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Show jointly by the Colonel's wife and the social leader of tie little city, Mrs. Despard; and Miss Despard had In her "set" a bete nolr the daughter of a physician. "And the doctor's daughter was not invited. Why? asked the little garrison town. Then It raised Its eyebrows and smiled. Miss Despard was handsome In her Junoesque, commanding com-manding way. But the gentle daughter daugh-ter of hard-working Dr. Harvls had a winsome beauty all her own, and a soft and sweet graciousness that all the Despard jewels could not outshine. "So the fair Despard left you out, my daughter, O my daughter?" laughed the doctor that night as he "I hardly think your condition hopelessly hope-lessly pitiable!" she said, laughing a little. "1 thought you were going to the cotillon?" Mr. Huntleigh drew back the curtains cur-tains and glanced at the garrison lights. Then he walked over to her chair and, drawing an ottoman near,, he sat down and gently drew her two hands into his. "I was going to see you," he said with grave earnestness. "Then I learn-1 ed from the doctor that you were to be home. And I came here. I think you know why. Will you give yourself to me, dear? I am lonely and I want you so." . The doctor came In after a little and 1 suggested that he had nutmegs and lemons and the kettle was boiling, and , If Harry could think of something else he might fix up something. And when his daughter kissed him with sudden and grave intensity and ran away to get the something needful, he turned to Huntleigh, who wrung both his hands hard and promised he would only take her east three months of the year. Then the doctor's rugged face lighted light-ed up. And when Harry came back, and was gathered promptly into Hunt-leigh's Hunt-leigh's arms, the doctor glanced out at the garrison lights and with great care and solemnity closed one. eye. "I was oing, to see you." stamped into the house and nodded toward the window, where the garrison garri-son lights could be seen all flickering near the foothills. "Cut dead, dad, dear!" smiled his daughter. "And I would have enjoyed it so!" '.'See what it is to inherit your father's fatal beauty, my dear!" said the grizzled physician solemnly, pinching pinch-ing her rosy ear. "You see, even the dazzling Despard fears you when the new lion roars. And this is the night that Huntleigh is to be undone." "You brazenly vain man!" replied Miss Harvis. She bent low over the little kettle that was bubbling fussily over the alcohol al-cohol flame, and something glittered in the light of the fire something that A Cinderilla of the Foothills. By E. L. Huston. (Copyright, 1901, by Daily Story Pub. Co.) The cotillion tp.be given at the barracks bar-racks had wakeaed up the little garrison gar-rison town as had nothing else that season. In the first place, the barracks affairs were always successes; there were always plenty of dancing men to go around, and the floor of the drill shed was the best for dancing in the city. And there was so little in the way of excitement in those far western west-ern towns that knew nothing of parks and lakes and little jaunts into the country. There were irrigating ditches instead of lakes and a few irrigation-raised irrigation-raised trees instead of parks, and no country, but wide stretches of alkali dust and sage brush and cacti. It was a "howling wilderness," the eastern-raised eastern-raised brides wrote home In dismay, and only in the garrison towns was life worth living. But the jolly little Arab families, who lived their brief season in "officers' "offi-cers' row," quite ready to pack and obey marching orders at a moment's notice, gave the disconsolate brides their philosophy and brightened the passing hour as best they could. So the cotillion was announced by the hospitable military folk, and delightful de-lightful was the excitement in conse- trembled a moment on the dark eyelashes, eye-lashes, then was swept hastily away as she turned smilingly to the doctor. "Tea or toddy, dad? Get into your slippers and smoking jacket, and be comfy. I am starved." She did not eat much, however, though she broke up some muff ns and cakes on her plate and built forts with the crumbs. But her father seemed serenely indifflerent to her lack of appetite, and enjoyed his supper with absolute content. "Some more preserves, Harriet. I tell you, those silver Idaho prunes are all right. And I'll take another muffin, muf-fin, my dear. Saw Huntleigh in the Overland to-day. Fine fellow." "Yes." Miss Harvis hastily buttered a piece of muffin, then absently propped it in one corner of the crumb fortification. Then she prodded it with a toothpick. "Says he expects to go east in a few weeks." "Yes?" Miss Harvis did not seem in a conversational con-versational mood. The doctor glanced at her from under his bushy eyebrows and reached for another muffin. His daughter was laboriously planting flag-staffs, made of toothpicks, around the crumb fort. "Yes," assented the doctor briskly. "Have an idea he is thinking of marrying. mar-rying. Something he said led me to infer that he was. Lucky woman, whoever gets him. He's pretty clean cut. all told." "Yes." Miss Harvis was certainly not loquacious. lo-quacious. ' Dr. Harvis stared thoughtfully at the glowing logs in the fireplace a moment, mo-ment, then meekly asked for another cup of tea." The tea was poured out in profound silence, and was sugared four times. The doctor did not take any sugar at all in his tea, but he made no protest, and swallowed the mixture heroically, only making a slight grimace as it went down. "There the gate clicked," he remarked re-marked presently. "Oh, dad someone after you. And I did want you home with us to-night. It seems so so " Harriet had risen to her feet, with a look of dismay on her fair face. A firm step sounded on' the porch, and the knocker rat-a-tat-tated gently. "Cut dead, dad, dear." quence. But in affairs of society and state, he the matter great or small, creep the undercurrents of human interests, in-terests, and in the atmosphere of pleasurable excitement floated the inevitable, in-evitable, conflicting incense of keen anticipation and miasmic vapor of bitterness bit-terness and envy. For at the cotillon the new social lion, Roger Huntleigh, the eastern speculator, was expected to be present, and debutantes and dowagers regarded him with special and most favorable interest. Then, the cotillon was to be given The doctor paused with on foot In a slipper, then smiled and settled himself him-self in his favorite chair with the last Lancet. A rich, rather lazy voice was following his daughter into the little parlor across the hall. "Sincerely hope I'm not intruding. Miss Harriet. A man is such a lonely beggar in a hotel, and I thought you might take pity on me!" His hostess' dark eyes were shining shin-ing with wonderment and undeniably undeni-ably pleasure, as they rested on his strong face and six foot one of hearty manhood. Then she smiled. |