Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1931-08-13

~eN
could hardly remember. so great was
her amazement, as she mechanically
laid hairpin after stout hairpin upon
the dressing table, taking down her
hair. Was it possible that she had
kept her head? Yes, she had kept It
She had pushed him gently away. She
had just had time to tell him that she
would give him her answer tomorrow,
and then somebody had come in.
She stuck a pin into the cushion on
her dressing table. through the wire OF
a pin curl, and with accustomed fin
gers began to roll up the curl round
the greasy leather of the bigoudi, but
all the while she thought of Evan as
one in a trance. Evan, Evan" she
said to herself, she who had never
called him anything but Mr.. Sinclair,
according to the stilted fashion of her
day, for she vas nothing if not correct
in her behavior; but nov she felt she
might whisper Evan to herself In
the secrecy of her bedroom, a bedroom
which he would soon have the right
to share. She shivered at the daring
thought, and the bigoudi went crooked
so that she had to disentangle it and
roll it up again.
Evan she whispered, stealing q
fearful look at herself in the glass,
and she seemed to see that lean, at
tractive face looking over her shoulder
into the glass at her own reflection.
The tranStixed pin curl in the fore
ground was not a very romantic adj
junct, and, having successfully screwed
it up into its bigoudi, mixture Of lead
and leather, she stuffed it away hastily
into the drawer of her dressing table.
At that moment she heard a voice be-
hind her saying in drawing tones un-
familiar to her ear, How can you put
up with all that hot, false hair on
your head beats me-
Elsa turned; she saw the slim figure
of a girl perched on the back of the
sofa behind her. The girl had an i'm
pudent little face, short, wavy hair;
she perched on the sofa, clad in a
jacket and trousers of rose red silk;
her legs were crossed, and from her
fingers dangled a cigaret. Every line
of her garment advertised the charms
of her young body, yet she seemed
completely unaware. She perched
there, quite at her ease, surveying Elsa
with a disingenuous interest and curl
osity.
And what a bore" she added, "hav-
ing to brush it all out every night"
So convincing was her presence,
though SO improbable her appearance,
that Elsa must perforce take her for
granted. This was no ghost. Ghosts
manifested themselves always in stOm-
achers or crinolines; such was Elsa's
training. This apparition reverted in
nj way to the past, as portrayed either
by Holbein or Winterhalter. Lely and
Vandyke were equally out of the run
ming. This, therefore, was no ghost.
There remained only one thing for
Elsa to say, and, true to her character,
she said it: And Who" she said, "are
your"
"Me?" replied the apparition easily,
increasing and crossing its silken legs;
why, of course, I'm your daughter"
MY daughter?" said Elsa. She
passed her hand with a worried ges-
ture across her forehead, forgetful that
that forhead was o denuded OF its
fringe, a condition in which she never
allowed anybody to see her. Then she
made another obvious remark, for
which, perhaps, she wa scarcely to be
blamed. But" she said, II haven't
got a daughter"
The apparition was unperturbed by
this denial of it's existence. "Oh, not
yet, naturally" it replied, blowing a
of smoke, "but you o will
have. You'll be engaged to Evan to-
morrow"
At this cool intrusion into her most
secret thoughts Miss ~Branksome, out
revolted. Evan? I don't know
who you mean" She said this tri-
umphantly, as though she had settled
the matter and expected the girl to
up the chimney.
Instead of which the girl, her visitor,
in the tolerant way reserved
by the young for the elderly and con-
descended to an elucidation: Evan
Sinclair, my father. He proposed to
you this evening, didn't he? A nice
man. I'm glad you chose him. I'm
sure he and I will get on very well,
But please do buck up about it, because
in a terrible hurry to get born.
When I've finished talking to you, I'll
-un along to his DON and give him :
he same message. Which room is he
n, do you. know?"
(To be continued.)