The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1885-11-13

village after your trunk, and You'll
Just stop along with us aud be as
welcome as my own son, if | had one.
and Marthy and | will do our best to
make uncomfortable" andmotherly
Mrs. Duncan laid her hand with an
approving pat upon Paul Dorsey's
slightly STOPPING shoulders, while he,
%colorlng somewhat, cndeavored to
thank her for her warm hospitality,
but was cut short with:
"Bless you, its no put out, we have
lots OF room, and it will be real pleas
ure to me to see Lucindy's son max
ing himself to home in my house"
And thus it vas that Paul Dorsey
became a guest at Willow Brook
Farm.
That evening after her visitor had
retired Mrs. Duncansaid to her daugh-
ter.
"Poor, young man, he hasn't got q
bit OF appetite. l don't wonder Lu-
cindy is fretted about him. SIG writes
that he is always that taken up with
books, that she can hardly ever coax
him to go about with young folks and
enjoy himself. I've been thinking
Marthy, If you was just to kind Of
make believe you need his help now
and again about the garden and such,
1t would do him q sight of good, and
he'd never suspect it was for the sake
OF his health" and Mrs. Duncan
laughed a low, pleased laugh, at the
thought ofthe deception, while Martha
exclaimed:
"Why mother, you are getting to be
neutrality-suspicious.. But | am afraid
it won't work, he's $3.50 odd"
Paul Dorsey had been told to make
himself perfectly at home;so themorn-
ing afte" his arrival he withdrew from
the breakfast table to his own room,
and forthwith commenced to unpack
his books preparatory to good days
study. Everything was at last ar
ranged to his satisfaction, but some
how his tho lgiits were strangely wan
dering this DAY, although not a sound
disturbed the the cool quietness of his
surroundings. A pair OF blue eyes
seemed to glance mockingly from the
musty pages hefnin would master, and
he caught himself repeating aloud the
old-fashioned name of 'Marthy,n
which took unto itself the sweetest of
sounds by reason of it's connection
with SO pretty an owner. Suddenly,
with a thud, the book fell from his
hand, as, exclaiming: "By Jove.. that's
her voice." Paul Dorsey, with one
stride, was at the window making sad
havoc of the dainty dimity curtains
with his clumsy hands.
Martha, accompanied by q tall,
stalwart fellow. vas passing down the
garden path, her infectious laughter
floating merrily upon the balmy airas
shechatted away to the young man at
her side, who appeared to be enjoying
the subject under discussion as herself.
AS they disappeared from view, Paul,
with rather Il blank look, resumed his
seat and sought to apply himself to his
interesting task, but lot with the old
ardor did he work, and for the first
time that he could remember, he list
encd anXiously for the bell to summon
him to luncheon.
The days slipped into weeks. and still
Paul Dorsey remained a guest at Viii
low Brook Farm, audit becamenoun-
usual sight to see him obedicntly fol-
lowing Martha's directions concerning
the %uprooting OF certain weeds, or the
fastening OF some vine more secure
ly about its support. An honest,
brown tinge had replaced Paul's
once sallow complexion, and the
bookshelf, they had become sec
ondary, a more potent charm having
outrivaled them. Mrs. Duncan CON
graduates herself upon herhappyfo fore
thought that she was working such a
change in her friends son, and Martha
admitted with Il slight blush, that Mr..
Dorsey was getting to be almost as
handsomea as her cousin Joe-her beau
ideal OF manly beauty heretofore.
The u burned scorching hot upon
the broad gravel path Just outside Of
the farms pretty parlor, but within
that quaint room a restful coolness
held sway. Lounging idly in the
depths of a willow chair, was Paul
while Martha, seated at theold organ,
drew from its aged keys Il low, plain
tive melody. AS the last note died
softly away, whirling round upon
her seat, Martha exclaimed:
"Do you know, Mr.. Dorsey, you
have been wasting your whole morn
ing? | don't believe you have look
ed at a book for two days''-thisl last,
it must be owned, with Il slight air of
triumph as she continued, pe%nitently:
II ain afraid have been to blame,
but tomorrow will leave you free to
spend the whole day with yourbooks,
for Cousin Joe has promised to drive
W. to Dapleson to do shop
ping"
"Hang Cousin Joe"
"Mr. Dorsey" from Martha's as
tonished lips.
81 beg pardon. rcally-Ihopeyou
will have a delightful time, Miss Dun
can. assure you | shall a-cnjoy it
immensely, being left to my books and
-%confound it! Excuse mel"
And ere Martha could reply, Paul
Dorsey had LETT the room.
GLOW queer heis," soliloquized Mar
tina, as Paul's departing footsteps
echoed through the hall. II don't see
why he should dislike Joe so; Joeis al
ways such a favorite with everyone.
| hope haven't offended him. 1 am
sure | didn't mean to-" And with
rather a puzzled look upon her fair
young face, Martha closed the organ.
That evening as Martha stood down
by the meadow gate caressing old
Doxey, the mare, herquick ears aught
the sound of a familiar tread advanc-
ing towards her, and Il moment after
a voice exclaimed:
al am an IDIOT, Miss Martha, but l
II hopeyouwillforgive me. Icouldn't
bear the idea OF his monopolizing you
all day. knowyoucouldneverth think
OF an old book worm like myself
still II have been very happy, and l
forget sometimes that-that there is
sucha difference between us"
Martha's cheeks had been growing
roster and roster, while a strange, wild
49,