Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1882-06-01

or Mr.. Popison, just beginning to be
bald, with his halfmiiGon of money.
Once, when she heard James Macarthur
reproach servant who had delayed
with note of hers, she thought Mr..
Popison's indulgent kindness was some
thing desirably restful On the other
hand, when she looked at James Nc
Arthur's dark dazzle of beauty, the daily
sight of so plain a face as Mr.. Popison's
seemed sorry fate-and Popison was
such dreadful namel But Mary would
not have her thoughts dwell on more
than the step before her. There was
omething too unmaipenly in even ac-
knowledging to herself a preference for
one who did not declare love for her.
Yet she could not help the plunging in
her breast when she found James Nc
Arthur's eyes resting on her with
light behind them that made her feel
the next moment would bring theword
she waited; and she could no, help
Just then being especially kind to Mr..
Popison, partly from pity, partly from
mischief, partly and chiefly, lest she
betrayed herself with James Nc
| Artbur--time and eternity with him
that seemed a dream of earthly ro-
nance and heavy bliss. And yet
MARY said her Aunt Sophy, you
are wrong to encourage Mr.. Popison
so. You certainly can't mean to marry
him."
81 don't know" said Mary. 81
should always like to have him around"
Days and months went by, and still
things remained rs they were. James
Macarthur went his long business jour
neys; and in his absence Mr.. Popison
filled the vacant place; he returned,
and then there were the moon-lit strol!s,
the sails, the rides again, and that was
all. In spite of the temporary pleasure
of such strolls and sails, in spite of her
gayety and her merry hirtations with
others than these, it was not happy
season to Mary dunlap. Her nerves
began to feel strange agitation;
conversation irriated her; slamming
doors made her spring; small excite
ment set her quivering; she had no
appetite; she slept little; her color
began to fade. One day Mr.. popison
said to her: 'Mary, have been OBJ
serving you, and | think perhaps | do
you an injury in wishing to make you
my wife. l shall always care for you,
always watch over you. But | with
draw that tacit offer of marriage, which
if | have never formally made, you
have long been conscious of.
That capped the whole. She must
be growing d fright. She had lost all
her charm. Even Mr.. Popison did not
want to marry her any more. She
turned on him her eyes, like sapphires
set with diamonds, like violets glitter
ing with dew, and burst into tears. 1t
made his heart ache. But from that
moment he was person to her of a
certain moral dignity, dignity which
could not belong to james Macarthur,
who neither declared himself nor let
her alone. That month Bessie Travers
came to see them, pleasant girl-with
a fortune. She was engaged to Tom
Dunlap: but, through some notion
about keeping their happiness to them
selves. it was at present secret--a Sc
cret of which James Macarthur did not
dream. For he began straightway to
explore Miss Bessie's character, sound
its depths and take its heights, and do
his best to interest himself where it
was for his interest to be interested, as
Mary said. And Mary Dunlap, look
ing on, for all her levity, felt rs if a
death cod hand had her heart-strings
in is icy grip. She shut herself in her
own room and suffered month of
misery-a room filled with fresh flow
ers, fruits, novels, candies; but James
Macarthur sent none of them. When
she came down again oil was as before,
except that Mr.. Popison's visits had
almost ceased. Somehow there was q
dreaminess without that kindly smile
of his she found herself missing him !;
and when she met him she began to
say 30, and then to blush like damask
rose, and paused.
"You miss meY You really miss
me?" he cried, d elightedly.
ooh, unspeakably!" said Mary Dun
lap; and there was no coquetry in the
confession.
"And shall you miss me if go away
forever? For must 1t is impossible
for me to stay where you are"
go away foreverw 1t came over her
all at once, and then the world would
be desert. She turned ashen. But if
he could go, she would not let him
know. Every WELL" she said coolly.
81 want to ask you something before
you go. Did you really, as Tom says,
lend Jane Macarthur ten thousand dol
lars when he came near failing last
spring.
"Is that alp he said. "That was a
trife. and it makes no difference now
that l have lost nearly all the rest"
"You have lost you- money%-with
rush of pity.
ga great deal of it. But that was
nothing; he would have done as much
for me-"
"Humphr' said Mary.
"Mary, thought you"
"Cared for James Macarthur? Per-
haps | did, once, just as you cared for
Aunt Sophy. III did, the fire burned
to ashes"
"And you will not marry him.
"Why, he never asked me-"
| F1alt'