Page 8 Advertisements Column 1

Lake County Mail, Issue 1, 29 May 1947, Page 8

fclate ready to be served. John had arrived and was seated beside Neta. But still Aunt Margaret had not come back. “Whatever’s keeping her?” asked George. ■“t don’t understand it.” Jean was puzzled. “Unless she’s got deep in some book or other. I’ll just pour out. She can’t be long now.” Sure enough, befb're the last cup was poured, a ring came to the door bell. Neta went and ushered her aunt into the dining-room. Everybody gasped. “Isn’t she smashing?” exclaimed Neta. This wasn’t the drab Margaret who didn’t care a hang about her personal abearance. She had on a smart navy best one, scarcely ever worn—with a frilly white blouse. Her hair was done in a most becoming stye, and her lace skilfully made-up to show its beast features. The bloom of renewed yoiith seemed to radiate from her. “I’m sorry to be late,” she apologised With a smile. She did not explain that She,. had taken herself to task so thoroughly that she had spent the afternoon at a hairdresser’s “getting things done.” “Well,” teased, her brother-in-law, “wbo’d have thought it? I’m surprised at you at' your age! ” Margaret was not offended. With spirit she replied: “If mother can look young at her age, why can’t I at forty?” “Hear, hear,” replied Gran. •It was a merry meal, to which Gran, did ample justice. They drank her health in a strong brew of tea. George rose to his feet. “Herete to the health of the young old lady, and may we all follow her good example! Perhaps Gran, will be good enough to let us into her secret of keeping young?” Gran, looked a little self-conscious for once., “It’s no secret,” she said. “It’s taking an interest in life, that’s all, and not thinking anybody or anything is too dull to get enthusiastic about.” “Quite a good recipe,” smiled her son-in-law, but Jean herself added, “I think there’s more to it than that, Gran.” “Maybe,” was all Gran, would say. . After tea they had games—the oldfashioned Sort that Jean and Margaret remembered so well. They were just beginning “Spin the Plate” when the doorbell rang. “Oh!” explained Gran, in the middle of a rush for the “plate.” “I forgot to tell you, Jean, I asked Hugh Miller to look in. He’s such a nice fellow and a little Iqnely.” The newcomer was warmly welcomed. Gran, introduced him all round. “You’ve already met my daughter Margaret,” she told him. Hugh looked at the bright face smiling’ at him. “No, I don’t think so.” “This afternoon, at the station.” Margaret made a mental resolution. “I’ll see to it that he knows me the next time,” she thought. The evening passed all too soon. Margaret and Hugh Miller were going the same way, so what was more natural than that he should escort her? “Any time you’re in Barfield again you’ll come to see us?” Jean asked Hugh, “I’ll be delighted,” was the reply. “I’ve been telling your sister I’m often here no business.” Jean had a suspicion that something other than business might bring him back. She hoped Margaret would not be silly and freeze him off. If she had been able to follow them along the road she would have heard things that would have reassured her. For, as he bid goodbye, Hugh Miller took Margaret’s hand. “It’s strange I didn’t notice it earlier, but there is a striking likeness between you and your mother.” The sincerity in his voice brought a new happiness to Margaret that all her learning had not been able to give. At last Gran, had agreed to go to bed. Jean went upstairs to say a last goodnight. Against the pillows, in her pale pink bed-jacket, Gran, looked more like the traditional type of old lady. “I’m glad you’ve £ot a bed light,” she told Jean. “Sometimes I don’t sleep well. We : old folk don't* you know. And I like to sit up and have a read.” Jpan’s eyes fell on the book on the