The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1885-07-23

entreaties and his avowals with studied
GOODNESS and Indifference At first 1
objected seriously to this role as placing
me in q very unpleasant position, but
Mr.. Ashford insisted that it was the
only way in which I could thoroughly
understand his feelin gs or make my he
roine perfectly true to nature, so I yield
ed.
He made it rule after that to call
me Daisy and he soon suggested that I
should call him Lyman, but that seemed
unnecessary and I never tried it; at
least, not in his presence.
I would not have minded his calling
me Daisy, for he had such lovely way
of saying it, i'll had not begun to
dislike the girl so intensely.
1 was always wondering how
he happened to fall in love with her and
why he was so constant to such blind,
ungrateful creature. Often, when lie
would say that his only hope of future
happiness lay in winning her heart, l
would turn away my head to hide the
tears in my eyes, tears of pity for him
and of anger against her, poor fool.
It may seem strange, but it is never
tl.eless true, that I found it quite i'm.
possible to work at my story any more.
Notwithstanding the many advantages I
now enjoyed, found myself more at
loss than ever. My heroine, whom I
have modelled after Daisy, displeased
me-my hero, who was of course Mr..
Ashford, was entirely too good for her
so how could I marry them at tho
end? I did think of introducing anoth
er character-a girl to whom his heart
should turn, because of her sweet, un
| selfish sympathy with all his sorrows,
| but-well, I put the whole thing aside,
| to be finished in the winter.
One morning Mr.. Ashford made his
! appearance with very melancholy
! air.
my work is completed" he said.
my vacation is over and I must go back
to the city. cannot tell you how sor-
ry I am, nor how much I shall miss
these "sittings." And, by the way, is
| not the story nearly finished? I was
hoping you would read it to me before I
left
"Oh, no! not now-it-it is not ready
yet," I exclaimed, II have not written
much lately"-and there I stopped,
COu1uSCA NY "y O"A AAu1AoS4OAs OuV
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 affairs?
I have written to Daisy for the
last time, if she still refuses me) and on
her decision my whole future now rests.
If shs is at last won to say yes, you
know how happy shall be. If not, I
cannot stay in the city where must
! meet her continually. I shall accept
my uncle's offer, give up my profession
and go to Germany with him, probably
for the rest of my life."
He paused, looking at me expectant-
~, but was silent. OF course, I sup.
pose it was sympathy, but it seemed to
me as if could never be so utterly
wretched in all my life as was at the
/ moment. Finally, realizing that some
thing must be said, I contrived to get
off two or three sentences, with 'best
Wishes" and ''deep interest in his well
fare," and the like, but it was very
hard work.
However, he seemed quite satisfied,
for he thanked me, and then he added:
II shall not hear from Daisy before
Friday, but whatever the result may b
7 must come back to tell you. So
please meet me here on Saturday after
| noon, then if I am happy shall claim
your congratulations, and if am to be an
exile, I shall at least have the consola-
ton of hearing friendly good bye.
Au revoir, kindest of friends.
He was gone, and T burst into tearsl
| For long time I remained sitting in
! the little arbor where he had left me,
trying to compose myself sufficiently to
! return to the house.
Then went up to my room, and tell
ache and could not be disturbed, I shut
myself up and began to think.
My meditations during that day ana
the next made one point perfectly clear
to me. did not want Mr.. Ashford to
marry Daisy. But then, on the other
hand, I did not want him to go to Ger
| many. I began to feel positive hatred
! for that girl, and to wish that could
warn Mr.. Ashford against her, for I
was quite sure she could never make him
happy. 49,
In this way the hours dragged on.
| Saturday afternoon came at last, and
found me in the arbor waiting for him
| with almost uncomfortable anxiety.
He made his appearance punctually,
and as watched him coming along the
path that led to the arbor I forgot in
one moment all the rules of conduct I
had laid down for myself-all the elabc.
rate speeches had prepared, and
springing up held out my hand with
breathless:
"Well!"
"No, it isn't WE'LL Daisy has not &C.
cepted me, "he said, as he took my hand.
"Now, the only thing I can do is to go
away as soon as possible. Don't you
think SOP"
did not intend to say it, Ishall al
ways insist that nothing was further
from my intentions that moment; but I
suddenly burst out with: mo! don't
don't go!"
He was still holding my hand, and
when I said these words he put his
other arm very gently around me and
whispered: IF you want me I will
stay"
I am going to omit the greater part
of our conversation that afternoon in the
arbor, as it was strictly personal and
private. But ought to say that Ly.
man confessed to me that he had been
guilty of a great deception. There was
no such person as Daisy, and it was I,
myself, with whom he had been in love
all the time. OF course I forgave him,
although don't think it was quite fair;
and to inveigle Susan, too!
But as we talked over our "sittings,"
exclaimed ruefully: "And so my love
story has not been written after all ?"
Lymon smiled as he answered tender
ly:
"Your love story has just begun. dear
Margie, and hope it will never come
| to an end"
And T 1on,t hn1iovo r. will