Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1874-10-02

the kitchen table, but Lottie was no.
where to be found. She was locked in
her chamber. The seal ring had been
tossed Indignantly on the floor, andeltsl
new owner was crying as ii her heart
would break. .-g,.s
Half that long summer afternoon she
staid shut up, too miserable to face any
comment, too hopeless to see any way
out of the trouble she had brought upon
herself; for if she had said "no" to Mr..
Davenport and eyes" to Harry Willard
she would have been happy girl. What
was there to do but face the consequences?
She might unsay the yes, but never the
no; and yet if she were to write to Harry
If she were to tell him she never meant
it! There was still little of his holiday
left-if, indeed, he did not let his anger
hurry him away.
The sunshine of mid-afternoon was
slanting in on the faded carpet and vel.
low wash stand as Lottie hastily bathed
her eyes and pulled writing desk to-
ward her. 1t slanted more and more
from. the west as she sat considering, per-
plexedly biting the end of he pen, writing
and rewriting and tossing aside tiny
cream tinted sheets of paper, until the
table was Uttered with beginnings, and
only one sheet was left in the box. This
she finally took up despairingly, and
wrote the date and the cOmmencement:
MY DEAR Harry don't know how to write
| this to you, and lam very much ashamed to take
| back what said, but never meant to say 1t. !
| had to because Mr.. Davenport was coming, and
| that was his ring had on my finger, and he had
| Just asked me to marry him, and had said yes,
| because you know, he is so rich. and thought
| it would be nice to be lady. / don't know what
made me say yes tor don't love him, and do
| love you. I am so sorry said what | did.
You'll forgive me, won't you, now you kn0w that
- <EE LoTTIE.
AS she sat looking at this rather crude
production of hers difficulty occurred
to her How should she send it? Carry
| it to the Postoffice, and let the Post
mistress, who had known her from
Isbaby, discover that she had written to
Harry Willard? Never. Drop it into
the post-box? No, for the handwriting
would betray her, and the whole town
would hear of it. Could she give it to
Harry herself? No, not thatl Or give it
| to Susan to give him? Worse yet
Thoroughly perplexed and disheartened,
| LOttie fell a prey to her own fears. Ii
Harry had the letter, he might be dis
gusted by her forwardness, Or else too
much displeased to forgive her at ALL
Perhaps it was unlady-like to think of
seuding the letter, and yet, if she did not
send it, Harry would go away.
A miserable half hour of indecision
followed, at the end of which she tossed
all the scattered sheets in heap into her
writing desk, locked it, and then cried
with renewed abandon. A series of
sharp raps on the door and voice by
no means gentle reused her.
"Lottie! [ say, Lottie! For goodness
sake, what are you about? Here it's
after four, and no cake for supper, and
Mr.. Willard going in the six train! Come
right down stairs, and don't let us have
time to spare"
How Lottie ever got into the kitchen,
and in what manner she contrived to be-
gin her cake-making, she never knew.
Harry going at six! She was such a
child that his going away seemed to her
to end everything finally between them.
She should never see him again! Over
and over she said it TO herself as she me-
chanically weighed the flour and the
sugar for sponge-cake, beat her eggs,
and commenced to mix the ingredients.
A great many tears fell into that cake,
and they so blinded her that she did not
see her mother at her elbow, as she was
dropping it into the pans, until sharp
voice startled her:
"Lottie, what has come over you?
You haven't put bit of paper in the
bottom of those pans! 1t would have
burned for certain, and here it is almost
five Hurry! run and get some paper,
quickp'
Lottie, still mechanically, searched the
drawers of the dresser in vain; then,
spurred to action by the sharp voice and
by the sound of the clock striking five,
she rushed upstairs to her own room,
tore off two half sheets of paper from
the pile she had thrust into her desk, ran
down again, and had the cake In the
oven in such miraculously short time
that even her mother was astonished.
"There, now, pick over these berries
and set the table Susan hasn't finished
ironing. And fetch up the butter,
and"
The voice buzzed in Lottie's ears as
she hurried from one thing to another.
At last everything wast,dene and oD the
table. but The cake, and the shrill ringing
of the superb bell admonished Lottie to
hurry UP. with that. Never was cake so
unceremoniously tipped out of the pans
and so roughly cut up. The papers had
burned on, and there was no time to stop
to pull: the fragments off. So Lottie
made thes best of it, and left them on,
dumping the cake-basket down on the
sideboardwith long sigh of relief.
| She did not dare to go in to supper on
account of her swollen eyes, and on ac-
count of Mr.. Davenport, whom she was
afraid to meet. And if Harry was going,
what was the use? She could not let
him 60 unmatched, however; so, running
upstairs, she hastily donned walking
n br1rrioH ont nf tho h1pIK-d0nr
toward the village. From the Postofice
she would he sure to see him pass, and
| it "would be some comfort just to do
that" thought poor Lottie, trying to
swallow the hump in her throat as she
hastened along.
Once in the Postoffice, she dawdled
aimlessly about the counters, asking for
this and that,a land keeping her broad hat
pulled low over her face lest the marks
of tears should be seen. She waited
long time, watching the street, but Harry
did not pass. The clock pointed to five
minutes of sh-perhaps he would be
late for the train. At any rate, he had
not passed, and there was no other road
to the station. :
One minute of six Surely the clock
must be wrong. No. for the whistle OF
the train sounded with it's first stroke and
Harry had not gone by. He had been
late, then. Lottie turned toward home in
hurry. If she should see him
She did not finish that sentence, for she
| had no idea now seeing him would help
| the matter; stiHshe felt more cheerful
as she fastened along the sunny road.
She had almost feached home when she
saw the object of her thoughts coming
toward her at a round pace. There was
no valise in his hand, and he still wore