Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1883-06-12
GaIes and Sketfkes.
FATE she DIDN'T ESCAPE.


mo, Papa Martyr. am not going to
look at his picture. His name is enough
to condemn him-Felix Quinten. l know
Just how he looks slim, French dandy,
with black moustache and very black
eyes; and he has fashion of bowling a
great deal, and Of Struggling his shout
dersr'
Lois Martyr pushed Felix Quinten's let
ter, which enclosed Felix Quinten's photo
graph. across the table to MIR. Martyr.
who laughed quietly at his daughter
spirited description.
"You hardly do the young man justice,
Lois.''
"You must be prejudiced, papa. am
surprised that you should want me to mar
~ foreigner, whom / have never seen,
and am surprised at his want Of delieacy
in planning to visit Us just to appraise my
good and bad qualities. as if were a
piece of furn ture. ora horse"
Mr.. Martyr frowned slightly.
..Nonsense. Lois. You are taking an
exaggerated view of the matter. Felix
Quinfen is a young man. He speaks as
good English as You do, though he is
French BY birth. He is coming here to
visit at my cordial invitation. and it is the
desire of my heart that you should be
mutually pleased. I know Of no young
man that would so gladly intrust your
happiness to /; but that rests with you.
One thing shall expect of you as my
daughter and the nominal mistress of my
house-a courteous and hospitable recep
ton OF our guest"
Mr.. Martyr pocketed Quinten's letter.
drew on his overcoat, took his hat, and
kissing his willful girl on one cheek, went
away.
He loved her tenderly-this motherless
daughter of his. her widest pranks had
been forgiven or laughed at by him, and
since her return from boarding school, a
year before they had been verv happy to-
gether.
She was just 1S; tall. graceful. bright
faced girl, with scornful red lips, and big
hazel eyes, quantity of nut-brown hair
which curled in little soft ringets over her
forehead
She was the veriest child in many re.
spects, and after her fathers departure for
his office, she pondered desperately over
dozen impracticable plans for evading
THAT Frenchman," as in her mind she
termed him; for, with, a woman's per-
versity, she had at once decided that the
stlhusOi PicNc iuoot blo8GitC.tDiC,
and that TO stay at home and entertain him
for a month was not to be thought of
OF sudden. wild idea flashed through
her brain; so wild that her eyes dilated,
and she caught her breath with little
gasp at the holiness of it, And then
mischievous smile awoke ravishing dim
pie in one cheek, as starting from her
chair. she took reckless pirouette down
tkx, lnpr ,.r,tl A,-t tl,.,t
sent one rosetted slipper flying from a
dainty foot.
IN do itr' she declared with defiant
nod at her reflection in the glass. 'My
name is Norval On the Grampian hills,
ut that But as for me, give me liberty or
give me death Papa will forgive me after
it is all over-he always does"
So it happened that week later, when
Mr.. Martyr brought Felix Quinten into
the pleasant and luxurious parlor, which
seemed so comfortable after the keen
night air of the December streets, that the
old colored servant, who had been with
them for years. met her master with these
words:
"Please, sir. Miss Lois went away this
morning. She left this note, and said as
how it would be all right"
And Aunt irony courtesied and lett the
room.
Mr.. Martyr gave his guest chair, and
opened the note with an ominous frown
gathering over his kindly face.
As he finished it he strobe up to young
Quinten and extended the open sheet to-
ward him.
There. Felix, it is useless for me to
endeavor to apologize for my williul girl.
Read her note''
And Quinten read as follows:
Darling Papa-Do forgive me. have
made up my mind to run away from Mr.
Felix Quinten, for the thought of playing
the agreeable to him for whole month is
perfectly unbearable. You can he as nice
to him as YOU like. and you know Aunt
irony will have everything in good shape.
l am off for Uncle David's; so don't wor-
ry about me. I'll come home when Mr.
Quinten has returned to his native land
Your loving LOIS"
Felix Qunten laid his head back on his
chair, and laughed out in such rollick-
ing fashion, that Mr.. Martyr laughed in
sympathy.
WHO'S Uncle Davidp" queried the
young man at last.
HeT ueau mOtner Drotner. VINO Keeps
lighthouse on a lonely, rocky headland
on the coast of Maine. David and his
wife set the world by the girl; but think
of her spending month in that lonely
place. in the dead OF winter, with those
old people for companyr'
Quinten unused tor a moment smiling
ly, and then said
Mr.. Martyr, will go after her."
"You, Felix Pr
Eyes listen to my plan.'
MIR. Martyr drew chair to that of the
young mans and listened with some
astonishment and much amusement TO his
proposition.
1t was clear, cold, wintry night. The
lonely sea coast looked wild and roman
tic IN the bright starlight,
The light in the tower of Black Head
made bright pathway upon the black.
restless waters, dotted here and there with
floating fragments of ice.
A desolate wind moaned sorrowfully
about the ragged rocks.
A small boat came dancing up the path
way Of light, and the two occupants peer
ed eagerly forward
There's Black Head, Mr.. Quinten-