The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1881-11-30

| her"
"But, Lizzie, 1 ask you to be my
wife, and you have not answered me. I
do not boast when say my suit would
not be rejected in most families of high
standing where am known"
"Ah, that is the idea," she exclaimed
hastily ;"if, as you say, you do care for
me"-she stammered little over the
words, "you would soon grow weary of
my stupid ways. I should shame you
every day of your life, and your grand
friends would wonder at your choice,
and 1 should die of homesickness."
"With me, Lizzie p
eyes, even with you" smiling and
blushing as she met his eyes.
He laughed-he was SO sure of win
ming her-and kissed her mouth.
"Well, sweetheart, 1 will live here
then, and turn keeper of the light after
your father. Will that suit you ?"
"Don't deceive yourself, Mr.. Mcin-
tyre. We would not be happy together,
and think how terrible it would be-
bound together forever"
He laughed exultantly and with
great deal of amusement.
"Faith / think it would be a
mighty pleasant thing. Come, Lizzie,
you can deny me no longer. Do you
not see that your own happiness de-
pends upon your answerP Now kiss me,
dear, and tell me that you will take the
life you were so brave to save into your
own keeping"
He drew her gently toward him, but
she faced him suddenly, with great
tears trembling on her long lashes.
"Do you think it costs me nothing to
refuse you-you who have made my life
so beautiful these few short weeks?
am rude and ignorant-s q wife
would burden and disgust you in time
1t is for your good that refuse to ac-
cept what seems like heaven to me-"
And then, swift as a deer, she flew
along the shore, leaving Mcintyre to
struggle between anger, amusement
and wounded self-love.
All that day he tried to speak with
Lizzie alone, but she gave him no
opportunity. At last, in very despera-
tion, he tapped at the door of her
fathers room. Captain Clyde was
again suffering with rheumatism, and
the young man found him in the easy
chair, while Lizzie lowered about him.
"Captain Clyde" said Mcintyre, as
he blocked the doorway with his broad
shou ders to prevent Lizzie from escap-
ing, " wish to say few words to your
daughter in your presence, since she re-
fuses to grant me that privilege else
where"
"Say on, my lad, she would be proud
to hear whatever you have to say to
her."
"Well, Lizzie, I will go away from
here tomorrow, and stay as long as you
bid me. When the time is up will re-
turn. to claim you for my wife. You
shall see that this is no idle, passing
fancy"
His eyes, grave and sad, rested on the
girls flushed face, and the bluff cap.
tain's eyes widened in amazement.
"Speak out, gal" he commanded
" Have you anything to say to this
young man, who woes you like gen.
tlemanP Shall he come-or no"
And Lizzie answered, with downcast
eyes: eff he comes one year from this
time, and still cares for me, will be
ready"
"And is that all, Lizzie ?" he said
stepping toward her with outstretched
arms
"No, I'll be bound p said the old
man. with a sly twinkle in his eyes.
"When I went counting, my little girl
used to kiss me-" And reaching over
he gave Lizzie little push that sent
her into the arms of her lover; where
upon they all laughed, and Lizzie, after
kissing Mcintyre, shyly slipped from
the room.
A whole year passed by, andsnot un-
happily to Lizzie, who had faithfully
endeavored to improve herself. She
spent the winter "on the mainland, >"
with some friends. She studied, read,
watched the people about her, and,
never coarse herself, despite her com
monplace life at home, she fell easily
into the new groove. Although not un-
happy, the girls cheek was paler than
of yore, and her eyes held q wistfulness
that had grown in them since parting
from her lover, for occasionally this
thought crossed her dreams for the fu-
ture: &C. He may not come at all-he may
forget"
But Allen Mcintyre was truer than
most of his kind; for the early fall
brought him again to Lizzie's house.
While he waited in the old-fashioned
sitting room, the door was opened hesiL
tatingly, and who was this before himP
Allen had left a young gypsy, magniti-
cent in her way, with coal black braids
and flashing eyes, ct scarcely the figure
for drawing groom in her short gown
and thick coarse shoes a daughter of
the sea, SUM- Drowned and fearless. But
this was this Lizzie? A graceful
woman in trailing robes, and the shin
ing hair braided and coiled about her
head, resting in coronet queen might
envy, above the low broad brow. Paler
than of old, her eyes downcast but
shining softly through their happy