The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1879-11-06

might as well nave no heart at all, you
keep it under such perfect control"
ssPerhaps Imay fall in love yet. Show
me the man, and | will"
But that's not the way
cts my way Show me an eligible
match, morally, intellectually, socially,
financially, and | will
The least bit of color struggled into
Amy's face. ''Could Mr.. Philip be
made to answer"
"I'm not quite sure. / insist upon
elaboration. Perhaps he might answer
l have always said, Give me the right
kind of man, and my affections will
Irvine. But they shall not Irvine unless
am convinced that the man is fully up
to the mark
"You make merit of worldliness.'
$50 be sure | do. | am a child of
this world"
Amy was transiently wretched She
loved her sister, and she excused and
deplored her in the same breath.
Mr.. Philip, you perceive. He had
dropped his last name, and retained his
two baptismal names of John and Philip.
MHe told Nanny Jones of the arrival,
and the old woman followed the ripen-
ing of the acquaintance with feverish in
terest. 1t was no light matter to her
that Philip grew pre-occupied and rest
less. Are she gwine ter ruin him
agin?n she wondered. Amt onst
enuffp'1
She was thankful Helen had not rec
ognized him, and in the same heartbeat
she was indignant. latter all he done
went through fur her!" She hardly be-
lieved Helen could have forgotten. But,
after all, Philip had greatly changed
There was the same change in kind that
results from the chiseing of statue.
Patience and fortitude and intellect had
modelled every line of his face. The
look of recklessness, of daring, of care
lessness, that had once distinguished
him had quite faded out now. He had
conquered himself. He had conquered
life.
When Mrs. Gray had recovered from
her lame back and sprained foot, and
was in condition to resume her journey,
Philip made up his mind to speak to her
on the subject nearest his heart. 1t had
been hard for him to believe that he
might still win her, on first discovering
that she was widow, but, after all, it
is easy enough to accustOm ones self to
happiness, and of late Philip had al
lowed himself to hope reservedly. Helen
was so captivating, so winning.
One afternoon he asked her to drive
with him. His courage failed him when
it came to the point, and he had hard
work to put this question into words
But at last he succeeded. Could
she love him? Would she marry him?
Helen turned away from him her sweet,
proud face with its half smile. But she
did not refuse him. She only asked for
time for reflection, for elaboration.
Philips heart beat high. Had he gained
her?
But it was not over yet. "There is
something MORE" he began; ga dis
closure | have to make. Do not be
startled I-you-' Then, in breath,
g am Philip Trapier.n
She fairly gasped. 1t was if fair
and stately castle of dreams had been
suddenly shattered at her feet. Philip
Trapier! The forger! The oucast!
Actually shape took form before her
eyes of Philip in his blue dress and
shaver head The disgrace was as
close and real to her to-day as though
he had not since that time achieved an
honorable position. Marry him? Never!
Why, any day the subject might be
brought up: he might be recognized, the
old story of shame repeated.
1t mattered not to her why he had
done it, how he had done it: she had a
convenient memory.
"Why did you not tell me at first?"
she said. Philip could not have believed
sweet tones could turn so icy. "What |
you did then was a great shock to me-
to all your friends. | have thought of |
you since as dead. 1t was better so. | !
never could bring myself to overlook
such an offense.''
Not a trace-not shred of pity. 1t |
is in his heart to cry, - did it for
you'll! :" but he refrains. She feels his
thought, for she adds: ''There was
an impression at the time that you |
wished to raise money to pay off the |
mortgage on our place. 1t was cruel to
implicate us-Amy and myself in such |
transaction. Besides, you did not
succeed. The place fell into Mr.. Gray's |
hands. Thank Heaven it did, rather
than your money should have paid the
debt-the price of crime. / would |
rather have begged my bread from door
to door,"
She would not, of course, but her face |
famed as she said it. And at least she /,
did not simulate her horror and disgust
at Philips communication. She said
to herself that she would rather associ- |
ate with a murderer than with thief.
She was proud, and she was ambitious.
A man with such q stain upon his past
was no mate for her, and it was as well
he should understand it. She gathered
up her skirts, and said good-evening to
him with calm politeness when they
parted, but she did not offer him her
hand.
Philip pursued his homeward way. At
his garden gate he found Nanny Jones
standing, and who but Amy stood be-
side her. Amy had strOlled by on her
return from a country walk, had seen
Nanny, and had. recognized her. 1t
was not strange that, having identified
Nanny, she should proceed to identify
Philip. She had Just dragged from
Nanny the confederation of her suspi-
cions when Philip came up. She greet
ed him with outstretched hands. She
had not forgotten his goodness in the
past. And she was so glad to see him,
so proud of him, as every angel must be
over one sinner that repenteth. Mann
my mumbled some excuse, and hObbled
back to the house. She was a rheumat-
ic old woman now.
- Thank heaven!" Philip said, fer
vently, Il am not too vile for you to
touch my hand
Amy looked into his face. and read