Fassifern School - Sapphire Yearbook (Hendersonville, NC)

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I The Hermit Q QQ ARV', old fellow, sit was mighty nice of you to bring me 'round, and for Jove's sake x D5 don't tell the boys where l am. Remember that l am celebrating Christmas my own no Q0 way and l'd rather not be botheredg mail will go to my box at the club and l'm QF Q not going to even open it. Good-bye! '-J 'YQ As he stood on the steps of an apartment, one of a great many exactly alike, all fronting the street and all having a small flight of steps leading to a heavy oaken door, he watched a tall fellow disappear around the corner. Then he turned to the door behind him. Opening the door of the living room he saw his man Morris arranging the big chair in a comfortable way before the tire. 'ilt's home now, Morris, we'll just live here until we get tired of' it, it and being hermits. lt's a nice place, I'll say. Who are our neighbors? The Colburns on the right, sir, and a lady named Chatham on the left. Old maid, eh ? No, sir, not to say an old maid. She is very pretty and considerable young. Young and pretty, you say? That is just what l am trying to run away from, well, she-'ll never see me, anyway! She is very sociable, sir. Says she is coming to call. The devil she is! Tell her l am crazy, blind or something, anything to keep her away, do you hear, Morris? called Adams from the next room. So the housekeeping began. Richard Adams, aged twenty-seven, heir to several millions, and leader of society, had grown tired of festivity and run away for the holidays. Only his chum, Harvey Milton, knew of his whereabouts, and Morris had arranged the apartment. The next morning when Adams awoke he heard Morris' voice on the steps. He is not up yet, Miss. Not up yet? Gracious, he is lazy! That voice! It was deep, not low, but a delightful contralto with a note of happiness in it. Morris, may I call today? Ah-no, Miss Chatham, he has given orders that he will see no oneg he is not well, ma'am. Oh, l am very sorry that he is not well, Christmas is coming, too. Get him well by Christmas, Morris! Dick laughed. Good old Morris! but that girl's voice! That must be Miss Chatham on the right. These persistent old gossips! She wanted to see him so she could gossip about him. But he could not imagine that voice gossiping about anyone. Well, he must forget neighbors, this was his vacation. The papers had come and he spent the morning reading them. Claire Pellers was giving a ball, his name was among those invited, most likely his invitation was in his box. Masters was staging' a pageant, a note about that was in his box also, and perhaps a bid to Carrollton's stag dinner. Dick smiled, no evening clothes for a month, no flowers to send, no silly girls' talk to listen to-peace for a month! The door-bell rang. Silently Morris opened the door. Adams caught a glimpse of a red tam, a wisp of brown hair, and the voice said: Hang this up, Morris, Christmas is coming and your windows look like it was November! When Morris showed him the wreath he frowned. Yes, hang it up, but l was trying to forget Christmas ! U When Morris left for the market his reading was continuously interrupted by zealous salesmen of holly, mistletoe, and cedar, until finally he stopped answering the door at all. Page forty-seven