The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1885-04-29
81 don't propose to be your Fatima,

wrinkle in Mr.. Coleman's forehead
deepened into a trench, his brown face
flushed like an oak in October.
please lay aside paradoxes, Rufelle.
DO you mean you don't wish to marry
me? Rumor has told me as much"
In truth Miss Rue had meant nothing
of the kind; but her lovers insulting
tone exasperated her into silence. Had
it come to this that she could not wink
without first consulting his lordship?
Her blue eyes flashed ominously; the
steel hook in her fingers darted in and
out of her crocheting with murderous
rapidity.
Rumor has told me as much" re-
peated Mr.. Coleman as impressively as
if he had been addressing a jury.
And you let people talk about me,
John, and listen to what they sayl"
might have known that a girl
who would not respect my dignity could
not value my esteem. Tyrant or not,
Rufelle, at least I've no desire to rivet
CALLING letters. Henceforth you are
free to smile upon Mr.. Lynde or any
other gentleman"
Had he omitted the last sentence, af-
fectionate, kindly little Rue could even
then have "made up" with John, but
this was too much for her temper.
Snatching the golden circlet from her
engagement finger, she flung it at her
lover, with cheeks aflame.
"Take back your ring" cried she;
" the girl who wears it should be saint
or a simpleton, and I'm neither. Good
bye, John"
Auburn head erect, chin in air, she
swept out of the room with all the
stateliness possible to a slight girl of
five feet two. She felt hers to be a
righteous indignation. John has no
reason--no earthly reason-to treat her
so. She would not personate patient
Griselda for the amusement of the
village.
John wants to bend the whole
world to his WILL" unused she, aDgrily,
peeping through her chamber blind as
he stalked away chewing his black
mOustache; "he wants to bend the
whole world to his will, and won't be
bent. Our engagement is broken, and
Pm glad of it."
For fully fifteen minutes she was I'M
equivocally glad.
John Coleman thought he too was
glad. Walking fiercely on, he squared
his broad shoulders, and told himself
that the engagement was a mistake
an error of Judgment. A grave. self
made man of thirty should have been
wiser than to trust his happiness to the
keeping of gay, capricious maiden.
Why had he been so dotingly fond of
the child, so hoodwinked by her coquet-
teries Blind, driveling idiot that he
was, the sooner he was buried in the
law the better. The mans soul was
hot within him. He reviewed his lonely,
joyless orphanhood, his sharp tussle
with the world to wiring from it his
present competence. Not until the
latter had been secured had he allowed
himself to think of marrying this
bright young beauty, who as a school
girl had first captivated his imagination.
To have asked Rue Haywood to be-
come his wife while he had no adequate
means former support would have been,
in his opinion, dastardly and contempti-
BILE. No, he awaited the time when
he could offer her a name and position.
He had wooed her honorably, and from
that day to this had hardly as much as
glanced at any other girl. That he had
not glanced at any other girl had nc
bearing whatever upon the case, yet the
lawyers stern eye moistened as he
thought of the three months of happi.
ness which had been his before the
brilliant new organist appeared upon
the scene with the graces and accom-.
plishments admired by ladies, and
scorned by himself, matter-of-fact John
Coleman. From the outset he had dis.
Cd tho r,o1lantfc inf nc
over Rue, with what reason the sequel
had proved.
Shocked at his partners i'll looks, Mr.
Riggs, in greeting him, asked if he had
had a chill.
eyes, something of that nature, y was
the grim reply How about the suit
of ingalls, versus Wade? l find flaw
in the indictment"
Mr.. Coleman was in the mood fol
finding flaws. His habitual self-contro
had deserted him. Once he nearly an
initiated Mr.. Riggs for casually men
tioning Mr.. Lynde and his reported en-
gagement.
"Ohol recollect now Coleman haC
lien on the young woman himself
Queer | should have forgotten" museC
the discounted advocate, dipping his
pen in the ink.
That night Mr. Coleman had a chill
no metaphorical heart ague, but gen
uine physical, bone-shaking rigor that
demanded blankets and hot bricks and
heroic dose of quinine.
He's caught malaria from some OF
those COMPOUNDED western bog-holes,
said the doctor, aside to the landlord
Unless we break it up, he's in for {
fever. See that he has good nurse
I'll be round in the morning"
The landlord himself sat up with the
patient, and busy night he had unit
daybreak, when Mr.. Coleman sank into
a browse. The weary watcher i'm
proved his opportunity to steal away
for nap, and sent his son to take hi
place by the bedside. After an hours
sleep the sick man awoke refreshed
the ringing in his ears greater, but thu
! throbbing of his temples less, the pair
, in his limbs no longer absolutely un
: bearable.
, " Heigho! that you, Harry?" h,
| said, catching sight of the boy munich
5 ing an apple for entertainment. "WherC
| were you when l came home last night
l didn't see you"
SAT st. Marks, sir, blowing the or
r gan. Mr.. Lynde has hired me for thu
| quarter"
"Oh, he has, has hep" Mr.. Cole