Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1880-04-25
WHO MELINDA MARRIED.

$50 you're back again with your old en-
ployers, and at frst-class salary. I'm
very glad, assure you, and SO will my hus-
band be when tell him. Sorry you can't
stay to tea with us on account of the chill
dren. How old is your eldest, Tommy"
"Let rue see.'' The individual addressed
balanced his hat between his knees on both
little fingers. and carefully studied its in
terror, as though the information he sought
lurked somewhere under the lining. A
great, blonde bearded man, but he always
was and always would be Tommy. Never
being able to rid himself of a certain awk-
ward bashfulness, nor ever having lost the
big, innocent eyes, honest mouth and ruddy
complexion that made him look like an
overgrown schoolboy. "Amanda's eleven
this June. Lucy was nine In February.
Melinda seven, and Vinnie-that the baby
my wife left, YOU know--will be three to-
morrow"
CAL girls p
eyes ma am, all girls"
Chow long since you left the city,"
"Let me see," and Tommy again consult
ed his hat. 81 left the spring was TWEEN
ty-one, didn't I? Well, I've been away
thirteen years. married Amanda White
Just six months after 1 left"
''She made good wife, didn't she?"
'"The very best; but, then, it wasn't as
though I'd married Melinda
s'No. I suppose not; and yet, Tommy, I
tell you, as I've always told you, Melinda's
not altogether worthyo of you. Not that she
isn't good-principled, warm-hearted, and
all that, but her views of life are false"
''Then you think there's no chance for
me. Is anybody else in the wayf''
Nobody, and never has been, excepting
the girl her self. To my certain knowledge,
she's had but one offer beside yours. That
was from old Mr.. Hulks, the great shipper.
I thought Melinda would tear his eyes out.
So, you see, she won't marry merely for
money"
"Still, youthink there's no chance for me?
7 daren't ask her, you know; she said the
last time-when came on after Amanda
died, you remember-that If ever did it
again, she'd never speak to me-
"Saying that she meant it, best not to
venture. Let matters take their course.
See her as often as possible, but keep
certain distance. Maybe things will work
around somehow. She's got in with new
set lately-clever people-but they have
fancy they've discovered new way to put
the world to rights, and are just the ones
to do it. It's all well enough, suppose.
Amuses them and don't hurt anybody, but
I'm out of patience, for all. See here,
Tommy, I've an idea. She visits the Park
the day the society meets-that's to-mor-
row-to commune with nature, she says. I
know her favorite spot; she's always alone;
you go there, take the children, and get
somewhere near her."
''Take the children! I'd brighten her
miles and miles away"
"No, you wouldn't. The more I reflect
ON this plan, the better I like it. Ask
for half holiday, gather up your girls, and
60"
The day was all that could be desired.
May blue sky, with drift of clouds like
departing snow across it; warm, penet,'at-
ing sunbeams; soft airs, alive with chill
dren's voices and bird-warblings. Yet could
not my heroine find herself in harmony
with the scene. She succeeded in securing
her favorite seat in the Park, niche on
the hillside, with an interlacing Of boughs,
and glimpses of rock and river. 1t con-
tanned only two settees,
Melinda met Tommy Whittlesy just az
he was leaving the afternoon previous.
Somehow those big, blue, reproachful eyes
met hers whichever way she looked. More
especially did they haunt the page she
tried in vain to read, and moved in her
pencils wake when she turned to writing
for relief. Not that she cared for their
owner. Oh, never particle. Any time
since her fifteenth birthday, she had but to
say, 81 love you,'' to make Tommy the hap
piest of men. Yet she never did say it
never intended saying it. True, life was
unsatisfactory. One dream after anothee
faded; still there was hope of her De-
coming something, being somebody; tied
to Tommy, that was gone. AS Mrs. Whit
tlesy, her days would be bounded on the
east by breakfast, south by dinner, north
by supper, and west by basket of undarn-
ed stockings.
Was there ever-no, there never was
such impudence Tommy Whittlesy and
,ne, two, three, four feminine Whittleys,
walking in upon her seclusion quite as
matter of course. Yet, no, not altogether
70. Tommy swayed awkwardly from side
to side an instant, then, with lift Of the
hat and scrape meant for bow, turned
as red as the Giant of Battles, and drop
ped upon the other bench, also upon her
shawl.
sTThis is Miss Denver children', and