Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 100, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 April 1912 — HIS DIPLOMACY [ARTICLE]

HIS DIPLOMACY

When Mrs. Hardiman received her sister’s letter telling her all about Kahleen’s unfortunate affair, her matchmaking Instincts were up In arms. Of course, as Constance had said, Kathleen was a mere child In years, only 17. But girls of 17 sometimes developed very grown-up feelings! She did not answer her sister’s letter at once; to her thinking, hasty judgment was one of the cardinal sins. And she waited to think matters over thoroughly before committing herself. Pine Orove, Fla., May 17.' “My Dear Constance: “Why not let mg have Kathleen for a couple of months? The country is simply magnificent this time of the year, and, although, naturally, It will be rather lonely compared to gay Neir Orleans, still the contrast may do wonders toward bringing the dear girl out of herself. I don’t believe anyone could brood in a garden spot like this. “By the way, an old friend of mine is coming down from Chicago to spend the summer with me. Her son, g splendid young fellow of 25, is to meet her here for a week’s visit. They are extremely exclusive people, and, although not at all wealthy, will doubtless shortly inherit a considerable fortune from the boy’s god-father, I think it is. He Is a cranky old fellow (80-odd), who refuses to settle a penny on his protege until he marries and softies down. “Mind yon, not a word of this to Kathleen. “Let me hear from yon. As ever. “Pat.”

Three days later Mrs. Hardlman held her sister's reply la her hand. Kathleen would be delighted to come. It was the very thing of all others. Six or eight weeks among the Florida pines would certainly be the salvation of her. It was an afternoon of June, pale and sweet with orange blossoms. Rows upon rows of the waxen-leaved trees made a garden grove down below the rose lawn. Mrs. Hardlman came out on the terrace and flourished a slip of yellow paper in her hand. Old Mrs. Ogden, seated on a twisted oak chair, looked up with a questioning smile. “My niece will be here on the 6:20 train,” the other announced, sinking down opposite, “and that horrid old Billy is laid up again with his everlasting 'rheumatix.' Do you think Olaud will be here in time to —” Mrs. Hardlman stole a narrow glance into .the brown, Btrong face, with its keen, expressive eyes and firm but smiling mouth. Surely Claude Odgen was a man worth noticing. “My niece is arriving on that 6:20 train, Mr. Ogden. Do you think you could manage the bays this afternoon?’’ “Oh, yes,” he said. “I think I can manage them fairly well.’’ He pulled out his watch. I’ve just an hour to make it,” he said; "I suppose I'd better be getting but of this toggery.” The train was as usual, late-. The pasengers stepped out on the platform l There were two or three drummers, an old lady in black and finally- -_j._ Surely there was something oddly familiar about the cut of Ifhe brown tailor-made gown, the gracefully draped veil that cascaded about her, dainty shoulders, the military carriage of the slendef young figure. “Claude!” "Kathleen!” He hurried her on to the trap, and in a minute they were whirling oil through clouds of dust. “But I thought you were on board the Silver Star, en route to Australia!” she exclaimed when she found breath to speak. “That was all bosh, Kathleen. I never had any intention of putting the ocean between us.' After the way we were broken up I thought I’d just hang around until you were of age.” “Poor mamma! She firmly believes that Bhe knoWB my own min'd better than I do myself. - “And suppose I were to tell you that I was about to becoine very wealthy? “It would ’ make no ' difference whatever in my—” v Somewhat to the girl’s surprise he deliberately turned the hoi fees’ heads and drove back the other way. “Claude! You’re going wrong. “No, lam not. Providence hid a great big hand in dumping us down here together -like this. And we haven’t any fight to fly in the face of Providence, you I was told that long ago, when I was a mere kM.” “What is this funny little place?” “It's the county courthouse. Hold the reins a second. I’ve got to get out” Soon he returned 1 , slipped a bit of folded' paper into his pocket as he climbed into the trap. “I think Mr. Holcomb live* in that little green house over there,” he said peiatißg with hir whip ae the horses trotted off. “But when are we going home? Aunt Pat Will be—” , “Just as soon ns the preacher gets throagh with da. Don't you think Pins Grove will be an ideal spot to gpoart oar honeymoon In?” “Don't you?" he reiterated, bendtag down. Their eyes met. Tifoftsnn thought, perhaps, tt ■■st ww o»nr «a»» J