NOVELETTE.

Lake County Press, Issue 2464, 6 February 1913, Page 7

NOVELETTE.

moment; I thought 1 heard someone in the hall. If we have had a listener they have been well entertained, without'doubt. Let mo go for a light—-wo won't sit in tho dark any longer.'' "Wait a little while, Tessy. Let s talk a few minutes more; 1 can't bear to have a light just yet. Tell me, before vou get one, how long you actualiv think it will be before we can furnish our nest?" "Oh, five weeks, unless wo got the fairies to help us." "Fairies will help us as much as anyone, I take it," she answered, while I raised her head from my knoc. ami went after a lamp. When the light was procured, I found a number of little things that waited to bo done, so I want about the house, and watched her, as she sat by the low window, looking eagerly out into tho darkness. I knew well enoug for whom slr« watched and waited, and 1 smiled ;i little, quiet smile to myself, while 1 thought how poorly her .separate ac- j tions agreed upon his one subject. i When Rufus Preston was near her, I she was cool and unbending as a queen. She criticised him as though the right was hers, and tormented him > continually in hor quiet way with her sharp-pointed sarcasms. Once in a while she would be her- : self before him, it is true, but not ofVen. For the momentary glimpse that she j gavo him of her heart she_ drew the ; 'llclts and bars stronger than ever. And he was as unreadable as she was. But this evening 1 knew, instinctively, that she longed for his presence i although she did not tell me so. j c I knew, too, that all day she had ' been glad to see the hours fly by. because each one, in its. going, brought the time of his calling nearer. Rut she waited in vain for him ; Ikdid not como, and tho clocks chimed j out the hour of nine. As she heard them, she rose from her seat by tho window, with a sad. half-cynical expression upon her face, and camo towards mo, "Well "I said, smiling. She looked me in the eyes, and through hers her heart told mo freo'y of her secret. I thought then that her face was like the ideal picture of which she had spoken. V "Never imihd," I continued, "there is Martha." "And Id* not care for that," she answered-, \ colouring. "I am glad everything is;'just as it is—that I am poor and plain, and that " "Mr.;*, Preston is handsome and rich." t 'suggested. "Yes. For foolish, we women deservo to suffer, Tossy. Don't let us sr.v anything more about it, over. I'll put the whole subject in a straight jacket—l<~t the light go out, andthat is a»!l, dear." Saying this. Martha took the lamp and together we went to our chamber; I to sleep, she to lie with eyes wid-< staring into the darkness—to hear the clocks toll for tho hours as they died, and to feel what, perhaps, few women feel in life, because few are as strong as true as was she, that if this one delicious cup of joy should pass from her lips, sho. should never find strength of heart to taste another. In all life there was but one draught of nectar for her to sip. The night died away at last, and the sun came up rod' and misty, and with it|r rising life grew, active agfcin. /We went into the town, Martha and I, to remain throughout the day— wo were milliners, and the time was a busy sno for us—and took our dinners with us. Wo talked a little of our room as we walked to town, but it seemed as far off as ever, the day when it should be fitted up to our liking. Dear, dear! it was so hard getting anything ahead, after all, and we had been trying the best we knew for months. It was quite lato that night when we went home. Afar off ho shadows were dusky upon tho hills, and tho tracks of tho day were faint and dim in the west. How beauiful it was—l don't know why I should remember it so plainly, but it seems to mo that I shall never forget it. We did not speak of our front room through the evening, and did not go into it once to speculate upon tho position of such, a piece of furniture—imaginary of .-.course—or hanging of such a picture, as wo had done evening afterJsroning since tho spring had come; ' '&■' But, in tho morning, after wo had eate our breakfast, I said to Martha, putting my arm about her waist - "We must just take a look at our parlour before we go down together. So we went into it together. Goodness! how wo screamed as we thi"\w open the door. How in all tho world had such a sudden transformation been brought about ? I rubbed my oyes to make sure that I was awake. Our room was furnished! Upon tho floor there was a handsome carpet', which looked, for all the world, like a beautiful bed of flowers. In ono corner a little damask-cover-ed sofa was nestled, whilo, to match •it. about tho room were scattered chairs and ottomans. ,At tho windows here hung, long, fleecy, white, curtains, and upon the iral'e was tho picture of tho dashing water and dim hills, together with the ideal face and a delicate crayon sketch. Under a mirror was a table, and upon the table a writing-desk, with a slin of paper hanging out from the side. Martha grasped it, whilo breathlessly we read—'"The is for Martha, tho mirror for Theresa." Martha's face flushed crimson, and she exclaimed, the first words that either of us had spoken since wo entered tho room: "What can this mean?" "The fairies, 0 I answered, laughing. "But whoso is tho hand-writing? is it familiar to you?'' Martha shook hor head. She was taking a peep into tho little pe;ir! lined d°sk. "Who could have done this?" she murmured. "Sure enough, who could?" I an- ! awerrd. ".Mr. Preston wouldn't do i such a thing, would he?" I added, laughingly. "I hone not," sho replied, pushing the desk away from her. (Privately speaking, I think Martha had taken a sort of heroic pleasure., tho niaht bofore, in giving up every thought of tho future connected with Mr. Pioson. Sho did not relish the idea of taking her hopes out of their graves as bright and strong as ever). "And whv?" I queried, a litt'q roughislv. "Of course, if ho did do all this, which I must doubt somewhat, ;. ho did it for somebody; and since it ' could not bo for you, it must bare been

for me, .you know. You ought to bo as happy as a bird, Martha!" Sho did not quite fancy my stylo of reasoning, so .sho turned her head away. Suddenly sho said—"What does it mean about the mirror, Tessy ? Do von remember what 1 said last night? Oh, dear, if " SHo clasped her hands oyer /\er; eyes and retreated to the farthest corner of the room. I "Someone did hear you—l know they did. Don't you remember, I heard a noiso in tho hall ? and our door was i open all the evening, I suspect Mr. I Preston came, alter all, but I take it that ho played tho eavesdropper." "Eavesdropper, Theresa? was that what you were saying?" said a voice, just at my elbow. i "Mr. Preston!" I exclaimed. "We I shall have to get our landlord to nail ' up our back door so that people can't : creep in upon us in this way. Never mind, your presence is quito acceptable now. Como and see Martha's present. He was not oxpecting this, and so coloured like a bashful girl, as I pointed him to tho desk. "Isn't it beautiful?" I asked. "Rut mv i^ift is the mirror yonder. I take it that that means somehing." "Where do you suppose all thes* things came from?" I added, biting my lips to repress my laughter. "From tho upholsterer's," he an swered. "Oh, I didn' doubt that. But how did they como h^re?" "It must bo that someone brought them.'" "I n —deed!" I exclaimed, taking breath. "I do not need to question you any farther. You have told us more than wo were certain of before. "We weren't sure that they were brought, oven." Ho laughed and glanced at Martha. I was quite sure, then, that he wanted me to leave tho room. "I don't think Martha is very well pleas-id with them," I continued 'Why, Theresa!" she .ejaculated, looking up, reproachfully. "How could you say that?" "You want more mirrors, you know you do," I answered. "By tho way, Mr. Preston, shouldn't you think Martha would have sense enough to leave tlie room Sho knows as well as she wants to that you have something to sav to me." By tho way that Mr. Preston and Martha coloured, I knew that I had pxnrossed their thoughts perfectly. But I did not caro to go in a hurry. So I stayed awhilo longer. . When I went, perhaps, I played eavesdropper, and then, again, perhops I didn't. But certainly, I havo a distinct impression of hearing Mr. Preston say a great many fine things, to Martha, and of hearing, her answer in a low, j-oft tone, that he was dearer than anybody in the world to her ; and I havo a confused idea of seeing a door .suddenly opened, and- who was it that ran as fast as their feet could fly to get oat of sight, and who didn't succeed? And who was married that autumn, and had the wedding-break-fast in that same front room? Ask Mr. Preston and Martha!

OUR FRONT ROOM. Martha and 1 SilL Planning together through the whole long afternoon; n part of our urao with tears in our eyeir, for we were not rich, and money came grudgingly to us; and a part of the time with our faces radiant with smiles. Planning how this little debt could be paid, how that obligation could be liquidated, and how such a sum of money could bo made to go a long way, and. lastly, but not leastly, how we could manage to furnish 'our front room. This last may seem very strange to you, reader, and, even while writing it now, I cannot refrain from indulging iu a little smile-. But I'll explain how it was. Martha and I were not sisters—onlv friends—though I doubt if sisters ofteii live as harmoniously together as did we. We were but mere workiug girls—--60 the lofty part of humanity would have dubbed us, I suppose—in the lit- / tie town, upon which we could lookas wo-sat there and talked together. We, were of those who must, to be happy , have a homo somewhere—a little sacred place, or sanctuarv, where tho great breath of the world cannot sweep deseerntingly in. So, in afFain, little house*! out & the town, we rented rooms, ana'made our selves as comfortable and happy as we could in a domicile of .our making. We should have had things in much better fashion, and much more to our tastes, had not Martha been obliged to send a great share of her earnings to a sick brother. This was why wo had to plan so much, and out of three demands- for as many shillings, wisely judge which was the strongest. All the-winter wo had talked of* furnishing our front room, until it had got to be a sort of joko botweon us. Any event which wo were anticipating with doubt in tho future, was placed on a level with the gn\it one of our front room furnishing. I was to be married when that was fitted out, Martha wou'd say, which meant that I should live an old maid .all my life. But this afternoon, in particular, as *hd sun shone so bright, and the browses carried a smell of hills upon their invisible we were more than ever in earnest about the litfile bird's nest of a place, which we had w. nted so long. "There's the carpet!'' Martha said crossing hor arms upon ray lap and looking up into my face* "Let me see. how much did you sav that v. ould cost?" "Twenty yards at one and-nine per yard—thirty-five shillings, Martha." "Dear me, what a lot! Then the curtains, plain white ours will do. 11 wo could ouly have lace; but then we can't, so tho plain ones will havo to do." "Then we want a table/' I suggested. "Yes,, but not a mirror. I don't tcafe to see my face any oftener than I *ca« help. Nor does anyone, that I (know of, beside you." The last was spoken a little bitterly. I understood what that meant, be -cause I knew."how much of a woman '\ Martha au~d how, in hr.r true Ine!U't,~sHo, uasvjjframplng all the beautiful romaneo of her young life, not allowing' it the first ray of sun hiny hono to warm itself inja * I took her "face between my hands. and raised it so that the dying light conld fall upon it. What sk sweet, dear face Ft was, with its thoughtful grey eyes, purely oval outline, and pleasant, firm mouth. Pushing back the heavy, dark hair, from her forehead, I said: "I'm sun vou do not mean what ypu say, dear!" "Yes, I do, every word of it, Tessy; and now I think of it, what a rare thing it is in this world to be poor, but intelligent Did you ever have anybody say such a thing to you?" 1 1 shook my head slowly. In the soft twilight I could sen how widely open her eyes were, and how they gleamed and flashed like two , beautiful stars. J'Nover mind that, Martha; let us ifluii about our room. What a dear rplace ft. will be. We have talked of rthe carpet, curtains, and table. What •olse do we N .want?—oh, chairs." She did not answer me, but dropped iher head upon my lap. I thought it would be wise in mo mot to notice it. so I went on talking. "Yes, chairs—not many, because our room is small. Then we want somo pictures. "We will have that little pencil "sketch of yours framed J J ike it so much. "Yeg; and if we could only buy that landscape painting that we saw yestorday. I mean the one where the water goes dashing down from a hillside, with a glimmer of sunlight upon its white bosom, and whereon the mountains lie linked along together, in the background, growing dimmer and mistier in the distance, until it seems as the last was but a olpud from phe soft heart of summer, molting awav the grand arch of blue,' Mr. /Preston thinks it is beautiful." "Yes. and so it is; but it costs a jgreat deal. But the face that we like i-.30 much. That would do!" ,' , "Yea, I suppose so. But I'd like-it abetter if it wasn't so quiet and soft in *j a i ß e - : sP. ressioll - I 'believe, after all, "•"that ,1 .don't hke these passionless traces. tl .don't caro how calm the fea- - '«ures<ore, if trie soul will but pour its -v untense llight out from -the eves.- I don't care that the face should be a perfect ono, either, so that it has a strong, deep look, as though at times t ,^ >ul<l *hxcw out to the en wrapt beholder *he whefle wide, inner life, throbbing itself ouward to tho music of the one great Master hand. No. don't want that face. But vou c an have it, Tessy!" "No, we will find something else to agree upon. I don't care a very groat deal for that How fine it will be, won't it? Then we will have the man- : tel shelf icovored over with littlo ] knick-knacks, and the windows, do vou i.remember?" "Oh, yes; the morning-glory vines *tf# nearly cover them. I liko that Lest of all, because the scent of j '* glowers will bring the murmuring Us ' ® cav - dear! bow can we wiif-* Then, perhaps, we shall have

"Can. vy?" I suggested, seeing that j-he hesit Wed. "\t lea **• h° s * ne fl kould have to bring us' > !<J -' : s^e answered, unconsciously *»« he;ld in »»' lap. , She did not n«eo to say any more. I knew well eViougk who "he" was. "Is vonr he s «t boating very last. Martha?" I aslfed playfully. "I .have an idea rhct it a.Vays makes itself remarkably besy Vhi.o we aro tf king of a certain .«mn«&ody. But l.«*-*« y