Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1910-05-19
CHAPTER Ill

The front dOor-beu rang-it was IN
ld-fashioned continuance, on a wire,
and pealed censoriously-and Zelda
thrust the book back into the trunk
and ran to the second floor landing TO
listen. Polly, the colored maid fall
work, admitted Mrs Forrest warily
Good morning, Aunt Julia! We'll
come to your ancestral home! Come
on up!" Zelda called from the top of
the stairs.
What on earth are you doing, zee?"
demanded Mrs. Forrest, gathering up
her skirts and beginning the ascent.
I'm cleaning house a little"
My dear Zee, this will never do"
And Mrs. Forrest, having reached the
second floor, surveyed her niece with
disapproval.
DO you mean the clothes?" asked
Zelda, putting her hand to her turban.
7 flattered myself that I looked rath-
er we'll. I'm exploring the garnet. I'm
not really doing anything but poke
about; and it's great fun, raking in
the dust of the pasta very remote
past, tool"
This is a horrible hole, Zee. You
must go right down." Mrs. Forrest
was staring about frowningly.
A trunk stood within the arc of the
candies flame. 1t was filled with old
papers and letters, and Zelda flung
up the lid to pique her aunt's curiosity.
You must burn all these old things.
Your grandfather never destroyed any
| thing, and your mother kept all he left.
| Old letters ought never to be kept;
| they're dangerous. I'm about settled
myself. 7 came in to see how you're
getting on, Zee"
I'm going to see what I can do with
| this old furniture"
| You'd better buy what you need
new. I never had any patience with
this idea of gathering up old rubbish
just because it's old. And then there's
the microbe theory; it sounds reason
able and there's probably a good deal
in it."
Horrors! The garret's probably
full Perhaps there are some in those
Eslove-letters." Zelda laughed; her
mirth was seemingly spontaneous, and
dubbed up irrelevantly.
If there's anything Of mine up here,
for heavens sake burn it right away
And now clean yourself up and come
out with me. You must show yourself
or people won't know you're in town.
And come home to luncheon with me
afterward."
I'D like to, Aunt Julia, but really
mustn't. Father comes home to lunch
con"
"Oh, he does, does he? Well. he has
had q good many meals alone and the
shock wouldn't kill him"
He's perfectly splendid! He's Just
as kind and thoughtful as can be-
didn't know that anybody's father
could be so nice"
Mrs, Forrest rose and swept the gar
ret disapprovingly with her lorgnette;
and there may have been an excess ct
disapproval that was meant for somc-
thing else. Julia Forrest was a wom-
an without sentiment, for there are
such in the world. The lumber-room
did not interest her, and she was anx-
ious to get out into the sunlight. She
was too indolent by nature to have
much curiosity: she was not a woman
who spent all her rainy days porting
over lavender scented trif1es and weep
ing over old letters. She was born in
this old house, and she had played as
a girl in the wooded pasture that once
lay east of it Her fathers fields were
now forty-foot lots, through which
streets had been cut, and the houses
that had been built up thickly all
about were of formal urban type
The Merriam homestead was to Julia
Forrest merely an old, shabby and UNI
comfortable house whose plumbing
was doubtless highly unsanitary. She
had been married there; her father
and mother had died there: but the
place meant nothing to her beyond tbs
fact that it was now her niece's home
1t occurred TO her that she ought tC
see Zelda's room, to be sure the cir
was comfortable; but Zelda did not in
vite her in when they reached the sec
ond floor.
The letters were beautiful; they
wrote lovely letters in those days,
Zelda persisted ironically: I wish
j, could have some half as NICE
l DO get your things, Zee; it's fin,
/ outdoors and the outing will do yol
5 good
$ Tn very sorry, but I can't go thi
E morning I have a lot to do. I'll b.
: freer after little.