St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1884-04-13

with him. He could imagine the graceful
figure opposite to him in the boat. He could
see the brave, blue eyes, the plastic coil of
soft brown hair, the ''little ringlets round her
ears" the supple hand, the smile. Here he
jumped as if to escape an arrow. But the
archery was sure, and the boy let go his oar
with dazed recognition Of what had come
to him. An impartial observer might have
seen Cupid aiming at him for months, but
Arthur had not guessed it. He had had his
early fancies, his several Strikes" which his
thoughtful mother had some way always kept
from growing by her sympathetic raillery and
gentle good sense. Now he remembered that
he had never written her word about Stella,
nor in his vacation had mentioned Stella's
name in his home.
II don't care. It's So I love her, and I
will be worthy of loving her if she never
looks at me again." he said, loftily. Then he
looked around as if he feared the boys fishing
on the pier a half-mile off might have heard
him.
Deciding that this was impossible, he
pulled savagely off to the "crib" and exas-
perated the worthy person in charge there
by a series of scientific questions on hydro
statistics.
Before he went home that summer he tried
in an incoherent manner to make Miss
Flower understand that he had very great
admiration and respect for her, She had
consented on one or two occasions to go
down to Music hall to a Saturday concert
with him, and had asked him to stay to sup
per once when her mother was absent at his
call, and she had poured tea for her father
and small sisters
hDxy TVQrn rI1l1sI lyyo cXrTT n
the college campus. Arthur pulled off few
of the white blossoms nervously and talked
of their next year studies.
At last, after silence and with tremen-
dous effort he said: "You are SO different
from other girls"
"And you from other men," said Stella
shyly, then, chat is, they say you row I'M
commonly we'll"
II wish you would think of me kindly"
he stammered. "But you seem so superior"
Stella looked up at him questioningly. If
their eyes had met then that would have
been the end of their half understandings.
But for the life of him Arthur could not look
at her. He walked around to the other side
of the syringa and pulled some more flowers
which he dissected carefully, counting the
petals aloud.
81 am sure l am your friend, Mr. Clinton"
said Miss Flower after little in cold voice,
Sand shall be till-till we graduate" There
did nOt.seem to be anything left to say after
that, and they walked back to class without
trying to speak. But neither of them got on
very well with the Latin examination the
next hour.
They began the next year under SO con-
spicuous banner of friendship that many
of their mates pointed at them as high Pla-
tonic examples. They began to believe in
their own reality as such, and kept up the
fiction between themselves well on into their
senior year.
But Arthur went to call on her on st. Val
entine's day. Little Nettie Flower opened
the hall door for him, then the door into the
parlor, where Stella sat alone at the piano.
"Here's valentine for you, Stella" she
said, with igniting mischief, and shut them
in together.
Stella turned rigidly polite. She refused
mentally to see him driven into all that she
saw was coming.
She maintained her composure admirably
while Arthur poured forth the treasures of
two years. fervent Iove-nearly four years.
growing attachment, hope and fear and
pleading. She would not let him touch her
hand, and went and stood in dignity by
little marble Psyche on a table at the arch
between the parlors
II want an answer" said Arthur at length
with immense inpetuosity.
Stella commenced trembling She felt her
calmness fleeing. can answer" she faltered.
eyes, [ want to know if you could care for
me-if you will marry me?"
+boca monde Stella r111.y,o5 o,,5 Aod ,o,,1I
ing the portiere together after her as if to
shut him from following, and escaped to her
own room, leaving Arthur to find his own
angry way out of doors He walked frantic
ally down to the lake with an unhealthy idea
of jumping in in an unexplored corner of his
consciousness.
But the difficulty Of cutting hole through
February ice helped to deter him, and he
stalked back down Indiana avenue to his
room in Twenty-third street, looking very
gloomy and tragical.
He and Miss Flower were distantly formal
for months thereafter. Arthur considered
himself a fatty refused and very badly used
young man. Had it not been for their fast
approaching graduation, matters might have
been much worse with these two. But the
extra amount of study they were urged to
put in for final examinations, together with
the preparation of their graduation essays,
kept their minds toerably we'll occupied
and more nominally cool and temperate.
Arthur's mother came up to see his gradu-
alton. She was the most admiring auditor
of his 'valedictory, the most appreciative
bouquet-sender Of all.
At the class social she fell into CONVERSE
ton with little Nettie Flower, who had come
with her father and mother to Stella's "last
day." as she called it, The child looked SO
bright and seemed so interested in every
thing Arthur said, when the social ebb
brought him near her, that Mrs Clinton
asked:
"Do you know the valedictorian?"
ooh, yes, ma'am," said Nettie, with pride
"His name is Mr.. Arthur Clinton" Then
lowering her voice to confidence, "He used
to come to see my sister Stella"
"Indeed," said Mrs, Clinton, with little
start.
"But he doesn't come any more. He HASN'T
been there Tor a long time. Not since Valen-
tines day Stella graduated to-day, too"
added Nettie.
Mrs. Clinton consulted her programme.
30, Stella -" she ran down her list, Il
don't seem to find her name, she said, help
lessly. Nettie looked on the paper. "Here
it is" she said miss S. L. Flower. Doesn't
it look nice? Papa and mamma are SO proud
of Stella, She is just the darlingest girl.
Just think, she made my new bat TO surprise
me for my birthday last week, just when she
was finishing up her graduating essay, too"
Nettie turned her blonde head with FEM
mime appreciation that the hat was becom-
ing.
"Your sisters essay was very good one"
said Mrs. Clinton, at length, with an effort.
She must be just to her boy, though her
mothers heart ached to sympathize with
whatever burden of joy or woe he was bear
ing. She walked out presently to the great
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