The Idaho Springs siftings-news., 1909-01-16

TT Is the kindest thing you can do
for me-" ! said at last Il prefer to
be alone when my head aches. When
you get on l will take something and
lie down. and Mary Anne will make
me some tea for lunch. By the time
you come home tired and rather cross
l shall be all freshly dressed and as
cool and comfortable as possible Now.
il you don't start, you will miss your
boat
They finally set out. and I watched
them walk down the path toward the
village. Both were tall and slender.
but there the resemblance ceased en-
tirely. Gabrielle was strictly tailor
made from shoe to hat but Elizabeth
inclined toward softening the severity
of such costumes by various feminine
devices very telling in their effect es-
pecially upon the masculine element
OF society
When Gabrielle turned and waved
her tightlyrolled silk umbrella in a
farewell salute. thought her plain
well-fitting skirt and jacket. immacu-
lately severe linen shirt waist. stiff
cravat and trim little hat with its knot
Of ribbon and long black quill. the only
correct costume for any one. But
when Elizabeth also turned and raised
her red parasol ! was not so sure for
the pretty tan-colored skirt and short
Eton jacket. the dainty white blouse
and the light straw hat with a red
rose under thevbrim. were certainly
very becoming. as well as entirely
suitable.
lay quite still for some hours. then
found myself gradually reviving and
with a strong desire for a cup of tea.
The house seemed very quiet. and
though / opened my door and called
several times there was no response
| was forced to conclude that Mary
Anne had taken advantage OF our in
tended absence to spend the day in the
village. not knowing | had remained
at home.
l therefore got up and went down 10
the kitchen TO see what | could find;
for l had eaten no breakfast. and felt
that | would now be all the better for
a little food
The fire was out. and the prospects
discouraging 10 one disinclined to make
much of an effort: but | found some
crackers. and remembered that Mary
Anne had mentioned putting the milk
on the hanging shelf in the cellar. so
| got glass and went after it. cracker
jar in hand.
The cellar had been well aired and
was much less damp and musty than
on my previous visit. Also. the litter
of boxes and other rubbish had been
neatly piled along the wall, and the
whole place seemed more habitable
The sea breeze swept through the open
windows until the hanging shelf
creaked on its rusty chains. and a ray
of sunlight penetrated the dark re
cess. almost reaching the packing case
at the end.
| found the milk and filled my glass
then wandered aimlessly into the re
cess, sat down upon an upturned box.
and began my lunch. | do not under
stand why should have elected to do
this, when the entire house was at my
disposal. but sometimes one obeys an
impulse without any tangible reason
for doing so.
AS l sat contentedly nibbling a
cracker and slipping the milk | heard
voices. mufIled but quite distinct, as
though on the other side of thin par
tition. At first | was alarmed, but in
an instant | recognized Mary Annes
familiar tones and was corresponding
ly relieved. although her whereabouts
was still mystery.
Now, then" said mans voice i'm
patiently. don't let's have scene.
and, for heavens sake, don't turn on
the waterworks-this place is damp
enough already"
"Oh, Willy. my dear, dear boy" she
said appealingly; don't go for to be
short Wi NEEDN'T now!"
CTO BE CONTINUEDD