The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1908-12-02


Eyes, l suppose you could" Felicia
| returned briskly, but don't see that
there's any reason why you should.
No, you're going this time, Mary
Louise, and no mistake! You may as
| well consider that settled once for all,
and make up your mind what color
you want for your travelling dress"
So, then, Mary Louise surrendered
herself to the delicious whirl of prep
| arations, and walked the next ten days
| with her face full of radiant dreams.
Her mother, in secret moments, grieved
over 1t little; it hurt her that the
child seemed so utterly happy in the
thought of leaving home; her father
understood
"The wanderlust " in her veins; she
can't help it any more than the birds
can. Let her try her wings, mother.
She'll come back to the old nest glad
ly enough. Our girls aren't the kind
to have their heads turned by month
of fashion"
And so Mary Louise's mother hid
her fears, and brought down from
| chest in the sarret the blue silk dress.
A dozen times before it had been taxi
en- out and laid aside as too good to
cut up, but now Mary Louise was to
have a silk waist made of 1t. Girls
never had too many pretty things; and
Mary Louise should not be ashamed
before all those people.
So the planting and the work went
on, until at last the trunk stood packed
ready for the morning start. How
many times Mary Louise had crept up
to the garret in days that now seemed
lives ago, and climbed up on that
old trunk and dreamed Of the Journeys
it had taken After all, that wistful
dreaming seemed nearer than this
strange, bright reality.
A whistle at the foot Of the stairs in
terrupted her glowing thoughts. The
whistle was Toms, and his voice fol-
lowed it. "Polly-Lou, here's a letter
for you'll
Mary Louise shut the trunk and ran
downstairs; she had been expecting
instructions from Aunt Felicia in re-
gard to trains.
"It's Aunt Felicia's letter." she ex
planned, tearing the envelope open.
''Oh, do hope can take the morning
train! 1t seems TO me couldn't stand
it not to get there till night, and have
to wait another day before l see the
ocean! /"
The sentence was broken abruptly.
She read the note once, twice; and
| then without a word handed it to her
mother and walked across to the win
dow. In the silence that followed she
could hear the letter being passed from
one to another; nobody had the heart
to read 1t aloud.
1t was a very short note to mean SO
much. Aunt Felicia was plainly sorry
for the disappointment to Mary Louise,
but 1t could not be helped. Mr.. Tre-
mont's only sister was i'll, and the doc
tor had ordeerd her to spend six weeks
at the seashore, and as she had no one
with whom to leave the children, they
must come, too; and an invalid, three
children and their nurse would so fill
the cottage as to make any other
guests impossible. Aunt Felicia did
hope that Mary Louise would not be
very greatly disappointed, and begged
her to consider it only postponement
| of her visit; she must come to New
York in the fall.
The letter reached Tom last; he read
it and gave long whistle. "If fate
hasn't made a muss of 1t again!" he
exclaimed you'll have to take my
advice, Polly, and go to East Win
stead; there's nothing else left"
Felicia, longing to comfort her sis
ter, darted an indignant glance at him,
but Mary Louise, turning from the
window, said soberly:
81 think will"
There was a moment of consterna-
ton too great for words; then the
chorus broke out.
| 20 Mary Louise, not really!"
"You never could stand 1t in the
world, child, way up there on the
top of nowhere!"
81 know it's hard, dear, but we'll
make the summer as pleasant as we
can, and after all, October will be here
in two months"
But Tom marched solemnly across
the room. Il should esteem 1t an hon.
or to be allowed to shake hands with
you, Polly-Lou," he said, approvingly.
That's what l call grit"
That evening, sitting up on the old
| trunk with mothers arms about her.
Mary Louise confessed that it wasn't
| grit at all.
at seemed as If after I'd got all
ready, I'd rather go to the Desert Of
Sahara than not to go anywhere at
ALL" she cried. I've missed Miss
Gates anyhow, but l do SO want to
see something different for once in my
life, IL it's nothing but a different col
ored barn And l can't put any faith
in something else would be
sure to happen"
Of course she had her way, and the
letter to Aunt Mary was written that
night. The response was immediate