The Bluffton news. [volume] (Bluffton, Ohio) 1875-current, 1939-06-08

The telephone rang and she an
swered it. Evans was at the other
end of the wire.
"Mother wants to speak to you."
Mrs. Toilette asked if she might
change her plans for Thanksgiving.
will you and your brother dine
with us, instead OF our coming to
you? Our New York cousins find
that they have the day free, unex-
pectedly. They had been asked TO a
house party in Virginia, but their
hostess has had to postpone it on
account of illness"
rs it going to be very grand? I
haven't a thing to wear"
Don't be foolish, Jane. You al
ways look like lady"
THANK you, Mrs. Toilette" Jane
hoped that she didn't look as some
ladies look. But there were, of
course, others. 1t was well for her
at the moment, that Mrs. Toilette
could not see her eyes.
''And / thought" went on the un-
conscious matron, "that if you were
not too busy, you might go with Ev-
ans to the grove and get some
greens. I'd like the house to look
attractive. Is the snow too deep?"
mot bit When will he conner"
You'd better arrange with him.
Here he IS"
Evans voice was the only un-
changed thing about him. The sound
Of it at long distance always brought
the old days back TO Jane.
AFTER lunch?" he asked.
"Give me time to Dress"
"Three?"
Yes
When luncheon was over, Jane
went upstairs to get into out-of-door
clothes. At the foot of the stairs
she had a glimpse of herself in the
hall mirror. She wore a one-piece
lilac cotton frock-with a small
square apron, and an infnitesimal
bib. 1t was nice-looking little
frock, but she had had it for a mil
lion years. That was the way with
all her clothes. The suit she was
going to put on had been dyed. 1t
had been white in its first incarna-
tion. 1t was now brown. There was
no telling its chromatic future.
She heard steps on the porch,
and turned to open the door for Ev-
ans.
But it was not Evans. Briggs.
Frederick Towne's chauffeur, stood
there with box in his arms. "Mr.
Towne's compliments, he said,
and shall | set it in the hall?"
"Oh, yes, thank you" Her sur
prise brought the quick color to her
cheeks. She watched him go back
down the terrace, and enter the car,
then she opened the box.
Beneath clouds of white tissue pa
per she came upon long, low bas-
ket, heaped with grapes and tam
gerines, peaches and pomegranates.
Tucked in between the fruits were
shelled nuts in fiuted paper cases,
cleaning sweets in small glass jars,
candied pineapples and cherries,
punches of fat raisins, stuffed dates
and prunes.
Jane talked to the empty air.
How dear of him
The white tissue paper fell in
drifts about her as she lifted the
basket from the box.
There was little note tied to the
handle. Towne's personal paper was
thick and white. Jane was aware
of its expensiveness and it thrilled
her. His script was heavy and black
the note had, unquestionably, an
air.
Dear Miss Barnes:
II can't tell you how much | en-
joyed your hospitality last night
and you were good to listen to me
with so much sympathy. / am hop
ing that you'll let me come again
and talk about Edith. May L? And
here's bit of color for your Thanks
giving feast.
Gratefully always,
Frederick Towne."
Jane stood staring down at the
friendly words. 1t didn't seem with
in reason that Frederick Towne
meant that he wanted to come-to
see her. And she really hadn't
listened with sympathy. But-oh, of
course, he could come. And it was
heavenly to have thing like this
happen on a day like this.
AS /: ne Strengthened up with the
basket in her hands, she saw her
self again in the long mirror-a
slender figure in green-bobbed
black hair-golden and purple fruits.
She gasped and gazed again. There
was Baldy's picture ready to his
hand-November! Against a back
ground of gray-that glowing fig
uIe-Baldy could idealize her-make
the wind blow her skirts a bit
give her fiuttering ribbon or two,
a glorified loveliness.
She sought him in his studio. 1--WE
got something to show you, darling
dear"
He was moody. Don't interrupt
me, Jane"
She rumpled up his hair, which he
hated. "Mr. Towne sent us some
fruit, Baldy, and this" She held out
the note to him.
He read it. He doesn't say q
word about me-
mo, he doesn't" her eyes were
dancing; "Baldy, it's your little sis
ter, Jane"
"You didn't do 4 thing but sit
there and knit"
Perhaps he liked to see me
Knitting
Baldy passed this over in puz-
zled silence.
where's the fruit?"