The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1885-03-12

It Was evident that had been mistaken
for some one else-the brother OF the
one who had so singularly saluted mo.
and in all probability the clothes that /
was wearing had been the cause of the
mistake.
But what could do? It seemed to
! me to be absurd to say to Mabel, who
appeared to be unconscious of my en-
barrasment, or if she were conscious,
| attributed my silence to the inexperi-
ence of youth. LADY, am not he
who you think I am-the brother Of
the most beautiful being who has &C
lovingly embraced me. It Is true ]
wear his clothes, ornamented with fancy
buttons, and scarf, whose pin Of
hearts transfxed with arrows, has led
| to this mistake. But it was by an error
of him to whom they belong that I am
wearing them" It would have been
awkward to say the least, to have VOL
,,nteered this explanation in . crowded,
fashionable thoroughfare to ono to whom
ought to have been an utter stranger,
and further, 1 could not tell how she
might act-it might occasion q scene Of
| which I had the fear arising from mex
| perience.
therefore determined to maintain .
prudent silence and wait developments.
| The sister was already out OF sight,
probably in furtherauce of the desire so
hurfiealy expressed that her brother
should have the opportunity to win the
love of her fav0rite school friend Mabel.
! But was so disposed, had been the
brother that was supposed to be?
Mabel was beautiful beyond doubt,
with eyes that seemed to command rath-
er than WOO ones admiration, and with
figure perfect in movement as in grace
| and form.
But had seen the sister Of the un-
known whose clothes I wore. I had
felt her arms around my neck, had
seen her eyes look into mine, and had
felt the pressure of her lips, and was
conquered. I felt a new life borne
within me, new hopes, new aspirations
and quickened impulse rising into love
that made me blind to Mabel'sbeauty, had
she been Thousand times lovelier than
she was.
The silence, however, was at last
broken by my companion, who said,
"Your sister has been uneasy about
you, she was afraid that you would not
be here in time for the hop this eve.
ming"
Indeed" I said, scarcely venturing
to add more.
EYES," said my fair companion, "she
told me that you had over-worked your
| 81 of- hat
was yielding to the strain, but 1 think
her fears were groundless."
To this I scarcely ventured any re-
ply for fear of bun Cling. I had my
clew and that was this. There was
going to be chop" at the - Hotel
that evening, and my fair friend evil
IDENTIFY intended to attend in company
with the unknown" Fortunately I
had brought with me an evening suit
for change, [ determined therefore to
be there, and hoped, after an explain
alton with the Unknown, who I had no
doubt would be there, to obtain prop
er introduction to the sister, for whom
I had obtained most ardent feeling.
| AS soon therefore, IS [ could do so
with discretion, and cautiously weighing
every word said for fear of precipita-
ting premature disclosure, escorted
my companion to her hotel, and plead
ing an earlier engagement left her, no
which, however, she may have attribut-
ed to my excess of application to my
studies.
In the evening, after a careful toilet,
and with feverish and impatient pulse,
made my appearance at the 'hop,"
and looked anxiously round the crowd
ed room to see if they were there. I
soon saw them and could perceive that
they had recognized me even in my
change of clothes, for, with cheeks of
richest crimson, the sister of the "un-
known" was speaking to gentleman
whose snow of beard and venerable APP
pearance suggested the relationship of
father, and evidently was the subject
of conversation, for soon, with some-
what hesitating step, but calm demean-
or, he came towards me and said, ten
dering me his card
"Sir, / have not the pleasure of
knowing you, but have reason to be-
Leve that my son, who 1 am sorry to
say is slightly indisposed, the result OF
excessive study, m1stook your garments
for his own after bathing this morning
was this the case?"
| I informed him while Offering him
my card that such was the case. adding
that while regretting the cause, in the
illness of the son, I could but feel
pleased as it had procured me an in
PRODUCTION that hoped might be per-
mltted to continue.
Looking at my card he said. ''Whatl
are you the son OF my old friend, Hall
of Havertree?"
Il am" I said.
"Why," he replied, "many legal
bout we have had together; mos. glad
am to see YOU" And then he took
me to his daughter and her friends, and
though at first there was a shyness.
with her deepened color, yet soon it
moved away, while with the dance the
color became permanent, and many q
time since en- her arms have formed
a circlet for my neck. her sweet lips
pressed to mine, while her eyes gave
signal of her happiness reader,
don't be shocked, for ere another sum-
mer's sun had passed We two were man
aud wife.
A Sailors Description of His Bride,
Amember of the Seaman's Associs-
ton, lately married, is reported to have
I L