The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1876-02-04

written sheet, and the first that made love
to her was likely to win it. Vague longings
for that peculiar tenderness which only a
lover can offer already possessed her soul and
she was just the sort of little woman to for
| get her own advantages, and feel very CRATE
full for love and admiration. The doctor was
tall and fine looking, and she caught her.
self blushing as she looked into the glass af-
ter his departure and thought what soft look
had come into his eyes as he "hoped they
should meet together again" ...
| Meanwhile Marcus Moreland had been
thinking about her more than she guessed,
and that evening there was another intro
duction. Marcus did not make big eyes at
her, nor try to show his superiority to his
neighbors, neither had he any gold watch to
consult. He was younger than the doctor
by ten years, and very much of boy STILL
and the rising moon found May, and her
little cousin Tom and Marcus all sitting
together on the lower step of the porch,
talking of blackberying, as three children
might.
The heress wore linen dress and knot
OF blue ribbon in her hair. Marcus forgot
she was an heiress. 1t was only dear little
girl, just the incest creature he ever met, who
looked at him frankly with her blue eyes
real blue eyes, not blue gray. He went
home in the first stages Of love, and sat at
the window looking at the moon, and think
| ing of her nearly all the night.
May had never had anything like beau
in her life. Shut up with an invalid uncle
in great city home that was like prison
seeing no one but the doctor and nurse and
now and then some old gentleman, whom
her uncle was persuaded to admit on the
score of old friendship-she had no idea that
she might be belle. Life was all new to
her. Even her cousin was new found
relative, who had taken to her when the
friends gathered at the old mans funeral.
People who had never remembered little
May until the news of her heiressship
brought her to notice, had been so very kind
since.
Marcus did not make love--he did not
dare-but looked it. The doctor made love
scientifically; he had pumped the farmer,
who believed that the young lady's fortune
was something more than common" He
had even extracted from the married cousin
statement that "Uncle had left everything
to May"
he had three months to work in be-
fore the heiress knew her own powers, and
learned from one gray winter that lovers fol-
low money thick aud fast, and he was a
determined sort of fellow where there was
anything to gain.
Marcus had no plans. His boys heart
ran away with him that was all. He could
not keep away from Mays side, nor forget
her when they were apart aud so summer
passed and autumn approached, and the
city folks were going home, and the district
school was to be opened, and cousin Helen's
husband, harddriven Wall street man,
came down to spend week before he took
his family home and all this delightful time
was at an end.
Marcus was to be examined for his posi-
tion as teacher of the school-a mere form
with his fine education.
The doctor, as learned gentleman, was
one of committee to examine the coming
school na'am for the girls department.
May heard a good deal of the school,
especially as farmer Parsons was another of
the committee, and she felt an interest in it
too, as Marcus was to teach. 1t seemed so
odd to think of.
Cousin Helen's husband went about as
men generally do, and heard more in day
than the ladies could in year. lie returned
one evening with a solemn face, and in
formed his wife in confidence, that the talk
of the whole place was Mays fortune, and
that the doctor, who had done nothing but
run after rich women since he came to the
place, was said to be "after it."
"a regular .fortune-hunter, my DEAR" said
the husband. "You must use your influence
with poor May"
May, meanwhile, had been in her favorite
grove, and there had Marcus Moreland be-
taken himself to say goodbye, Poor boy,
he had had some bitter hours of late. The
truth of Mary's love was the one thing worth
having upon earth, and dawned upon him,
and with it the knowledge that he had no
right to offer himself to an heiress. How
he hated the money. 1t stood between them
like an awful spell, If she had been the
poorest girl living, he could have said all
that was in his heart to her-not now.
So the poor boy uttered few faltering
words and went his way.
SIT was folly for me to think he liked me
much," said May, as he left her. GLOW for
nal and cold he is after all our sociability,"
and little pang nipped her heart and she
smiled more brightly on the doctor when he
also entered the grove than she had ever
smiled before.
He made true love to her that afternoon
after true story-book fashion. On the stage
ats he would have caused tender-hcarted
ladies to say chow sweet" 1t was pretty
little scene rehearsed in private. Had MAY
but known it the night before and no girl
could have failed to understand his parting
words.
Tomorrow before you leave, | must see
you. You will grant me private interview,
will you not? l have something of intense
Importance to myself, at least, to say to you.
You will let me see you in the garden u
i" talter, a look, Il snatch at her hand,
the touch OF, his lips upon it.
Then the curtain should have dropped, he
rode away in his gig and said to himself
81 always was lucky fellow--to think
that Providence should have sent an
heiress to such place at this, pretty one,
too w
When May entered the house surprise
awaited her. Cousin Helen took her at
once to her bedroom, and there, behind
closed doors, repeated her husbands inior-
nation, .- ....