She hesitated, but replied: “ Well, if you care to call on me
sometime when you are in Madison I should be very pleased to
see you.”
If Sercombe was surprised at this statement, he was still more
surpised at her next:
“ My papa is very strict with me, and doesn’t allow me to re
ceive gentlemen friends, but mamma doesn’t care, if they are
nice. So you had better write me when you will be in Madison,
and I will let you know whether you can come to see me or not.
Papa is away a great deal. ’ ’
Sercombe was immensely pleased with his success, and he as
sured her that she would certainly see him again.
By this time the train had pulled into Stanmouth. Dropping a
piece of silver into the porter’s hand with a direction to see that
the lady had the best of attention, he bade Miss Nellie Weldon
good bye and stepped off the car, with a light heart, turning to
wave at her as the train moved out, and then he lost himself in
the crowd which always gathers to meet each incoming train dur
ing these first days.
That night at the Frat house, when Sercombe had finished his
part of the vacation experiences program, half the fellows de
manded : “ Who was that pretty girl on the train this morning?”
Although he had been willing to tell all about the other girls he
had met, somehow Sercombe didn’t want to answer this question,
and put them off by saying : “Oh, she’s a cousin of mine going
to Philadelphia.” But when alone with his particular friend, Tom
Pearson, he told the whole story.
“ I tell you, Tom, I’m hard hit. I was with her only an hour,
but it is not the last hour. I’ve met all the beauties of Bar Harbor,
of Atlantic City, of Coronado, and a dozen other resorts all over
the country, and I tell you mighty few of them can hold a candle
to Nellie Weldon. But the best part of her is her character.
These belles all have something superficial about them. They
have a smile for you only when you are the handsomest man, the
richest man, or the best dancer. They are all right for the sum
mer season, but I tell you Nellie Weldon is the girl for all the
year ’round. By Jove, Tom, isn’t it worth more to be able to
read the human face than it is to be able to read Greek, and San
scrit, and Hebrew? I tell you, Tom, a fellow is a fool to burn his
eyes out earning his A. 8., and then not be able to size up a man
when he sees him, or a woman either.”
The Free Lance,
[November,