The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1879-10-16


,ourting."
II don't believe it. You ought to be
IF yourself;" and she rushed
away to hide the gathering tears and
frightened face.
She wrote to him, asking him to meet
her that night; but he replied with an
excuse that made her heart sick. He
would meet her tomorrow Saturday af-
ternoon in Kensington Gardens if she
liked, he said and for the first time and
for his sake, she consented, and was false
to her charge of Frankly.
"You run about, Master Frankly, DEAR"
she said, II want to talk to friend of
don't go out Of sight;'' and
then in her bewilderment she forgot all
ABOUT him. Alfred Hill looked rather
bored than otherwise, but he was smiling
and shiny as ever. She hardly greeted
him when he appeared, but she looked at
him with all the admiration she had ever
felt for him intensified by ner tear. He
sat down beside her, and elegantly cross
ing his legs, began tapping his highly
polished boots with his bone headed
cane.
"Altred," she said, crossing her hands
and looking at him straight in the face;
lis it true that you are going to get mar
ried directly?'
"Who's told you so2''
":t isn't any account who told; is it
true as you are going to marry Miss
Brooks because she plays on the piano,
and has money, and The tears came
into her eyes, and her lips quivcred with
anguish. ooh, it isn't true! know it
isn't!' and she touched his hand in her
dismay, and looked up into his face with
her hearts story written in her eyes.
Il don't see why it shouldn't he, and
SO there's the long and short Of it. It's
no use making fuss about it, my dear
girl"
''But it isn't? it 1sn't?' she said, ap
pealingly.
"Well, yes, it is true" he said slowly,
not daring to look her in the face; so
you may as we'll know it at once,
She stood up before him. "True!
Do you mean to say, Alfred, after all
that's passed between us, as you are 60
ing to marry some one else?''
~ really don't know what you mean
by what has passed between u.s. You
really couldn't think was going to mar
~ yow"
why couldn't II"
well, I don't wish to hurt your feel.
ings, but consider the difference in our
positions. One walks out with pretty
servant girl, but one doesn't marry
her."
"You are not a gentleman, as you
slowly. "You are dressed like one, but
you are just bit of clerk, rot any bet
ter than respectable girl like me, you
are not gentleman. A gentleman
doesn't try to take girls good name
and win her heart as you have done.'
Mary often wondered she fought her bat
tie as she did, but she seemed to have no
feeling then, only to realize that which
was to come hereafter.
"I'm very sorry that you let yourself
fall in love me-" he said, tapping his
boot again. II thought you would have
had more pride, at any rate till you were
asked"
"More pride!' What do you take me
for?'' she asked, her cheeks flushing.
"Do you think I'd go out with one, and
talk to him, and let him talk to me as
you've done, if I hadn't cared for him?''
I've too much pride for that, and I
shouldn't be fit company for any honest
man if hadn't. And you know as I've
liked you, for you made me say it, and
you know it; but it isn't you as like,
but the man took you tor, and ne ism I
here at ALL"
"Well, I'm sorry you are disappointed
in the hope of lettering yourself by mar
rying above you, and / think, after all
you've SAID, we'd better part
"The sooner the better;' and she let
him go, and then she sat down and al
most sobbed her poor foolish heart out,
and spent the bitterest hour Of her life
beneath the shadow Of the trees from
which the leaves were falling.
Suddenly she looked up for Frankly
he was nowhere to be seen. She called al
the top of her voice; no answer came
With a fear that deadened all other feel
ing she ran to and tro in a wild cndeav-
or to find him. An hour passed in fruit.
less search; and then pale with fear, and
trembling IN every limb, she went home
to relate her terrible news. Just as she
got to the door, she saw through the
gathering shadows Tom Dawlisll, and in
his arms little figure, which her heart
told her was master Frankly.
II met this young gentleman rs he
was running away to be a sailor, and
luckily brought him back"
"Running away! Why, how were you
going to the sea!''
II was going to walk there" said
Franxy, stoutly.
"You would have killed your poo1
mama"
"Mamma," asked Frankly Poole the
next day, "would it kill you if rar
away to sea?'
eyes. dear, I think it would"
ooh! we'll, then," he answered, patro
nizingly, II won't"
1t was spring time again when Ten
Dawlish asked Mary question once
more He had good situation, and 8
prospect of a rise; and he'd always beer
daft on her; and he wanted to know il
she could love him. aqSlooked up with
face that had grown thin and pale, an6
answered truthfully and simply
II don't think as l do now, Tom bu
if you like to wait, I think it'll Gomez
"Bless you?' said Tom; "I'd wait sew
en- years rather nor lose YOU"
But he had only to wait one. ''He'
gold: and t'otber was gilt" said Mary OF
her wedding-day, and she was right.
Intellect IN Brutes.