Poppea of the Post-Office

nd of it, and the spring called the blood

y necessary. A strong tie of kinship threaded the whole community. The stately residents of Quality Hill and Westboro Road were often second and third cousins of the owners of the lonely hill farms, of the blacksmith at the cross-roads, or the joiner and carpen

nistered in regular doses through the letters that Miss Emmy Felton wrote weekly to pretty little Mrs. Latimer, the Episcopal minister's wife, who had a love of life beyond the radius of eight hundred a year,

efore, he had been a builder of barriers, not only between himself and those he thought beneath him, but he hedged himself with ceremony in his own household, his own inflexible will being his universal measure, and every act being in accord with a fixed plan. If, in his dislikes, he was

g to remodel his place for the reception of his bride in June; while following on the heels of this report, house-painters, paperers, masons, and a landscape-gardener came to confirm it. So it fell out that, for a time, the lady baby, who remained unclaimed a

Society vowing, as they rolled bandages and scraped lint, that a man of Gilbert's age was no fit guardian for a female child, especially as Satira Pegrim

, Congregational, and Methodist, had all made friendly calls at the post-office house and asked, according to their different methods, whether Gilbert recognized the responsibility he was contemplating. Meanwhile, in the thick of the discussion, the Misses Felton and Mr. Esterbrook arrived. Not all together, it is true, for Miss Emmy, being a trifle delicate and disliking the mixed air, crowds, and jo

ast Twenty-sixth Street, a little above the Feltons' house on Madison Square, through Fourth Avenue until, the press of traffic left behind, the cars were united and an engine attached. Still, journey as they might, the family group that parted after

The Felton ladies were Bostonians by birth and education, their father having been a prominent judge. Failing of sons, he had, after being some years a widower, virtually adopted and educated a cousin's son to be his confidential secretary, and afterwa

rangers sometimes remarked upon the peculiarity of the household arrangements, where William Esterbrook, in a house not his own, filled the old-world position of guardian over attractive and marriageable wards. The family friends, however, saw nothing mo

to dance in their great rooms, or sit out the dances on stairs or in the trim conservatory. For, motherless and young as they had been at the time of their father's death, they realized the true social and moral responsibility of their wealth. Miss Felton was independent, I had almost said masculine, of action; without being brusque, she was direct and to the point, comprehended

n a netted "waterfall" at the back of her head, or let loose in a shower of ringlets as the whim of the moment required. She loved everything dainty, in people as well as in clothes; her skirts rippled with ribbons and lace as she trailed slowly along, her sunshades were of the daintiest, and her flowery hats bits of art that

n of thirty-two for her cavalier quite as a matter of course, and alternately bullied him and turned to him in every strait. Once only he had come face to face with his manhood and resolved to make the plunge and propose to Emmy, but

iscovered their real selves, for absence is often quite necessary to give th

ebuffed and turned back by something wrong with his heart action that his physician discovered at the last moment. Consequently, at fifty odd, William Esterbrook, whom Miss Emmy called Willy, and Miss Felton, cous

own apartments, takes his ease because there is nothing to goad him to do otherwise; but for Esterbrook, he was still l

as as refined as it was fanciful. After all, it was the hat that was the most distinguishing characteristic of his apparel. This was of the softest beaver, brushed until it shone like silk; the crown of moderate height was belled out at the top and the brim curled well at the sides. In the crown of this he invariably carried his right-hand glove, the left being alw

ad that ran from Quality Hill down to Westboro. Many heads looked out of windows and nodded, and not a few hands wer

and his preposterous idea of keeping her?" asked the farrier's wife,

rich as folks said? Able to wind him, who had never before bent head or knees, arou

st air. "John Angus and myself are nearly of

and then I'm sure no one ever thinks how old you are; yo

he fringe of her silk mantilla. Then they proceeded along the street, Miss Emmy's full skirt of gray chiné silk, with its bordered flounces of pink roses, rustling as it swung about

that dear Miss Felton would come and say something to the ladies about the necessity of rolling the bandages straight, as Dr. Morewood had

t down a cuckoo clock that he was tinkering with and came forward quite spryly to meet his visitors

e village is agog. That is, I have; Mr. Esterbrook would probably rather stay here and talk wit

nds backward; at any rate, it will be the better for a visit with you." Then turning to Mr. Esterbrook, who was trying

lting tap of Gilbert's footsteps behind her. "I do not need to take you from the off

I want to know what

I mean, haven't you de

mind; I had to, for she's t

saw Miss Emmy go into the post-office, opened the door. By her side, standing str

oom, stood her upon the table so that their faces were upon a level, all oblivious of the fact that her mantilla had slipped from

g girl some day, twenty years hence, to buy pretty clothes for, after I grow too wrinkled and gray to wear pink and corn color, but I never before realized what a dear a lady baby could be.

d like bunches of grapes, seeming to regard her as a new and improved species of do

stand. As for her being adopted by you or any one else, that's not to be. She was not left on Quality Hill; no lights were there that stormy night; there were

d apologetically; then stopped, checked by the expre

in my arms, her little fingers clasped around my neck, so I know, and time out of mind it's com

, and in seeking to cut it short, jerked out a sentence quite as irrelevant as those two that have

ir until one died and the other one grew moody and bit Willy-I mean Mr. Es

es in the garden down beyond the apple trees, making ready to sow early radishes and lettuce, I climbed up the bank to Angus's boundary to take a look, and if the old fence wasn't gone! Half a dozen me

en stuff that was just tossed out for filling. He says, 'There's going to be a fine brick parrotpet instead of the fence, 'cause this here's to be a rose garden, a

ports that John Angus is anxious to please his bride and let her carry out her tastes, for she has a

anged to a smile, as the lady baby, tiring of her fingering inspection of Miss Emmy's ribbons, crawled to his knee with the sidewheel motion she used wh

race of annoyance at his rebuff remaining in her manner or voice. "Who is going to do it, and will it be here or at one of the

teful for a few posies to trick out the foreroom. I reckoned to get a new pa

Congregationalist, and your wife was certainly the daughter

belonging to one of the sects in town and me to another, it seems fair to divide 'round and give this child whatever benefit there is in the third. Then, too,

a well-feigned accent, "for his housekeeper told that last winter, when the cook asked higher wages, he c

cing bear came past and I had him in to play, she'd a crept off after him in a twinkling w

I told him Marygold was named in the foreroom, then he said he'd come up. I'm not asking a company,-Satira couldn't see her way to mana

king to and fro under the maples that lined the walk opposite the post-office,

re are some war bonds, 5-20's and 6-20's, going on the market that I think we should

flushed, but that it wore a wholly new expression, while the strings of her bonnet, that had been tied with a graceful precision, hung loose and bore the unmistakable print of moist fingers. Her fa

Has the child been temperish and vexed you,

ils shone like prisoned sunbeams on the lawn and single white violets, short stemmed and fragrant, huddled timidly about the roots of leafless rose-bushes in the long borders. "What has happened is that in this la

and emotional disposition, but with that gesture, suggestive of the b

ways been the same to you? Do I not always study your interests?

for long; since then, as you say, you've been

to go away far enough to see if you would miss me and

I wish

"Is it too late? Am I too old

an you. Besides you could not stand the shock of telling Elizabet

lton and Mr. Esterbrook should disintegrate! How we should be missed, we nice safe people! Ah, no, Willy, don't look so serious; it's only some left-over

nd please, Willy, ask Wheeler to make me a nice little bouquet of roses with lace paper around it by three o'cl

int when Esterbrook next glanced at his companion, but in those few minutes he too had loo