The Forrest City times., 1910-10-21

Forbes-had been filled with pleas ure: there was painful delight in the rush 10 the distant station in the motor car filled with merry girls in dainty attire because Jack TreadweH was laundering along in another car close behind.
 At the station everybody talked at once, and II was not until the very last moment that Jack Treadwen found an opportunity to speak to Eleanor
 T shall motor back to town later on. If I journey through Rosedale, may I stop and see you. Miss Bird sey?"
 Eleanor's brown eyes sought his in sudden trepidation The roads are ireadful-we are quite in the back woods" she faltered
 Jacks face heightened. You dis courage me- he said quietly. Per haps We may meet this winter
 T am going home to Rosedale and I shall probably remain there. Good bye. Mr Treadwell." holding out her hand. and thank you for those de lightful drives in the Whirlwind. She leaned over and touched the shining ear with a gloved finger.
 Then the rest of them crowded around her once more and Eleanor withdrew her hand from Treadwell's close grasp and made for the waiting train
 When the last goodbye had been said and her face had nodded a smil- ing farewell from the window, the station melted from view as the train gathered headway down the steep grade.
 Eleanor looked wistfully at the articles in her lap; each friend had contributed something to the pleas ure of her journey.
 She was very glad that she had not encouraged Jack Treadwell to come to Rosedale. The fashionable set to which he seemed to belong by right of birth or wealth was far above the quiet round of her simple country life from which the kindness of her cou- sins had afforded her a brief escape She knew that. Treadwell was an artist and some one had said that he was rich In the hurried round of pleasure there had been little time for personal talk A poor little country girl had nothing in common with these pleasure-seekers now. Once more Eleanor assured herself that she was glad she had told Tread well the roads about Rosedale were bad
 Because she was glad. the tears came into her eyes and her throat Sshtened Then the tears were winked angrily back and she opened a magazine.
 When the lights of Rosedale pricked out of the deepening twilight that night the past week seemed to drop away Uncle Henry tramped across the platform to meet her
 Hello, Eleanor l guess Aunt Hester,H be glad to see you: little May has got the measles. You'll ind plenty to do"
 Indeed the present was crowded with work and the brief past was plotted out Once in a while Eleanor paused in the round of some tiresome duty with her head poised in listen ing attitude. her heart beating suf- focatingly.
 The distant sound of an automobile horn momentarily growing louder the z-z-zz-zipping rush past the farm house-and the dying blast of the horn sinking into silence.
 Then the ordinary noises of every day life drowned the tumult in Flea nor's breast and she would resume her tasks bravely
 Sometimes she wondered what Jack Treadwell would have thought if he could have seen the plain. old-fash- toned farmhouse with it's clustering. weather beaten outbuildings all set fin the midst of giant locust trees and Towering shrubs. It was very diff. terent from the handsome country residences he visited
 One August day Eleanor was hang. ing clothes to dry in the sunny side yard. Martha Fopes. Aunt Hester's maid-of-all-work had caught the measles from little May and in high dudgeon had taken to her bed. In a community where help was scarce there was no alternative except to take hold and do Martha's work This Eleanor did with all the strength she could put forth.
 Today she was tired and depressed and feeling very much out of 1t all as she pinned the garments on the line. Inside the pink sunbonnet her dark eyes shone wistfully as she heard the approach of a motor car She turned her back to the road and pinned q sheet with e1actins care.
 The machine approached. slowed down and stopped outside the fence Eleanor stood transflxed. the sleeves rolled back from her round arms.
 "Is this. MT. Henry Birdsev's placer" asked q familiar voice-a voice which Eleanor would never for get. Her heart leaped: then she thought of the shabby old house; in rad disorder now. Of the world to