The Penn's Grove record., 1885-05-09

willows which borders it. Can 1t be
true that Helen Trevor is pinched with
poverty Why dld she not take jay,
with his still remaining thousand a
year? At least she could have made
her mother comfortable. There l go
again, always theoriZing as if she were
the woman I wish to Heaven she might
bel sight a waving twlg in the dis'
lance, and pick up my gun and u 1t
IN two; but a smothered squeak from
among the bushes lower down tells me
that have alarmed some one, and go,
hat in hand, to offer excuses.
"Diuntre. if / had shot herl' L gasp,
as Helen Trevor tries to escape without
speaking; but a fringe of her big sllk
shawI.rug catches a branch, some eVh-
disposed briars hold her fast.
did brighten You, reallyY" SIAM
meT, trying to help her.
mot in the least. / was only star
tied, thinking myself alone,' she an.
swers, keeping her face turned from me
and draggingeat her captors with shak-
ing hands which belied her assertion.
Don't tear the pretty things, !" l beg,
seeking for conversation; but she sud-
denly sinks down in a lovely heap, and,
hiding her beautiful face in her hands,
weeps 'like a Madeleine "FOr Heav-
EMS sake, Miss Trevor, tell me what
troubles you'll Can a man-can a sim
cere friend be of any service to your"
But she goes on weeping, the great
tears drench her tiny lace handkerchief,
and stream through her fingers. Ihen
she ceases as suddenly as she began,
and, looking up at me with her eyes
still full of tears, she laughs out, but a
little Historically
GLOW dare you look at me weeping Z
l will never forgive you. If l could
but do the d ana business, and turn you
iuto an u~nthinking as we'll as speeches.
ceGP'
But l am still your serf," l answer,
trying to adapt myself to her humor,
land of course should not dare to d.
what you forbid"
BY this time she is standing, with a
very April face, holding out her little
drenched handkerchief ruefully to me.
[ hasten to supply her with n of my
own more ~serviceable m~OucbOirs, with
which she dries her lovely eyes. Then
she dips her fingers in the stream, and
washes her face, and finally says
"Win l doP" .
"You look like lilies after rain" re-
ply, equal to the occasion.
NOW don't dare look sorry for me.''
she commands, tears trembling in her
voice. cor Iil do it again. Pm n of
| the naughty children who cry when they
are pitied."
"But, Miss Trevor" L urge, as she
is evidently going off without another
word, ''please take me SO far into your
! confidence as to let me be of service to
you. Tell me how | can serve you and
you'll do al idle fellow a good turn"
With genuine surprise she turns and
looks back at me.
stDo you know what you say? Do
YOU really mean it?" she asks. In a kind
of breathless way.
listen" 1 reply, taking her hand
almost roughly in my enforced self-con-
troll. 81 suppose l know you thoroughly
and you know tina it Is so-but, If a
genuine friendship can be of use to you,
now or in the future, accept it at my
hands, in Heavens name. PROMISED"
She is gazing eagerly in my face, and
her lovely lips culver as If she would
speak; but all at once the light goes out
of her eyes. She withdraws her hand,
and, giving me a cold salutation, she
turns again and leaves me.
| sit some time, my head giddy with
| foolish thoughts. If 1 marry her. can
[ teach her to love me afterwards Dare
| do this? Dare l bring such a creature
home to my mothers arms as her only
daughter? | almost feel the courage to
do it, to open my heart to the sweet old
mater, and beg her to help me to win
this glorious creature, to show her the
beauty of a noble life, and the happiness
| OF home. L will write tonight to the
mater-she will help me.
Next day, when the letters are dis
tributed, | announce my departure for
the morrow, and every one says the
usual civil things except Miss Trevor.
"News from your motherp" asks Mrs.
birmingham.
"a long letter, and she is plunged in
the depths of dark despair, as Doctor
Watts would say, because her jolly little
| companion, the fair Pilkington, has de-
cided to enter the Church-or, rather to
marry the curate. How to replace the
gentle Pill is rending the maternal
BOSOM"
s'That nice blonde creature, who was
as good as she was witty, and had such
a taste in breakfast-caps? Such com
~panionable bodies don't grow on every
bush" says the good birmingham mere.
"Why did she let her marryp"
"Probably it is her own matchmaking
that mater bewails. She is always in
triguing to throw her nice creatures in
the way of iniammable curates; and
when they are happy she gets time to
remember her own desOlat1on. You
don't know of an epitome of all the vir-
tues, with good looks, good taste, and a
ready wit, who is going a-begging for
three humid ed or so a year and unlim-
tied spelling at the hands of one of the
sweetest of old ladiesY"
Il know such a nice old thing, who
was Florry's finishing g~oyerness-but
then she's deadly pious, and she snuffs."
81 beg your pardon, but how can you
make such a SUGGESTION The mater
would sneeZe her dear old head off-and
she must have something agreeable to
look at, now she Is too lazy to visit
much. Pill is not a beauty. but she is
rather pretty, and as good as gold.
Think again."
81 believe l can find what you require;
/ win think 1t over, and write to your
mother before the P~ilkington's exodus
takes place"
But do not depart the next day, nor
for many day. Dick gets perfectly
unbearable with his slangy insinuations,
for he is deprived of his beloved through
Miss Trevor's eyere lllness-a nervous
fever, they say-and he revenges him
self on me.
eNot going up to Pau2" he says, in
pretended surprise. "Why, Milly Whit
man is there, and the Hethertons; and
the beauty is an awfully stunning friend
or cousin of Miss Dolly's, which would
ensure you no end Of innings"
s'Pau is detestable 50 early in the sea-
son, with tourists and roaring lions of
that sort" 1 answer lazly.
What dear little reasons the nice
little boy can give for the throwing of
dust in the general eye; but 1t IS the
.t l,,Bav oil tho oa-o tl,A -.