The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1884-08-21
A KISS IN THE DARK.

Mile Mason sat by the low, open
window. looking down into tho quiet.
deserted street below.
Millie was one of those sweet, loving
home-girls, with the bluest OF eyes. the
reddest of lips and II saucy dimple in
either cheek; but the eyes We're solemn
and fearful now, and tho dimples were
folded away behind n troubled, grieved
expression which shadowed the young
face with an untimoly sorrow.
.Oh, why don't he Gomez she muir
INJURED, leaning far out of the window,
and gazing anXiously down the dim,
star-lit street
street lamp tlckered on distant
corner, but the one nearest Miles
home had. for some reason, gone out,
and the shadows lay dark and deep in
that part of the street
Il do believe-yes, there he comes"
she added, Il moment later, as the tall,
square-built figure of young man
came hastily down the street, and ran
briskly up the front steps.
Apply ing his latch-key to the door,
he entered the hall.
The next instant something white
came fluttering down the stairs, with u
breezy rustic To its garments, and a
pathetic voice addressed him.
1T is almost twelve O'Clock.
waited up SO that you wouldn't dis
turb---''
"Never mind, sis" said IL merry
voice, which didn't sound one bit like
brother Franks.
But NIiliie decided, with sigh and Il
heavy pain ut her heart. that it was be-
cause he had been drinking.
She must get him ND to his room
without disturbing Uncle Paul, she
thought, anxiously, for Uncle Paul had
said that very day that Frank Mason
must ''change his ways" or find some
other home, and Frank had promised,
SO earnestly, to reform, for Miles
sake.
If Uncle Paul should learn of this
mistake, he would never forgive him.
If she could only smuggle him into his
room without the '.sharpened' old
mans knowledge, maybe he d be more
careful in tho future.
"You shouldn't have waited up for
me, SIS" said the young man, putting
his arms about her in very brothcrly
manner. mo, he added, as she turned
to ascend the stairs, ''you shouldn't
have come down them; you are not
strong enough yet. But1since you did.
I'll carry you up"
He took her in his strong arms rs he
spoke. lifting her as lightly Us if she
had been child of eight. instead of
plump young lady of eighteen.
1t was such an unusual thing for
Frank TO do. He was not very demon
strative in his affection for her, and
had never seemed especially careful OF
tender of her.
Miilie was actually frightened at his
unusual kindness and thoughtfulness;
but she did not dare demonstrate, for
fear of urousing Uncle Paul.
To think that he should consider her
scarcely strong enough to come down
the stairs to meet him-she, who had
spent the greater part of her sweet, un-
selfish life in waiting upon her lazy,
big brotheri
OF course this unusual tenderness on
Franks part was wholly due to his
half-intOxicated condition.
But, as the strong arms carried her
safely to the top of the long stairs. n
delicious little thrill ran through her.
and she could not help wishing that
Frank would alw ays be like this in his
care for her.
There you are, puss! he said, put
ting her down at the top. ''Now for
my pay"
He lifted the girls face to his own
and kissed it, in the gloomy shadow of
the unlit passage.
Millie felt a crimson wave sweep over
it. Frank had never kissed her. except
| al l,nf
moro as an imperative duty than real
token of affection.
"You are the heaviest sick girl ever
carried upstairs" he said merrily. as
though it was n common thing for him
to carry girls upstairs. and Millic knew
that the bashful fellow would have cut
his hand off sooner than have done it
when in his right mind.
AS for her being sick-the mere
thought brought smile to her lips, but
this was no place to dispute with her
brother in his present condition.
.'Go to bed, SIS" he said, with q
tender solicitude in his tones, s.and
don't wait up for me again. You can t
afford to have your nights rest broken.
Only few more weeks and this night
work will be over. 1 am doing the
company good turn now, and they
are not the kind of men to forget it
either
He turned as he spoke, and bidding
her goodnight, opened the door and
walked directly into the guest chamber.
Millie stood quite still in tho dark.
and looked at the place where he had
! disappeared from view. She could hear
| him moving about the room, getting
ready for bed.
'Ill have to manage to mako the bed,
and straighten tho room, before aunt
finds it out" sho soliloquized. "She'd
know that Frank wasn't right, or he
never would have gone in there"
Millie was up early the next morn
ing. in order to be ready to ''straighten
up" the guest chamber the moment
Frank should leave it.
She fingered about the passage, anx-
iously waiting, when suddenly some
one came up tho stairs and discovered
her there.
''Why. Frank" she gasped, ''when
did you get upP"
II haven't been to bed ut ALL" he
answered; and she could SEQ that ho
had not been drinking either. "Uncle
dul uIu HPtht WuotC ~
the shop. We found out that a bur-
glary was meditnted, and we caught
the thieves. too. Uncle Paul is SO de-
lighted over my part in the affair that
/ he is going to promote me Mt once. "
You didn't come home last night?"
exclaimed Miliie, in surprise.
mo, ma am; had other fish to fry"
'.And you haven't been drinking?"
! "Nothing but water. I've signed
the pledge, and mean to keep it.
'.And you-you didn't carry me up.
stairs. and-and kiss me ut the top
faltered Millie. with crimson checks.
mo, indeed" laughed Frank. 'I'm
too sensible for such nonsense"
''Then who dida" cried AIillie, in.
dignantly,
II beg your pardon, miss. but thinl
1t was me-" said an exceedingly ''crest
fallen" voice from the door ot ths