The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1879-02-27
I walked over the fence to meet

word. 1 walked over the fence to meet
Fairfax. p.
Ralph, my boy, you look very glum!
How delicious those peaches are," he
added, feasting an another.
Should tell him Lars secret, and
beg him to show the wretched girl less
kindness for the futureP
Whether wisely or not, spoke.
Fairfax, have been talking to that
poor girl Lal. She's nearly grown up
now, and l want her to 60 out to serv-
ice."
"whew! my prize pupilr' cried Clint.
patriarch, and what will Miss Mahaffy
say to your kind proposalP"
"Well, really, Clint, it's too absurd.
And yet it's a pity for the poor little
soul, too. The fact is she has such a
profound alteration for you that moth
ing will induce her to consent to it."
Clint looked amazed and then an
noyed:
of my philanthropic effortsP" he cried
at last. "You don't really mean,
Ralph. that she won't go because-be-
cause Upon my word, it's too pre-
posterous. Well. Ralph" he went on,
pettishly, after a pause, during which
lit my pipe and tried to look more
comfortable than felt, "what's a fell
low to do nowP Poor Lal! she had
tried so awfully hard to learn and get
on. Perhaps you misunderstood her."
shook my head.
| "I don't pretend to understand these
things, Clint, but it is a very real thing
with her. How would it be for you to go
on that visit to the Vernons you are
always intending to payp Stay a week
or two, and I'll undertake to talk to
Lal, and make her take place at Dor
want dairy hand"
So Clint agreed, and, as the boat was
going across next day for stores. we
had no time to discuss and unsettle the
matter. Lal, of course, saw the boat
start, for she and her brothers were al
:. ways moving before any one else on the
run; and Clint waved his hand to her,
and called out in his CHEEKY way:
"Good-by, young 'uns! Stick to your
books, and I'll bring over some jolly
new ones when 1 come back" Ted
halloed out, "Good-byr' and no one
but noticed that Lal said nothing, but
gazed with straining eyes after the boat
till it had disappeared round the point,
and the level rays of sunlight turned
the gray sea to gold.
For my own part, turned in to
breakfast with a weight off my mind,
for Lal certainly was pretty girl, and,
though believed Clint to be an honest
young fellow enough, but still there is
something pleasant in being worshiped
by the only girl about the station. So,
altogether, l was glad to get Fairfax
safely off on a visit to q neighboring
station where knew the dashing Miss
Veruons would soon give his thoughts
new direction.
Some weeks went by, very busy
weeks, and had begun to get used to
being alone again, when L received q
message from Clint that the next time
the whale-boat went over to Nelson he
would return by her, as letter from his
father had recalled him to England
sooner than he had expected.
All the time of his absence l had
seen little of Lal. She had given up
coming to the station, always sending
Ted instead; and l had really almost
forgotten our scene in the veranda-
The day after got Clint's message,
however, l chanced to meet her as
rode home over the mud-fat. 1t hai
been a dull, foggy day, but as evening
closed in the wind began to rise fitfully
make little sudden stir and moan anG
then die away into an ominous silence
As hurried Sprightly along 1 over
took Lal, walking home slowly under .
load of pipis she had been collecting
for supper off the rocks. At first sh,
| ,<A sv,n ncA fO Lot fhsNr
recognition, but when drew up, mean
ing to warn her of the coming storm
, she ran to my side and laid her hant
on my bride.
Isn't he never coming here no more
, Mr.. Westcott?" she asked, in such
! despairing tone could not find it in m
heart to scold her.
/ "Why, Lal," / cried, chow i'll yo
look! What have you done to you
cheeks and eyesp"
She shook her head impatiently, an
: repeated her question: SIS he neve
, coming homeP'
"Well-yes, child. He's coming to
morrow; but only to say good-by. II
/ will be off to England, and to all hi
, friends there soon"
, She scarcely seemed to hear the en-
} of my speech.
1 "To-morrowp' she said, crouchip
: down in a heap upon the seaweed
, strewed sands, and rocking herself
, and fro. "Shan see him tomorrow
: "Lalr' 1 cried, impatiently. Sh
! sprang to her feet.
80. Mr.. Westcott, don't scold me
: Look here" and she pulled up he
r sleeve to show me her arm, wasted an
shrunken. Pm dying, think" sh
went on hoarsly. "1 can't eat or sleer
t nor do half the work I used to. II
starving for sight of his face; an
what harm can it do him for me to b
9 happy just one daye"
o Poor Lal! was not a particular
e soft-hearted chap, but the sight of he
distress gave me q queer feeling in tn
throat, and rode on without speaking
e The night set in as I expected, wit
!; sharp storms of wind and rain. and b
e the time had got home and done SUI
!, per there was high sea running.
"The boat'll never start tomorrow
1 Tom," remarked, as, for company
Q sake, turned into the kitchen for
smoke.
Tom looked doubtful. "Pd feel mol
s sure O. that. sir, if old Peter had gon
U in her. He's a safe hand and a'mo
l overcareful; but young Peter is ras
e and won't wait for weather."
r Don't croak, Tom," retorte,
"besides, the weather may mend b
}, fore midnight, when they'd be startin,
d and then Mr.. Clint will be there, an
y he's sure to wait if there's any danger.
P But as Tom still shook his head ar
l persisted in calling to mind all the shi]
wrecks he had ever been in, gave i
l. the argument and went to bed, tellir
him to call me at six O. clock, if WASH
1 stirring before.
% 1t seemed to me that had only ju
dropped asleep, when his voice at n
q side awoke me next morning. IN
y Westcott, sir, it's six o'clock, and 9