The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1907-10-29
A Second
SmeraIda.
By Constance darcy Mackay.
Copyright. 1907. by M. M. Cunningham

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
trimming milk pail, its sides cleaning
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 its
cool expanse of fields, seemed a most
desirable place. Near by was the farm
to which 1t belonged, rambling old
fashioned homestead. Fanshaw's eyes
swept it in one comprehensive glance
and returned to the girl at the dairy
door. He decided that nothing short
Of glass of milk could quench his
thirst. Dismounting, he tethered his
horse to the fence.
could you tell me the road to Berke-
leyT he inquired, for the truth was
he had lost his way twice that morn
ing, not so much from neglect Of read
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
woman looked from the doorway, and
it was her voice that answered him.
She was plump and kindly, with
face like December apple. rudy and
a bit withered. 1t 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 1t 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
a giant oak, and Fanshaw himself
was equally contented and inclined to
nnger. 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
summer colony some eight miles away.
AS he talked he glanced from time to
time at the girl.
"a princess of curis and cream" he
thought to himself. II wonder how
settingw
II suppose you live here with your
aunt, Mrs. Farley?' he hazarded.
The girl smiled.
"Mrs. Farley is not my aunt" she
answered In a soft, drawing voice.
"I'm an orphan. 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 a shelf near by
and continued her skimming.
The girl regarded Fanshaw with
wide, childlike blue eyes.
II 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.
IT 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 I
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
'T'll tell that to Josiah" she exclaimed
HE thinks there's nothing like the
farm. And hope" she added, 'tthat
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 unutterabiy
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
ers 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
ed, frank eyed young fellow, from the
senior partners Of the law firm where
he was making conspicuous progress
to the freckled urchins that followed
him about the golf course. He had
won his own way up. His friends
were the friends Of man who had a
seemingly inexhaustible supply Of ma
tive energy and pluck. he worked
hard, and when time for recreation
came he played hard, throwing himself
into the enjoyment Of his present va
cation with all the zest and ardor of
boy.
His plans now had but one focus
point-the Farley farm. Sometimes 1t
was in the morning he rode over, some
times late afternoon; but, whether late
81 vokn 20
was always there. now molding butter
with swift touches of her deft fingers
now pulling up tiny marauding weeds
from the thrifty flower beds. And, as
always, her talk, beginning where It
might, ended with the perpetually fas-
cinating topic Of the city. Again and
again he was forced to describe 1t for
her, while Esmeralda listened with I'M
tagging attention, but when, to amuse
her, he talked lightly and cleverly of
the summer colony at Berkeley she
paid little heed till he mentioned the
flower cotillon, and then she was like
. child In her eagerness.
would you like to gor' asked Fan
shaw without waiting to consider the
wisdom of the impulse.
Esmeralda was radiant though Mrs.
Farley was dubious concerning clothes.
Yet when Fanshaw rode over next
morning 1t appeared that the question
had been joyfully settled, and Esmer-
aida called to him from the upstairs
window that If he would only wait she
and Mrs. Farley would be down. Aft
err short pause they came, Mrs. Far
ley first in a brown silk dress whose
sleeves and panniers had graced fash
ions that held sway some ten years
ago, while Esmeralda's pale blue cash