The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1885-05-16
HE.COuSIMs.:

He had got himself into scrape, and,
manlike, had no definite idea how he was
to get out of it.
Last winter, in flush of enthusiasm,
he had rewarded Miss Mowbray's seraph-
ic smiles by an offer of his hand and for
tune, and she had accepted the prize
with a.show of tenderness that was per-
feet in its way.
The marriage, in all human probabili-
ties, would have been consummated, had
not the grim hand of Fate beckoned the
unfortunate Con up to little village on
fishing excursion ostensibly, but in re-
ality, to fall in love with pretty little
Dora Blair.
He met her at a village gathering, and
it being fixed principle of his to attach
himself to the prettiest girl in the room,
he adhered to his purpose with rigidity
which would have been extremely
amusing, had 1t not SO soon become seri-
Gus, for, after two or three meetings,
Master Con was fairly infatuated.
For week the dream was bright and
undisturbed.
Then Con began to feel uncomfor-
table.
With the prospect of being married
to one girl in month he was hardly dis
honorable enough to propose the same
course with another.
But being neither very clever nor or
iginal, he couldn't see the slightest loop
hole; so he fingered on at Dora's side,
and she, poor child was happy, even in
the uncertainty.
OF course people talked as they always
do talk, and some more daring than the
rest encompassed Con, and looked I'M
utterable things as they spoke of Dora's
parentage.
Lives with her father and mother?
Oh, yes; but then they don't happen to
be her father and mother. She is their
daughters daughter, and as to who was
her father-well, we don't know, and
the Blairs take care to give us no in
formation.
Then Con was angry.
lie was just young enough to be
QuiXotic, and, of course, he wanted to
marry her; 10 take his little star-faced
angel to himself; to transplant his little
field daisy to a more luxuriant soil
lie went up TO see her with letter
from Miss Mowbray in his pocket and
an ominously guilty feeling about his
heart.
Pretty Dora, sat with her white face
upraised, and her wondrous hair falling
around her like glorious golden cloud.
II thought you would. come" she
said, slyly, the color family flushing her
fair cheeks, and then, though Nature
hadn't made him so, Con felt more ut
terly foolish than ever.
AS If | could stay away" he ans
wered, half reproachfully. "At least,
until have TO, for Pm going away in
day or two."
Her eyes wandered down the road and
she leaned more heavily than ever against
the garden gate.
"oh! are you?" very faint and trem-
ulous.
Eyes, but I'll come back again II any
one wants me.
She stole one quick glance at him from
under her downcast lids.
DO you want me, Dora? win come
back TO you?'
No answer came from the parted lips,
but he knew she wanted, for, leaning
over the garden gate, he answered her
silence by saying: rtr l
VERY well, dear, IN be back in a
very little while, and you'll be waiting
for me, won't you?"
II was not very definite to say the
least of IL.
Con went home that night estatieally
but guiltily happy.
And when he reached home he found
a letter awaiting. him.
A letter from his mother, the dowager
Mrs. Creighton, demanding his instant
return.
Gertrude is very i'll" she said, sand
certainly your place should be beside the
lady who in four weeks will become
your wife. | have heard, but totally
disbelieve, rumOr of some girl whose
pretty face has attracted your attentions.
II might have troubled me, had I.not
known that ! could trust your dignity
as ec.1g mcrssr of the Crcigh.cn