The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-04-18


| so very little about him during the past summer.
And yet he had been part Of her life ever since
| she could remember When she went to district
school, John, three or four years older than her
self, had been her companion. John had brought
her fruit and flowers and guided her sled when
| she coasted, and waited on her whims like a
faithful dog and she had taken all Johns serv-
ices as simply and AS much as if they were mat
| ter OF right, as she ate her breakfast. But when
Miss Amory came into her life John went ont OF
It. She had no need of him, then; and he had
/ been very busy all summer, and was wise enough
/ beside, to know when not to intrude.
| But now he came in, IN the October afternoon.
| to say something which he began to think he had
left unsaid too long He had entered by the
| back way, and had seen that Mrs Allen was in
the depths of sweet pickle. He was, therefore,
| not likely to be interrupted. Here sat Man,
| piquant, willful, dark-eyed, roosevelt Man,
| with look on her face which, to say the least
offered no vantage ground to sentiment Some
| thing might have whispered to John that the oc-
casion was not favorable-but though he was
country bred, he was, after all, no coward, and
| he chose to make his own occasions rather than
wait for them. Nan looked up, as he came in,
somewhat lstlessly.
| .'Ah Sit down, John. No doubt the stove
will make your head ache. 1t does mine but we
4 must get used to it."
| John sat down; but the warmth of which he
/ began to speak was not that of the stove; and
| suddenly Nan found herself listening with a
curious interest while he told her that he had
been IN love with her ever since he could re-
1 member Nan was not self-conscious GIRL and
she had really never thought of John Payne In
this way. She looked curiously at him as he
| spoke. She had never considered what he was
| like before. He was a strong resolute, hand
some fellow There was no denying that he was
| handsomer than Quincy Amory But then
| his coat And his hands We're hard, and there
was-yes, there was-the slightest suspicion of
| what Mr.. Amory would have called a Yankee
| twang In his voice. And as for loving him-why
of course she loved John; she always had, but it
wasn't III that way. If it had only been Quincy
Amory!
"Why, I'm sure don't know, John" she said
| candidly, when his winged words" had been
| spoken. Il never thought of your feeling like
| this. don't see why you weren't contented to
| go on just as we always have That was nice
enough, I'm sure.D
Mice enough for YOU" John answered, firmly,
but not for me. It's very little I've seen of you
the past summer, and I've found out that l want
good deal more"
Nat shook her curly head and sat for space
deep in consideration.
II don't seem able to think it out quite so sud-
denly" she said. Give me till tomorrow. Only
one thing, John; if I said yes you would have to
go away from here"
.'Yess' John said, inquiringly.
Yes, certainly, John. dislike rag carpets
Il hate braided mats-I loathe alright stoves.
| Life here is stagnation. If If what you wish
were ever to come to pass, it could not be until
after you had made life for yourself some
where else. You are clever enough for that
aren't you Johnp and she looked him over
| refectngly.
| Eyes, believe am, he answered with half
yexed laugh for this was not at all like the love
| scene with his thornless rose which he had pict
| ured to himself II had sometimes thought my
| self that might make broader life somewhere
else, but perhaps was too impatient to win my
wife to be willing to go away from certainty,
and wait, heaven knows how long"
well, but, John dear, that's the only way you
| could win me- There is only certainty and
| that is that / will not live here. Now go
| away, and III try to think it ali out by to-mor-
| row night
1--WE been asking Nan to marry me-" John
said, pausing in the kitchen to speak to Mrs Al
len on the way out,
you don't say so! Will shea"
II don't know yet l shall find out to-mor-
row.
And John Payne went his way. Mrs. Allen
understood Nan well enough not to speak to
her, and that night the girl did more serious
| thinking than she had ever done before She
sent her thoughts back through her seventeen
years of life, and she found John Payne all
along the way. She was very used to john eer-
| tainly. But did she love hima She was not
| sure. Perhaps she felt all that other girls did
| who rarried-and it was only the same thing
| in her which sighed for impossible rugs and piet
ures and old china, that cried out now for a
more romantic love, more dazzling lover.
| Any way, no one but John was likely to love
her, she thought, and if she ever Were to get
out of Ryefeld, it must be by means OF his
taking her. With that for a conclusion to her
thinking, she went to sleep.
Late in the next afternoon John came again
Weir he said, standing before her and put
| ting out his strong hands.
| 'Oh, sit down, John, you make me nervous
standing there. I've thought it all out. Pm
| pretty sure like you well enough, but can't
stay here 1t must all depend on whether you
| make a home somewhere else"
| johns eyes grew cold and his lips stifened
little.
you mean that you will promise to marry
me after have gone out into the world and won
such a measure of success as seems to you worth
| acceptingF
Yes, John"
you are shrewder young lady than gave
| right enough, no doubt. You hate this narrow
| life and all its small economies. Why, indeed
| then, should you bind yourself to live in it, l
have made my plans. l thought once of study
ing law, but that is slow business have writ
! ten to-day to Uncle Jared Smith, my mothers
| brother. He is one of the great merchants of
| New York, and ne has always promised to find
me place with him if l would come. He has
no son of his own, and there would be reasona-
into the firm. Would that suit youg"
| Mans eyes fairly danced. New York; Why
| that would even be better than Boston!
.''Oh, you dear John" she cried eagerly. "And
| when will you got"
"In the latter part of November, if Uncle
Jared is ready for me then. Are you in such
desperate hurry for me to leave2"
| "Oh, John. don't look at me like that The
sooner you go the sooner it will come to pass
won't It'll"
And John smiled little grimly, and made up
! his mind that it was really just as well they
were not to be married at present Perhaps his
| thorny little sweetheart would care more for
| him after she had tried for year or two what
| life would be like without him. Even now she
gave him all she had to give Was it we'll to
| complain of a rose-tree because it could not be
an oak, especially if one loved the roseg
For the next month all went well. Uncle Jared
| rejoiced by letter over the prospect of having
| his nephew with him. All Johns arrangements
were made for leaving home, and Mans gay
smiles frightened the gloom of the season; for
| Nan was in love with the prospect of ultimate
New York, if with nothing else And so the