Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1879-09-03

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 isn't2 she said ap-
peaIingly.
"Well, yes, it is true," he said slowly,
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, that you are going to
be married to some one else?'
81 really don't know what you mean
by what has passed between u.s. You
really couldn't think / was going to
marry youY
"Why couldn't I?'
"Well, l 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
think yourself, Alfred Hill," she said
slowly. "Ycu are dressed like one, but
you are just bit of clerk, not any
better 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 that she fought her
battle as she did; but she seemed to have
no feeling then, only to realize that
which would came hereafter.
''Pm very sorry that you let yourself
fall in love with me-" he said, tapping
his boot again. a." I 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 hadn't cared for him?
I've too much pride for that, and l
shouldn't be fit company for an honest
man if | hadn't. And you know as
I've liked you. for you made me say it,
end you know it; but it isn't you as I
like, but the man [ took you for, and he
isn't here at all"
"Well, Pm sorry you are disappointed
in your 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 trees from which the leaves
were falling. Suddenly she looked up
for Frankly; he was nowhere to be seen.
She called at the top of her voice; no
answer came. With fear that dead
ened all other feeling she ran to and fro
in wild endeavor to find him. She
asked the policeman at the gate; he had
not seen him. An hour passed in fruit
less search; and then, pale with fear,
and trembling in every limb, she went
home to relate the terrible news. Just
as she got to the door she saw through
the gathering shadows Tom Dawlish,
and in his arms little figure, which her
her heart told her was Master Frankly.
81 Met this young gentleman as he
was running away to be a sailor, and
luckily brought him back"
Running away! Why, how were
you going to get to the sea?''
L was going to walk there" said
Frankly stoutly.
"You would have killed your poor
mamma"
e. Mamma" asked Frankly Poole the
next day; "would it kill you if l ran
away to sea?"
eyes, dear, l think it would"
cob! we'll, then," he answered patron
isingly, 81 won't"
1t was spring time again when Tom
Dawlish asked Mary question once
more. He had good situation, and a
prospect of rise; and he'd always been
daft on her; and he wanted to know if
she could love him. She looked up with
face that had grown thin and pale, and
answered truthfully and simply
81 don't think as do now, Tom; but
if you like to wait, I think it'll come"
"Bless you'll" said Tom; "Pd wait
seven years rather nor lose you"
But he had only to wait one. "He's
gold, and t'other was gilt" said Mary
on her wedding day; and she was right.
-Casse1's Fam'ily Magazine.