The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1884-08-27
INTERESTING STORY.
CHRISTINE'S LOVER.

A letter, ell ?" said Mr.. Muller slowly
turning the epistlo over and over, and
scrutini2ing the big red seal. For my
Christine 1 calculate, now, it'll be from
Harry Martin"
The messenger, barefooted gypsy with
furtive eye, am uneasy, shutting gait, and
an unpromising blue and yellow spot under
one eye, nodded his head by way of assent.
And amt it pretty cool of Harry Martin
to suppose that any respectable mans
daughter is going to read letters that come
from him ?" said Mr.. Muller AN embez-
zler A regular swindler!"
The messenger uttered an inarticulate
grunt, and vanished into the dripping woods.
Muller dropped the letter into his pocket
and went into the house, where the rain beat
an incessant tune on the old shingled roof
and all the world seemed wrapped in gray
vail of mist.
1t was neat, thrifty farmhouse, with a
shining board floor, yet redolent of its re-
cent deiuge of soap and sand white cotton
curtains at the window, and row of month";
iy roses in the deep SILL Mrs Muller was
frying ham and eggs for the substantial farm
supply. Chrissy sat in the corner, mending
a basket of stockings.
There, said Mr.. Muller, tartly, as he
looked at the downcast head, all weighted
with luxuriant braids of chestnut hair, the
wet lashes, the crimson stains on either
cheek, " she's cryin' agin l tell you l
won't have it !"
" Father! !" pleaded Mrs. Muller, leaving
her eggs to scorch in the pan.
I-wont-have it," dogmatically re-
peated the farmer.
They were engaged. you know said
the mother, with plaintive tremolo in her
voice.
And bad business it was" growled
Muller. But no daughter of mine can be
engaged any longer to a State-prison bird.
"Father!"
" I've said it," declared Abel Muller,
. and mean it. always knew there was
no good in TINT Harry Martin. They're a
bad set tho Martins, from beginning to end.
And we're well quit of them. Now don't
let me hear the name ever spoken under this
roof again.
But when he had gone out into the shed
to patch up piece of harness, Mrs. Muller
went to her daughters side.
d" Chrissyl"
"Oh, mother, motheri"
And then the two women wept in each
others arms, as only mother aud daughter
can.
shall never see him again, mother"
sobbed Chrissy "but shall love him to
my life's end. And never, never will
marry another man for 1 love him-oh,
mother, love him |"
" But your father is dreadful set in his
ways" said Mrs. Muller, sadly, "and he al
ways wanted you to have Squire Johnson
" shall never marry Squire Johnson
said Christine, in a low voice; and then she
resumed the needle and the endless ball of
darning cotton, and she tried, through her
tears, to work again.
She had been engaged to Harry Martin
for year They were to have been mar
ried in the fall. And now--he was convicted
of forgery and driven from the place. For,
although his employers in the great Steam
Mills refused to prosecute, in consideration
of his youth and previous good character,
these were the facts. He had confessed to
the crime. He had no extenuating circum-
stances to allege. He simply pleaded
guilty.
0bf 10 I oanl1 have .na,, l,;,,, -, e;,l,od
poor Christine. If could only have bid
him farewell |"
He hadn't the face for that" said Farm
err Muller, bitterly.
He would not even grant on audience to
Harry's mother when she came, pale and
bowed down, to the house. Old Mr.. Mar
tin, Harry's father, still kept his place in
the mills. The proprietors deemed it hardly
just to vent their indignation upon the poor
old man who had served them for twenty
years. He had responsible position, and
he was allowed to keep it. But he went
about with dropping head and absent eye,
like one in o dream.
Harry was always a good boy" he said
"Alwnys!n
Deacon Griffiths shook his head.
I'm afeared, Brother Martin" said he,
"you didn't bring him up strict enough"
Mr.. Martin looked at the good deacon
with lack-lustre eyes.
Harry was always good boy" he said.
And when Squire johnson came wooing
TO the Muller farmhouse, Christine said,
"No!"
" 1t amt possible" said the squire, who
was fat, with little onion-eyes and smooth.
ly-shaven upper lip, "that you're frettin'
after that Martin chap yet p
&C. was engaged to Harry Martini" said
Christine, with some spirit, "and have
never yet been absolved from my promise"
But he's a criminal" said the squire in
his thick, husky voice, that sounded as if it
was hidden between two feather beds.
He's in furren parts. He don't dare to
come bach to this country"
"That makes no difference" said Chris
tine, calmly. 81 love him. l shall never
marry any other man."
In vain were the squires clumsy plead
ings, Mr.. Muller's threats and commands.
Christine remained firm; and the upshot of
it all was that she was turned out of doors
Not that mind on my own account"
she said, bravely. ~ can always earn my
living by teaching school. But it's hard on
mother"
And she undertook, accordingly, the