The Aberdeen weekly. [volume] (Aberdeen, Miss.) 1878-1933, 1919-12-05
CHAPTER XVI.

Breakfast was brought 10 him In his
room as usual; but he did not make
his normal healthy raid upon the
dainty tray: the food remained I'M
touched. and he sustained himself
upon coffee-four cups of it, which
left nothing OF value inside the glis-
tening little percolator. During this
process he heard his mother being
summoned TO the telephone in the hall.
not far from his door. and then her
voice responding: Eyes? Oh it's youl
. Indeed l should, OF
course Then III expect you
about three. Yes.
GoodDy till then" few minutes
later he heard her speaking TO some
one beneath his window, and, looking
out. saw her directing the removal Of
plants from small garden bed TO
the Majors conservatory for the win
ter She laughed gayly with the Ma
jOrs gardener over something he said
and this unconcerned cheerfulness of
her was terrible to her son.
He went to his desk. and. searching
the jumbled contents of drawer,
brought forth a large. unframed pho
tograph of his father. upon which he
gazed long and piteously, till at last
hot tears stood in his eyes. Poor,
poor father - the son whispered bro
kenly. poor man, I'm glad you didn't
known
He wrapped the picture in a sheer
of newspaper, put it under his arm.
and. leaving the house hurriedly and
steadily. went downtown to the shop
of n Silversmith, where he spent sixty
dollars on resplendently festooned
silver frame for the picture. Having
lunched upon more coffee. he returned
TO the house at two o'clock. carrying
the framed photograph with him. and
placed it upon the center table in the
library. the room most used by Isabel
and Fanny and himself. Then he went
10 front window of the long "recep-
ton ROOM" and sat looking out
through the lace curtains.
George looked often at his watch.
but his vigil did not last an hour AT
ten minutes of three, peering through
the curtain. he saw an automobile stop
in front Of the house and Eugene Nor
gan jump lightly down from 1t. The
car Was of new pattern, low and
long, with an ample seat in the tom
neau. facing forward; and a profess
sional driver sat nj the wheel, a |
strange figure In leather goggled out |
of all personality and seemingly part |
of the mechanism.
Eugene himself. as he came up the |
cement path TO the house. was fig |
ure of the new era which was in time
to be so disastrous 10 stiff hats and
skirted coats; and his appearance af-
forded a debonair contrast TO that of
the queer-looking duck capering at the
Anderson ball in an old dress coat.
and next day chugging up National
avenue through the snow in his night
mare of sewing machine. Eugene
this afternoon was richly clad in new
outdoor mode: his motoring coat was
soft gray fur; his cap and gloves were
of gray suede. and though Lucy's hand |
may have shown itself I'm the selection
of these high garnitures he wore them
easily. even with a becoming hint of
jauntiness. Some change might be
seen in his face, too. for successful
man is seldom TO be mistaken. espe-
cially If his temper be genial. Eugene
had begun to look like a millionaire.
But. above everything else. what was
most evident about him. as he came
up the path. was his confidence in the
happiness promised by his present
errand; the anticipation In his eyes 1
could have been read by q stranger.
His look at the door Of Isabel's house