The Wrangell sentinel., 1917-01-18

ed of this latest whim. Mrs. Cur win devouAy hoped that it would be soon.
 However, there was one allevia- ton for her misery. Connie seemed to have lost her enthusiasm over doing the exposition. She spent her time investigating art schools and studios, leaving her mother to plunge into all the delights of shop ping, of which the good woman did not soon tire. To be sure, Connie might have shown a little more in- terest in her purchases. It was all very well to say that as an art stu dent she would need few clothes. Mrs. Curwin knew better. Connie had always been fond of clothes, and some day she would wake up from her art dreams and find that her wardrobe was bare.
 But her daughters indifference "to her real interests did not pre- vent Mrs. Curwin from entering eagerly into all her plans for the studio. If only they had brought some of their home furniture with them! Connie tried to explain pa tiently how out of place the heavy, elegantly upholstered pieces would be in studio and how much more delightful it would be to pick up the necessary things one at time in the various curio shops. This last idea was balm to her mothers ruffled feelings. It offered such in- finite possibilities for shopping.
 With this laudable object in view she soon became familiar figure to all the curio dealers. Connie was usually the interpreter, but if, as often happened, she did not care to go Mrs. Curwin never lacked the courage to go alone. Each day she came home with some new art treasure, and the girl had not the heart to spoil her delight by re- minding her that they already had enough traps to fill two ordinary studios.
 These were weary days for Con- nie, and yet she was too proud to confde her sufferings to her moth CT. What good would it do any way to disturb that serenity? And she had had no word from Jim in answer to her note. Small wonder, for what could he say? And yet and yet-he might have
 She had been sitting on a bench in the Jardin des Tuileries, and now she rose with start and tried to enjoy the fountains splashing and glittering under the July sun and the pretty French children with their bonnes in peasant caps.
 As she glanced down the path she saw a we'll dressed American looking from side to side as if in search of some one. Her heart gave a leap. He looked like Non sense! She was always imagining that she saw him.
 The gentleman came directly to- ward her. There was no mistaking him now. It was Jim.
 She gazed at him. Then the glad light died from her face.
 "You? Here" she said slowly.
 "Just got in from New York; was the cheerful reply. "Found your mother on the Rue de Rivoli, SO here I am." And he took her un- resisting hand.
 "You don't say you're glad to see me. That's rough when a chap comes so many miles to see you, dear"
 The "dear" acted like an electric shock. Wrenching free her hand, she faced him with blazing eyes.
 "You know you ought not to be here. You ought to be at Newport with Maud"
 Jim seized both hands now. He had forgotten the people, forgotten everything but the white, tense face of the little American girl.
 Connie, dear, it's all dreadful mistake, and I came over just as soon as I could arrange it to tell you the truth. It's Cousin James from Colorado, who is engaged to Maud, and the stupid newspaper made the error. But 1 never guess ed you'd care so much, dearest"
 
 Mrs. Curwin found them at the pension sitting in the dusk. As usual, her arms were filled with bundles.
 "Connie," she cried triumphant ly, q have found the greatest bar gains for your studio-a pair of bel lows and leather cushion and"-
 "Studiow Jim interrupted. Some