Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1883-11-01
VOL. IVII.

For sale! Yes, I'll go to Uncle Paul
But" gasped Mrs. Templeton
what will society say?"
What it pleases," Gladys answered.
Society don't settle my boot-bill, nor
provide me with pocket-money."
Gladys" said Juliet, demonstrating
ly, Il think you are crazy
Because l am emancipating my
self from slavery? But You know,
Julie, cannot see where all this is to
end"
What will Mr.. Vaudeville say?'
demurely questioned Dora, with a sly
sidelong glance at her sister.
"IIe will say" Gladys stoutly
answered, that there is one fortune
hunter the less in the ranks"
Gladys, how can you speak so
coarsely?' said Juliet, not without in
dignation.
ID IL OOttlSt. Sttl(l IL -
the simple truth. Mr.. Vaudeville is
very handsome and agreeable, but |
don't think he will miss me after the
first evening or two. Oh. there are
too many Peris in this Paradise. And
poor, good, patient Frank, he will
have one less to provide for. Yes,
I'll 60 with Uncle Paul"
You may as well commit suicide at
once" said Juliet.
"Hcu'll never marry in that wilder
ness" said Mrs. Templeton.
There are nineteen old maids in
this block" said Gladys. 1--WE count
ed them yesterday, Dora and |. Do
you suppose there are nineteen old
maids on Lake Molechunkamunk? :?
"Nonsensew said Mrs. Iempleton.
and besides" added Gladys, the
laughter fading from her eyes, ''is it
really the end and aim of all female
humanity to get married? Why
shouldn't be an old maid as well us
another? Do you think 1 shouldn't
survive it? Wait and see"
Gladys Garland had definitely made
up her mind on the subject. Within
three days she had purchased pair of
thick boots, blue flannel suit, and a
poke bonnet of rough straw, trimmed
with blue ribbons, and gone out to
Lake Molechunkamunk.
Uncle Paul was glad to see her. He
didn't live in a wigwam, us she had
almost taught herself to believe, but
owned pretty little lodge in this vast
wilderness, shaded with forest trees,
and embowercd with blue-cupped
morning-glories.
He was civilized, and did not assas-
sinate English grammar like the cham
pion hunter in the dime novels. And
he had provided pretty little boudoir
for her, whose pink mosquitO-netting
set the black flies and gnats at def
ance, and an exquisite engraving Of
the Madonna di San Sisto hung over
the broad mantle.
ooh, think shall be quite, quite
happy here said Gladys, as she sat in
a little boat where the dropping
boughs of the hazel bushes made blots
of shadow on the glittering lake, and
read while Uncle Paul fshed.
Don't regret any of the New York
cavaliers, eh n said Uncle Paul.
And Gladys stoutly answered:
"No!
But afterward she asked herself, had
she told the whole truth?
"If Darrell Vaudeville chooses to
marry Miss Dorrance, let him." she
thought. l shall never pursue any
man. Let other girls do as they think
fit"
That very afternoon, however, when
she returned from a long ramble in
the woods, with her straw hat full of
blackberries, she found the little lodge
occupied.
81 am sorry to take you thus uncere-
moniously by Storm" said handsome,
middle-aged gentleman, who looked to
be what he was, a Wall street broker
come out into the wilderness for his
summer vacation. But my friend
has fallen over cliff and broken his
leg, and this was the nearest point of
shelter within range of seven
miles. Perhaps your husband will ex-
cuse us, if"
"But it isn't my husband" said
Gladys, composedly depositing the
berries on the table. at is my Uncle
Paul. He is fishing, up the lake. But
if he were here, he would say, as 1 do
that you are very welcome. Where is
the poor man? l am not much of sur
geon, but"
She stopped abruptly. There, lying
on the little chintz-covered lounge, his
pallid face supported by cushions, lay
Mr.. Darrell Vaudeville.
Miss Garlandp' he exclaimed. 81
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