907-06-15

| Nv
Babette remarked graeiousiy. pats is
pretty too; it is"
Patricia did not hear any more: she
was wondering why the name Justin
Heriot Forman had such a euriously ia
miliar ring in her ears. Then, in a flash.
she remembered when and where she had
heard 1t. She was sitting on the terrace
at the Davenants-her uncle and Sir Alan
Davenant were talking-she heard her
uncle say again
Justin Heriot Forman-he is a lucky
beggar-an unencumbered estate and two
hundred thousand pounds. He must not
know for month,(but it will be diff
cult not to throw little extra respect
for a prospective millionaire into my
manner. He will be the catch of the
season."
The catch of the season! Patricia's
color rose; sudden swift temptation as
sailed her. This man knew nothing of
the good fortune that was coming Prob
ably few sweet words and chances
would be enough to turn his head, and
then-well, at least Babette's future
would be assured, and moreover Stonor
would see that she did not care She
stepped out through the open window,
looking fresh and cool in her simple
white gown.
pat, Pat! Are you rested now9' her
little sister called out.
The tall dark young man who was
busying himself with the climbing plants
on the wall lower down touched his hat
with a sort of unwilling Difference.
Patricia nodded graciously.
Quite rested" she said, with a smile
! for Babette, though her eyes wandered
to the 1.-THE muscular figure of the man
| opposite. He had thrown off his linen
coat and his strong brown neck and mus
cular arms were bare; as he slowly Sc
lected the right nail for his purpose, and
drove it home with no uncertain stroke,
she watched him with growing approval.
| His well-cut mouth beneath the dropping
dark mustache that was something of a
novelty for an English workingman, the
| deep gray eyes with their frank honest
glance, the broad square brow, all told of
resolution and of reliability.
Patricia was nothing of a physiogno-
mist, but she felt instinctively that this
was face to be trusted
Cause l needn't bother you to take
me out today" Babette went on excited
ly. "Forman is going to wheel me about
all his dinner hour-are you not, For
man?'
| Eyes. if you like, Miss Babette." For
man did not turn; after one glance at
| Patricia's dainty figure as she stood with
in the window he had kept his eyes fixed
resolutely elsewhere.
That is very kind of Forman," Patri.
cha said, with smiling condescension. "But
you must not be selfish, Babette When
is poor Forman to have his dinner if he
takes you round?"
The child's eyes filled with tears
"Am l selfish, Pat? Forman offered
himself-he did really And he does wheel
me so nicely. But ! s'pose if he wants
his wistfully-"d you, For.
man? Pat says"
81 don't want dinner, thank you, Miss
Babette. l shall have something with my
tea"
The deep, grave tones, in spite of their
lack of culture, were not altogether I'M
musical, Patricia noted; with a few hints
the showing of ropes" of which Lord
Drummond had spoken, the man might be
made quite presentable.
at is very good of you, Forman," she
said gently. "Now, Babette, will wheel
! y =
o'clock" Forman was mailing up a par
ticularly refractory John Hopper" and
as lie coaxed it into the place where
Briggs, the head gardener, had decreed
that it should be he could hear the echo
Of the two girls laughter, catch the frag-
ments of a fairy tale that Patricia was
| telling-"and so the poor girl married the
prince and the wicked princess was disap-
pointed after alP'-the clear tones carried
far on the soft summer air
pat, do you know what nurse told me
that prince wanted to marry you
once?"
"You must not believe all you hear"
"But did one? Nurse said you wouldn't
listen to him not for single minute, and
she thought it was a pity, cause you
would have beeen a princess, and you
could have had me to live with you and
given me all sorts of nice things like
used to have when dad was alive. Nurse
said she thought it was selfish of you,' -
the child concluded in her grown-up fash
ion.
"Oh. Babettel" AS Forman drove the
nail in his last strip of cloth for the
John Hopper" he caught the tremulous
sound of the girls voice. at was not so
darling. | will do think of you. But
I there are some things, my Babette-"
They were getting farther away. Down
came the hammer, not on to the nail, but
on the sturdy brown fingers that were
holding it, and at the same moment the
clock of the old church that stood almost
in Lord Drummond's grounds began to
strike. There was a joyful shout from
the other end of the terrace
"Forman Forman! 1t is 12!"
They were coming towards him, Patri-
cia's uncovered hair cleaning like gold in
the sunlight He picked up his linen
Jacket and turned to meet them.
"Now am TO give up my task to you,
Forman, suppose?" Patricia said, with a
smile, as she relinquished her hold of the
carriage.
He took it from her awkwardly; her
slim fingers looked winter than ever as
for one moment his work-stained hand
Law beside them. There was a suggestion
of tears in the sweet voice, in the big
brown eyes that were raised so searching
" and brightly to his. There had been
plenty of talking among the servants at