Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1885-06-08

n1caElve about such otIoIr1
Well. Mr. Ashford is. any way. and
I'm glad Of Il, because now can ten
you all about his feelings, persisted
Susan.
But 1 don't think / ought 10 listen.
Susan indeed, I'm sure ought not. since
it is not meant for me to hear, / said.
and from this resolution ali Susan's per-
suasions failed to move me.
The next day, however, she began
trinmphantly: .sWell. then, Miss Mar
Gle. it's all settled, and / hope you won't
think I've been too meddles0me; but
wanted 20 help you along. I've spoken
20 Mr.. Ashford about your story, and he
says that If you'll allow him tO give you
sitting that's what he called til
every day, he viii be most happy TO pose
as hopeless lover Those are his very
words, miss, aud ] do think it's very
kind of him.
'tOh. Susanl'' / exclaimed, In alarm.
what have you been saying to Mr.. Ash
forda 4 am afraid you have been terri
bly, indiscreet!"
Not bit, Miss Margie, not bit!
I've only interested him in your story.
Now you just give him half an hour or
SO every morning, and see what help it
will be-
It is needless to repeat all the CONVEX
sation between Susan and myself on this
subject. Let it suffice that / was won
over ut last, and daily interview was
agreed upon, wherein Mr.. Ashford was
to enact the part of despairing lover.
and was at liberty to sketch from life.
Our first sitting" as we agreed to
call our meetings. would have been en-
barrassing as well as awkward. but
must own that Mr.. Ashford behaved
splendidly. He thanked me for nv
kindness in allowing him to be Of some
service to me, and then, after while,
be began to speak in the most charming
way about the young lady with whom he
was in love, and whom, for convenience
sake, he called Daisy, although he said
that was not her true name.
/ began to change my opinion of Mr..
Ashford from that day. He was certainly
very interesting man, and wondered
why that stupid Daisy could not see it.
Soon found that these 'ssittingsn
grew more and more interesting as the
days went on, until could hardly think
of anything else, much to my own sur
prise. And what q difference between
the language of genuine feeling and the
poor CUunterfeits over which / had
labDred so long and SO vainly2 BY this
time, too. we had somewhat changed
the manner of our interviews. At first
had taken copious notes, but latterly
Mr.. Ashford had persuaded me to leave
the notes until was alone, and to de-
vote the time spent with him to con-
versatiOn as being more suggestive.
Beside / was now, also by his advice,
playing the part Of the obdurate Daisy
and receiving his entreaties and his
avowals with studied GOODNESS and in-
difference. At first objected seriously
to this role as placing me in very
unpleasant position, but Mr.. Ashford in
sisted that it was the only way in which
] could thoroughly understand his feel
ings or make my heroine perfectly true
to nature, and 50 yielded He made it
q rule after that to call me Daisy, and he
soon suggested that should call him
Lyman, but that seemed unnecessary and
/ never tried it; at least, not in his pres
ence.
would not have minded his calling
me Daisy, for he had such lovely way
of saying it, if had not begun to dis
like the girl so intensely. ] was always
wondering how he happened to fall In
love with her, and why he was so con-
slant to such blind, ungrateful crea-
ture Often, when he would say that
his only hope of future happiness lay in
winning her heart, would turn away
my head to hide the tears in my eyes,
tears of pity for him and anger against
her, poor fool.
1t may seem strange, but it is never
theless true that | found it quite impos-
sible to work Mt my story any more.
Notwithstanding the many advantages /
now enjoved, | found myself more at q
loss than ever NY heroine, whom ! had
modelled after Daisy, displeased me-my
hero, who was of course Mr.. Ashford,
was entirely too good for her--so how
could marry them at the enda did
think of introducing another character
girl to whom his heart should turng
because of her sweet, unselfsh sympathy
with all his sorrows, but-well, put the
whole thing aside, to be finished in the
winter.
One morning Mr.. Ashford made his
UppcdIAuCc y liza = NcNy mCAhuCuut4 uANs
: My work is completed he said:
My vacation is over, and / must 90
back to the city. cannot tell you how
sorry am, nor how much shall miss
these 'sittings. And, by the way, Is not
the story nearly finishedg / was hoping
you would read Il to me before left
ss0h, no not n0w--it- il is not ready
yet. exclaimed; II have not written
much lately and there / stopped, con-
fused by my own admission. But he
went on quietly: You are quite right.
Put your work aside for time, and you
will take it up with new vigor. And
now, my kind friend, will you let me
occupy this last hour Of the many We
have spent together with my own atEairsg
/ have written to Daisy--for the last time.
If she still refuses me and on her
decision my whole future now rests. If
she is at last won to say yes, you know how
happy 1 shall be. If not, cannot stay