Old Valentines / A Love Story

ransformed. Mrs. Farquharson declared

air, which took its place in a corner of the cheery sitting-room and seemed to say-"Come, sit here, and be comfortable," as naturally as though it had been

e creature, who had faded like a flower, leaving a fragrant memory. Phyllis gazed at

amed in dull gold, hung on the walls, their delicate coloring softened by th

marriage, Phyllis had

NCLE P

ll mine, as mine is his. I want you to know I am sorry, even when I am happiest,-and, indeed, Uncle Peter, I am happy,-sorry for the pain my thoughtlessness gave you? sorry for the mischief that was done, unconsciously, because I

t them all in the leather cases, and send them, by Thompson, to Saint Ruth's? And

s lov

YL

tell the news, and announce his unavoidable absence fro

said, as he kisse

re than ever," was her reply to this. "Tell her, please, not to th

ly, to Mrs. Farquharson's

er again touch dust-cloth to my fans and patch-boxes!' And never have I since that day, which is seven years if it's a minute. He dusts them

tion expressed anathema. "I have wondered, did ever it occur to you whether Sir Peter asked that Mrs. Burbage to take the advertisements to the pap

ely below the windows, caused

oman in spectacles. I never set eyes on her before. He's be

wift as light. A glimpse

med. "The boxes are the old Valentines you remembe

urse. She found me quick

he hall. While Thompson carried the boxes up, Phyllis introduced the rivals. They talked for a few moments constrai

show Burbage our pretty rooms. You w

Mrs. Burbage-"Shall I light the gas for you, ma'am

d Burbage. "I can see perfectly. T

Phyllis hurried

ad not spoken her name since she had l

latitude; the directory gave Mrs. Farquharson's address-and here, rather than to

She spoke affectionately of her uncle. "It wil

ed to come oft

nd, in parting, "I warn you of this Mrs. Farquharson

us they were the first of their Lares and Penates; the

evening, as they looked around the rooms. "I love them dearly for themselves-

ohn warmly. "Don't they li

alentines, the rooms were transformed. "I wouldn't know

w, beforehand, that the little book won instant hearing; you know that "Lyrics" quickly followed, and the favorable verdict of the critics w

u must forget that you saw John's portrait in the last "Bookman." Unless you are good at make-believe, it is no fun at all. You must know noth

rooms now. Are you there?

alized that ten satisfying lines is a fair morning's stint; nor that a little book of synonyms is first aid in emergency cases; nor that one may talk as much as one please

one morning, looking

, de

t Phyllis," he

ts slow progress. Phyllis rocked happily. When the pen p

the publishers

l tell me the verses have merit; they all regret th

thread in two.

t count,-I have enough verses for a second, to follow at once, and catch

the publishing trade were beyond her comprehen

oon that I meant to have told you about-only Miss Neville's and Ma

n that blue gown? What was the proposal, John? Any

is one couldn't be accepted under the circumstances They offered to publi

" exclaime

ghing than the one they knew, though. For, really, I am so sure of my

a great sum?" i

n; a small edition. If there were a second, of course,

ly. Suddenly John saw that he

me to think of, yo

s time than it takes to tell it. When her troubl

ave seen them all. I have condescended to the smallest. I have even tried the Populars.

nfluence--" Phyllis began,

'Pull' isn't required; I can say that even when I am at the end of my rope. Books are published honestly, on the

John took up his pen again;

arson tapped at the door, Joh

Phyllis. "I am routed horse and fo

forward; but Mrs. Farquharson would not sit

says, 'Tell the young lady she may like to go up to my rooms some morning when I am not there to bother her,' he says, 'and look at my fans and patch-boxes. They're pretty, too,' says he, 'as pretty as her valentines.' And so they are, my deary dear, an

n replaced the

hat anxious to see your name in gold letters on the cover. Good-night, sir. Good-

their usual good-ni

e Margaret are engaged," said John, r

the low, brass fender,

be called an engagement, but rather a two-year probationary period. She could hardly wait to tel

its deep blue center, was the Honorable Margare

is si

" she said softly. "Ah, John, you d

oked t

Phyllis

written--'With love and sympathy.' When Peggy saw it she shrieked. 'Oh, Phyllis!' she said, 'mother's cousin, Caroline Molesworth, has been at the hospital for a week; day before yesterday she ha

, somehow, while she slept. If she only dared! Oh, no, no! She couldn't ask him. And yet-She fell asleep agai