Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1885-09-17

held sway. Lounging idly in the
depths of willow chair, was Paul,
while Martha, seated at the old organ,
drew from its aged keys low, plant.
i've melody. AS the last note died soft
ly away, whirling round upon her seat,
Martha exclaimed
"Do You know, Mr.. Dorsey, you
have been wasting the whole morning?
don't believe you have looked at. q
book for two days"--this last. it must
be owned, with slight air Of triumph
as she continued, penitently 81 am
afraid have been to blame, but to-
morrow / will leaye you free to spend
the whole day with your books, for
Consin Joe has promised to drive me
over to Dapleston to do some shop
ping"
"Hang cousin Joe."
"Mr. Dorsey |" from Martha's aston
ished lips.
II beg pardon, L really-I hope you
will have a delightful time, Miss Dun
can. assure you l shall a-enjoy it
immensely heing left to my books and
-confound it | Excuse me t"
And before Martha could reply, Paul
Dorsey had left the room.
"How queer it is" soliloquized Mar
tina, as Paul's departing footsteps ech.
oed through the hall. 81 don't see
why he should dislike Joe SO Joe is
always such favorite with every one.
| hope haven't offended him. / am
sure didn't mean to-" And with rath-
er a puzzled look upon the fair young
face, Martha closed the organ.
That evening as Martha stood down
by the meadow gate caressing old Dox-
ey, the mare, her quick ears caught the
sound of d familiar tread advancing TO-
ward her, and moment after a voice
exclaimed
IT am an idiot, Miss Martha, but /
II hope you will forgive me. l
couldn't bear the idea of his monopo.
lizing you all day. | know you could
never think of an old bookworm like
myself-still I'll have been very hap
py, and I forget sometimes that-:hat
there is such difference between u.s."
Martha's cheeks had been growing
roster and roster, while strange, wild
JOY surged through her veins, as she
answered, her tones trembling slightly.
"Since | can remember Cousin Joe
and I have been playmates, and since
father died be has been so good and
kind to mother, helping ber about the
farm and in every way, that he has be.
come like a son to her, and as dear as
brother TO me. Dear Joe I don't
know what we should have done with.
out him." She paused, tears gather
ing in her pretty eyes. Paul drew
nearer, then hestitated, as Martha con-
tinued
"Joe is engaged to my dearest friend
and they are to be married in just six
weeks
81 am awfully glad mean l wish
them joy, and all that sort of thing"
and Paul Dorsey adv anced still nearer
the little figure into whose eyes sweet
shyness had stolen.
"Martha, do you think there is a
ghost of chance for me AS it's my
first attempt at anything Of the kind,
perhaps you will sum it up leniently,
and make my sentence as easy as you
can," then gath ring courage from
Martha's half averted face, and the ex-
treme plnkness of the one visible ear,
he laid his hand caressingly upon hers,
adding:
Martha, do you think you can for
give me for-for loving you ?"
'Why should 1 forgive you for what
I have done myself ?'' cam 3e the low
answer. followed naively by, ''But
did not know it until to-day when I
thought had offended you.'
"And-and you don't mind my be-
ing odd-or anything ?" stammered
Paul, iE his excessive joy.
"You are not bit odd," was the in
dignant reply ''I wouldn't have you
any different" and Martha touched
shyly the coat-sleeve in close proximity
to her waist, whereupon she Immediate
ly disappeared from view. ard from
some where in the region of Paul's
walstsoat pocket muffled little voice
might have been heard calculating
ooh, Paul suppose somebody is
looking p''
81 hope they are," was the auda
cious reply, succeeded by a second dis
appearance on Martha's part.
n n X
A week or so later stylishly-dress-
ed, middle aged lady was sitting tete-a.
tete with Mrs. Duncan, who was OBJ
serving
Dear me, Lucindy, you we no call
to thank me. / had nothing to do
rvho