The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1908-03-11


ed for, he Strengthened up and glanced
over his shoulder at Sylvia, but she
was apparently absorbed In counting
something on the ends Of her fingers
so he turne smilingly to his desk and
wrote a long letter to his mother-the
same tender, affectionately boyish let
ter he had always written her, full of
condolences. full Of humor. gayly antic
ipating his own return to her on the
heels of the letter.
In his first letter to her from Shot
over he had spoken casually of Mis-"
Lands. 1t seemed the name was IA
mlliar enough to his mother, who ash
ed about her, and he had replied in
another letter or two, a trihe EN-
phatlc in his praise of her. because
from his mothers letters 1t was quite
evident that she knew good deal con
corning the very unconventional af
fairs of Sylvias family.
OF his swift and somewhat equivO.
cal cOurtship he had had nothing -
had nothing to say about Sylvia at all.
reserving that vital confidence for the
clear sympathy and understanding
which he looked forward to when he
should see her and which, through
dark days and bitter aftermaths,
through struggle and defeat by his
master vice. had never failed him yet,
| fo1
So he brought his letter to a close
with a tender and uneasy inquiry
concerning her health which. she had
lntlmated, was not exactly satisfacto-
ry, and for that reason she had open
ed the house In town in order to be
near DR.. Grlsby, their family doctor.
Sealing aud directing the letter, he
looked up to see Sylvia standing at his
elbow. She dropped a light hand on
his shoulder for second, barely
touching hi.n-a fugitive caress, deli
cate as the smile lowering on her lips,
as the shy tenderness in her eyes.
More letters to your sweetheart
she asked, abandoning her hand to
MIN.
zone more, the last before | see her.
wish you 'ould see her. Sylvia"
Il wish so, too" she answered sim
ply, seating herself on the arm of his
chair as though it were a sldesaddle
Would she care for me, do you
Think asked the girl in a low voice.
Il think so, for your real self"
81 know. She could only feel con
tempt for me as | am"
"She is old fashioned he said rev
erently.
THAT means all that is best in wo-
mantle old fashion of truth and
faith, the old fashion of honor and
faith in horror, the old, old fashion of
love. All that is best, Stephen; all that
is worth the love of man. Some day
somebody will revive those fashions
"Will your"
Dear, they would not become me-"
she said, tie tenderness IN her eyes
deepening little, and she touched his
head lightly in humorous caress.
what shall we do with the waning
daylight?' she asked. 1T is my last
day with you. l told Howard 1t was
my last day with you and l did not
care to be disturbed"
you probably didn't say it that
way" he commented, amused.
II did"
"How much of that sort of thing is
he prepared to stand?" asked Slward
curiously.
GLOW much? | don't know. I don't
believe he cares. 1t is my uncle, Ma
jor Belwether, who is making things
unpleasant for me. had to tell How.
ard, you know"
"What" exclaimed Siward incredu-
lousy.
Certainly. Do you think my con-
duct has passed without protestT'
you told Quarrierp' he repeated.
'Did you imagine 1 could do other
wiser she asked coolly. II have that
much decency left. Certainly l told
him. Do you suppose that after what
we did, what ] admitted to you, that
could meet him as usual7 Do you
think I am afraid Of himT
II thought you were afraid OF losing
him." muttered Siward.
81 was dreadfully. And the morning
after you and / had been imprudent
enough to sit up until nearly dayligh