The Winslow mail., 1911-01-14
CHAPTER II. (Contlnued.)

MY OSdls SHS SdIu ONSI lu6 lClC-
phone, when 1 invited her, II want
you to know him He'll be crazy
about you That type of man, big and
deadly earnest, always falls in love
with your type of girl, the appealing
sort, you know And he has been
love is. But mind, don't hurt him;
he's dear boy. I'm half in love with
him myself, and Dallas trots around
at his heels like poodle"
But all Anne's geese are swans, so
i thought little of the HARRISON man
except to hope that he played respect
able bridge, and wouldn't mark the
cards with a steel spring under his
finger nail, as one of her finds" had
done.
We all arrived about the same time,
and Anne and went upstairs togeth-
er to take off our wraps in what had
been Bella's dressing room. 1t was
Anne who noticed the violets.
Look at that!" she nudged me,
when the maid was examining her
wrap before she laid 1t down What
did / tell you, Kit? He's still quite
mad about her"
Jim had painted Bella's portrait
while they were going up the Nile on
their wedding trip. 1t looked quite
like her, if you stood we'll off in the
middle of the room and if the light
came from the right And just be-
n Cd 1.-Two n
bunch of violets 1t was really touch
ing, and violets were fabulous. 1t
made me want to cry, and to shake
Bella soundly, and to go down and
pat Jim on his generous shoulder, and
tell him what a good fellow l thought
him, and that Bella wasn't worth the
dust under his feet. 1 don't know
much about psychology, but it would
be interesting to know just what ef-
feet those violets and my sympathy
for Jim had in influencing my decision
a half-hour later. 1t is not surprising,
under the circumstances, that for some
time after the odor of violets made
me ILL.,
We all met downstairs in the living
room, quite informally, and Dallas
was banging away at the pianola,
tramping the pedals with the delicacy
and feeling of football center-rush
kicking a goal. Mr. HARRISON was
standing near the fire, a little away
from the others, and he was all that
Anne had said and more in appear
ance. He was tall-not too tall, and
very straight And after one got
past the oddity of his face being
bronze-colored above his white collar,
and of his brown hair being sun
bleached on top until it was almost
yellow, one realized that he was very
handsome. He had what one might
call resolute nose and chin, and a
pleasant, rather humorous, mouth.
And he had blue eyes that were, at
that moment, wandering with interest
over the lot of us. Somebody shout
ed his name to me above the Tristan
and Isolde music, and I held out my
hand.
Instantly 1 had the feeling one
sometimes has, of having done just
that same thing, with the same sur
roundings, in the same place, years
before. l was looking up at him, and
he was staring down at me and hold
ing my hand. And then the music
stopped and he was saying:
Where was it?"
Where was what?" l asked. The
feeling was stronger than ever with
his voice.
II beg your pardon" he said, and
let my hand drop. Just for a second
had an idea that we had met before
somewhere, a long time ago. l sup
pose-no, 1t couldn't have happened,
or l should remember" He was smi-
ling, half at himself
NO." l smiled back at him. 1T
didn't happen, I'm afraid-unless we
dreamed it."
"We?"
Il felt that way, too, for a moment "
''The Brushwood Boy!" he said with
conviction. Perhaps we will find a
common dream life, where We knew
each other. You remember the Brush
wood Boy loved the girl for years be-
fore they really met" But this was
little too rapid, even for me.
Nothing SO sentimental, I'm
afraid" retorted. II have had ex-