Connecticut western news., 1883-07-11
WESTERN NOVELETTE,.
A STORY OF STEADFAST AND TRUE
 DEVOTION,
How Womnn's Love Exncted n SncrificinI Promise which was CheerfuIly Granted.
From the Chicago Tribune "PaSs the butter "

u
 Promise which was CheerfuIly Granted.
 From the Chicago Tribunel "Pass the butter.'
 Out beneath the star-gemmed sky, and under the sturdy old oaks that had bid defiance to the storms of centuries. dlrofie Mahaffy and George w. Simp- son were sitting that beautiful June night, the balmy breath of the evening that was being waited in signing kisses from the everglades of Florida made vocal by, the chirp of the cricket and the low, mellow note of the dissipated tom cat as he wandered listlessly arotlnd the back yard, "now and then lodging in 8 honchalant, langi1id fashion the latest boot-lack as it came hustling through the ar With cruel force, or stopping be- heath window to see if his howl was still within reach. Up from the west ward came the sound of the sea as it's silvered foam plashed in rhythmic ca- dence on the white sands of the beach. and through the masses of foliage that encircled Brierton Villa could be seen. ever and anon, especially anon, the fit ful flicker of the ice-cream lairs that f1ecked the horizon in every direction. It was night for a poets pen, painters brush, or 8 large schooner of weiss beer. and as Girofe sat there in the gloaming her thoughts wandered back to the days of year agone, when every moment of her life was brimming over with ioy and every day seemed rose- tinted dream from which one would never care to waken.
 And now. all was changed. Standing on the verge of womanhood and watch ing with wistful eyes for the mists of futurity to rise, her life should have been happy one as Hope called to her with Jocund voice and youth laughed back re- sponse. But instead of this the dark | some shadows of doubt and fear fell ever on the pure young face, and in the sweet brown eyes there was 8 wistful, yearn- ing, Heaven-knows-I-wi I-wish-my-shoes- were-two- sizes larger look that was pitt ful in it's sad beauty.
 
 sYou cannot love me, George" she says at last, Cor you would not leave mo 1n this manner-go away for two whole days, when you know that my heart will be breaking for you, and that every moment of your absence will be to me an age of torture and doubt and coming to his side she placed her arms about his neck in 8 shy, hesitating, don 't-know- whether am -afoot- or horse back fashion that tells its own sweet story of love that will never fade or falter as long as the collateral securities hold out.
 And so they stand there, the moments passing by unheeded, the girl nestling Ill his arms secure ill the deep trustful- ness ot an overpowering passion, while the man, smoothing her fair forehead gently, bends over now and then to kiss tho rosy lips that are upturned to his and then wonders in dreamy, idylhc north side fashion who the last man that held a similar situation on Girofe's staff might have been. Suddenly the girl breaks the silence-she had broken the man on the last matinee day. "And you must really go?" she says "really and truly?"
 "Yes," he answers, "when duty calls we must obey, and have seldom known duty to call on the poorest hand"
 "But I cannot let you go," she says passionately. 'It is cruel to test my love so sorely," and breaking down in 8 storm of sobs, she clings to him more closely than ever. And then, just as he fears for her reason, so terrible does the blow seem, the sobs that are making the little form quiver with anguish cease, and Girofe looks up with 8 happy smile upon her face. "I will be brave," she says, "but you must make me one prom ise, holy, sacred promise that even death itself may not absolve you from. ;
 II will do it gladly, my precious one, 3 he murmurs. "What is this promise ?'
 "You must promise," she says, "to lend me your razor"
 Why, of course will, sweetheart, '' he replies gayly. II promise you that cheerfully. But why do you make such strange request?
 Because" she says in those low, mellow tones that would lure 8 man through Inferno or to Harvard Junc- tion, ''I have large, throbbing bun ion."