Sun River sun. [volume] (Sun River, Mont.) 1884-1885, 1884-02-28

NHSe Ill SluT0 . SUClcCy u WIS JUST
as impossible not to yield h the charm
Of her gay good nature as it would be
to resist the influence Of bright
spring day, and George was soon
laughing and chatting pleasantly with
her, Us innocent Of wrong as II cherub.
But to Dora, happening by at the
exact timc specified in her note, it
looked very like a lrcconcerted meet
ing.
Her brown eyes flashed fire, but
she gracefully bowed to tho tow and
hurried on without speaking.
When George called that evening,
however, the storm burst upon his
devoted head. In win he explained
the situation, and protested his entire
innocence. Dora would not be con-
vinccd.
"You seemed to be enjoying your
self immensely in her society, ut all
events" she declared ungnciously.
"Why Of course" he returned, un-
consciously adding insult to injury.
"Who could help enjoying Clara
Conroy's society! She's one Of the
jollicst girls OH earth
cts too bad you didn't find that
out sooner, then, George said Dora.
her lips trembling II little with some
emotion that was not altogether an
ger. IF You think you would be
happier with her, why
Dora" cried George, provoked be-
yond endurance, If this is not stopped
I will
He checked his hasty words, but
tho next instant he added angrily:
Dora, this nonsensical jealousy is
trying enough in ones sweetheart; in
u wife it would be simply insuffcr-
able"
Dora threw her head back proudly,
stcadying her trembling tones rs the
spoke:
II understand You, sir" she said
haughtily. Il think We had better
part"
'Do you mean that Doraw
''Yes, do" she answered firmly.
"Vcry WE'LL" he snid. II have II
good offer to go out West which 1
had made up my mind to refuse, sole
ly to please You. Now, l suppose !
am ut liberty to accept it"
Certainly
"Good by, then, Dora, I shall go at
once"
.Good byew
No human being would over know
the effort it cost her to say that word
without breaking down.
But she did it, and George was
gone, while she stood like one par
alyzcd, longing to call him back, yet
without the power to utter n word.
When our story opens she Ind long
been aware Of her folly and injustice.
Clara Conroy, long since married,
had penitently confessed tho "practi-
cal joke which had lcd to such sad
results.
But Dora did not know where
George now was, SO she could not
have recalled him il she would.
1t was cool, crisp autumn night,
and the moon was at its full.
AS Dora sped rapidly along the
lonely road to the old well, shc trem-
bled ut every dead leaf that came
rustling to the ground, ut the very
shadow OF herself fitting along the
road before her.
Her thoughts were full of George,
SO far away in the distant West. How
silly she was, to be trying her fortune
as other ] gisE'Sw i Ms ais Eli impossible to ever
sna .a;n SEQ the only one WHO 'o"'"
-I..ra her destiny! 49,.
Then came the gllustly fancy which
she would have laughed ut in the day
time, but which seemed perfectly
suited to this lonesome spot ut mid
night.
"What if he should be dead, and
his spirit should come to meet mo
hercw
Half shivering at the thought, she
bent over the old we'll whose waters
she could clearly see in the bright
moonlight, and pronounced aloud
some mpstic formula for the OCCASION
As the last word left her lips, there,
sure enough, beside her own reflected
face in the water, suddenly appeared
another.
With a terrified scream, Dora start
ed back and fell, almost fainting, into
pair of strong arms held out to sup
port her.
"Dora, Dora! don't be SO fright
ened," cried voice, whose beloved
sound she had never forgotten. "Yol
have not seen a ghost, dear. 1t is