The Newtown bee. (Newtown, Conn.) 1877-current, 1879-09-10

peculiar dispensation of Providence, in
Stead Of clutching the handkerchief I
caught a pretty little hand, which had
been syifter than mine in recovering its
owners property.
This incident appeared quite unim-
portant at the time, but there were two
phases to it which impressed me after
ward. First. the promptitude with
which Miss Dunscombe stopped to a.
task mine by all precedent in etiquette,
second, the discovery that on one corner
of the diminutive handkerchief was in
scribed, in delicate embroidery, the
name 'Gwendoline.''
Miss Dunscombe probably noticed my
surprise at this little discovery, for she
volunteered an explanation.
81 declare, one of Ovens! How she
will bless mel I'm ALWAYS running
away with her handkerchiefs. -
Being at a loss for proper reply, I
responded, ,sagely:
"Ah, indeedp"
Eyes; I should scold you for squeez-
ing my hand, | suppose, but I will for
give you this time; boys will be boys,
you know
And little girls" said I, wrathfully,
will be little girls"
Yes; is it not queer?" said Miss
Dunscombe, artlessly. 'And oh, gra-
ciousl / want to know what you think
of Gwendoline. | suppose, after seeing
me, you are desperately in love with
her"
1t may be well to state, just here. that,
| being young and tolerably foolish, / had
| already fallen desperately in love with
the angel at my side, and my reply to
her last query was accordingly tempered
| by fervor productive of the most fla
grant indiscretion.
| My dear Miss Dunscombe," said l.,
trembling with emotion, limp with love,
"you may think it heartless; but with
out reciprocating your sisters hatred l
feel sure that / shall never be able to
love her, much less to marry her, for my
| heart is already engaged"
| Engaged" exclaimed the angel :;
engaged, and to whom?"
ridiculous ogle, 81 hope to answer at
some future time. But rest assured that
| shall never willingly marry Gwendo-
| line Dunscombe."
Concluding this very foolish speech
with a look Of ardent admiration in the
direction of my companion, | was horri-
fled to observe a glow of mingled pertur-
baton and merriment light up her coun-
| tenance. "s+ rzst
Future brother-in-law," she cried,
! between bursts of ringing laughter,
cit is useless to disguise the fact any
longer--you are in love with me. Oh,
you wicked, wicked, susceptible man!
What will Gwen dopn
Il presume, from information given
me by you, that she may survive it," 1
jerked out, rather family.
''Oh, but it is too shocking for any
thing, you know. You wicked, de-
PRAYED man, sit further from me--really
you must, now-we are coming to tun-
mel, and how do l know but you-you
might steal kiss?"
AS she spoke we dashed into tunnel.
l have never been able to say whether or
not anything extraordinary happened in
that tunnel-it was dark, and l per-
ceived nothing.
AS we were about to enter, the angel
dropped her handkerchief, and both
STOPPING simultaneously to recover it,
our heads Appropriated for moment.
This, however, was but a natural con-
sequence. Also, as we issued from the
tenebrous atmosphere into broad day.
light, the angel appeared little fius-
tered, and remarked: @
you're horrible, horrible man'
The angel had but time enough to re-
gain her customary repose of manner ere
our journey came to an end, and the iron
horse painted YEARLY into the station at
b, and rested.
a portly, gray-haired gentleman was
waiting on the flags as the angel, pre-
ceding me, stepped from the train. He
embraced her with much fervor, say
ing: ..-
Good bless my soul, Gwen! you are
looking nervous. How do you feel, my
dear? By-the-way, we expected Rand
by this train. Bless my soul! this is the
man. What a-what a-coincideneei"
With which exclamation the old gen
lehman stared at me very hard. ..
Il recognize YOU" he said, from
your likeness to your uncle, my old
chum, Melancthon Rand. This is my
daughter Gwendoline, my only child"
| looked at the angel. She blushed
scarlet. l was bewildered. srr-x.--
AS we walked together to the carriage
waiting to bear US to Dunscombe Hall,
l asked:
And how about the-your twin sis
ter, Miss Dunscombe?"
:. Oh, YOU dear, foolish boy" said she,
'can't you see we are Siamese twins,
only more ineorporate?'
ssGreat heavens!' thought I, and l
have sworn TO her face never to marry
herr'