The San Antonio light. (San Antonio, Tex.) 1883-1886, 1885-04-13
rieurerte not only naa a VIII, but a

rleurette not oniy nad a VIII, but n
temper of her own.
Il will not said, until you give
me some message | can take to john
some word that will let him live on
hope: at least.
dWill You put me ashorcY' said Fleu-
rette stamping her foot.
My only answer WIS stroke of the
oars, which sent the boat some yards
further up the stream.
"Then I shall 20 myself" said Fleu-
rette; and before | could comprehend
her meaning. she simply Slipped over
board. and In a couple Of seconds Wgs
standing ON the river-bank, with Tia
water dripping from herpetticoats. She
darted across the meadow without even
looking back. and left me feeling SUI
premely ridiculous. The river was
scarcely knee-deep at this point. so she
ran no risk OF drowning, and only suf-
fered the Inconvenience of wet shoes
and skirts; but | could not divest my
self of the idea that had there been six
feet of water there, the beautiful little
vixen would have gone overheard Just
the same. had been completely out.
witted by girl of twenty-but then no
one could have imagine i that a young
lady of the present day. attired in an
elegant walking dress, would jump out
=
angry she might be. Yet | felt very
foolish as DIR lted back to Dalebury.
and doubted much If | had done Johns
cause any good.
after all said perhaps my boast
ed tact and diplomacy only pass muster
In the community of New Durham, and
| shall be a failure In England. | had
better take the first steamer and 90
back again."
met Fleurette in the road next morn
ing. Her face wore q demure smile.
"You treated me shamefully," said
81 should be the one to complain. |
think. The idea of attempting To keen
the against my will My boots were
spoiled; | was made most uncomfort-
able, and had to explain my draggled
appearance rs best | could"
But fancy my horror when you step
ped out of the boat, and picture what a
fool have felt ever sinCel Neverthe-
less, ! forgive YOU" said magnani-
mously.
"And forgive you" said Fleurette,
with deep meaning in her voice.
So we shook hands and renewed our
compact of friendship.
had now been at Dalebury nearly
month, and purposed, while had time
TO spare, to make little trip to the
Continent. | intended to stay there two
months, then return and begin work.
A few days before | left Dalebury, 1
heard that some one was i'll ut the house
at the corner; and, with the remem-
brance of Fleurette's wet shoes and
stockings before me, ! was very uneasy.
However, we soon aScertained that Mrs.
Dorvaux was the sufferer, and that DIR.
Bush, from the other end of the town,
had been called in. | knew this was
annnuinn 10 Inhn "a Ilr Rngh md
he were not the best of friends. In his
professional capacity John would, be-
lieve, have attended Flcurette herself
without show of emotion; so why not
Fleurette's MOTHER Nothing,of course,
could be said, as we live in free coun-
try, and people may employ what doc
tor they choose.
Evidently Mrs. Dorvaux's illness was
not of long duration, for | soon saw
Fleurette about again. She looked pale
and worn, probably from watching and
nursing her mother. My holiday at
Dalebury had now run down to its last
dregs, so when we met 1t was to say
goodbye.
"Can it never be, Fleurettep I whis-
pered, rs our hands clasped before part
"Never," she replied-"never. Good
bye-good-bye."
Poor old John poor little Fleurettel
What mystery was it that stayed the
happiness of these twop
/ returned home from my travels,
tired of idleness. Having heard of an
opening that promised well, ran down
to Dalebury to consult my brother
John and | were very bad correspond
ents, so had no news of the little town
since | sojOurned there. AS | passed
the house at the corner | saw IL WAS