The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1910-08-31

ito return Mrs. Standings call. You
needn't come. ] rather want to see
her alone. I am interested in her,
ard I want to form IN unbiased
opinion"
But, Sandy"
"Tormentilla," suggested the girl.
do you think you ought to hobnoo
with Tom, Dick, and Harry in mis-
way? Your mother"
"It's fortunate for me that mother
isn't here" Tormentilla's mischiev.
OILS smile was not particularly reas-
snring.
81 know you won't 60 if I ask you
not to-" Miss Green went on persuas-
lively, but quite without conviction.
and I know you won't be so un-
kind as to ask me not to, when I'm
just beginning to follow your advice
and take an unselfsh interest in 9TH
ers will you? One mustn't think
only of oneself, GREENE, you see.
And I'm quite capable Of forming a
proper judgment for myself. You
often told me so. And you admire
Mrs. Standring tremendously. You've
said so from the very beginning,
haven't you? Mr.. Standings got a
most interesting brother, who is IN
love with Audrey. Her parents want
her to marry him, but he lives the
simple life and wears sandals. I've
never met any one who lived on nuts
before-except at the Zoo, Of course
and I'm keenly anxious to see
him"
She hastily put on her hat without
looking at a glass and swung out OF
the room with her usual free n boy
ish stride. Miss Green made no fur
Their suggestion, and, indeed, dared
not. She was honestly too glad, after
their winter together of tears and de-
spair. to find that the girl was cheer
ing I'D. and taking any interest IN the
outside. world, to mind very mucn
what steps she took to drive away
her trouble. -
And Tormentilla went out through
the big hall, past the ghostly shrouo-
ed armor, and down a passage 10 d
side door leading onto the terrace.
If "the family" had been at home
veranda would have been gay Win
bright rugs, and chairs, and dozens OF
large. soft cushions. Now there were
two chairs, hers and Greenles' anu
even q tea-table, but it wasn't very
gay. .
Tormentilla sighed as a sudden
memory of another veranda, IN an
other county, clutched at her heart:
That was the worst Of her kind OF
trouble. Everything you saw or
touched, every other word you hearo,
every smell even-the roses ana
sweet peas-the stables where there
was only Gray Poll eating her head
off and getting fat, the sWeet-Driar
bush at the corner Of tho perennial
border. the freshly cut hay-eVery-
thing brought a memory to t you
like a wicked little knife.
1.-THE country's even worse than
London in some ways" she said, as
she ran down the terrace steps to the
M lawn. IF only I could ave
kent out of their way, things would
certainly have been easier IN town.
She ran down a second flight OF
steps. The lower lawn was bordereo
hv The wide rose walk which led d.
rectly into the bluebell copse and the
mark itself. 1t was not a legitimate
way to the high-road, but all ways
were legitimate to her, and she
climbed the little fence at the enc
of the copse gaily. A gardener taih-
ing to keeper in the distance
watched her disapprovingly.
privileged, she Is" the Keeper
said. 1.-THE Lord knows why.
Climbin' hedges with a decent gaze
within hearing, as she do! MI.
Crimes e says let her be, an am
1ettin' 'er. But the way she's been
brought ups something shockin. IL
is that" -,
AYE" said the gardener. I'm the
Gardens it's the same thing. Pullln'
the roses off in her brainless 1emale
way. instead Of bringin' a pair OF
scissors or askin' me for my knife.
Treadin' on the beds all over. rake
no notice of 'er,' says McGregor'
she's to do as she likes Lord! Hs
something chronic"
tn he continued.