Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1886-12-09

90 am airalu-l am afraid not
10Y mistook the question. pos.
he was looking gravely a. me wait
.hg MY spoken answer like INV. wr;f.
Yen answer, was not very much 10 the
point. Ispoke desperately.
what Is the good OF it ALP, said
| w nat does 1t matter about the md.
eiai system, and who has the control
o, taxationg What does II matter
ABOUT the Parliament, and the courts
ana all the dull old laws? One can't
really care for the Constitution.
had time while he sat suryevinp
me TO feel ashamed of my batyish,
passionate speech.
nat made you think of devot,no
yourself TO che study of Constitution.
al hlstory2" he said, with gentle slr.
prise. His gentleness seemed like, sat.
ire. My eyes, in spite OF myself filled
MIN tears. Suddenly he looked away
ION me. de asked me no more ues.
.ions, FOR the next five minutes he
talked rapidly, without pause.
when l resolutely blinked back INV
tears and glanced at him, he was dill.
gently distsuring my history paper
with crooked circles. and his face was
less brown than rudy.
Alter that day his eyes ceased TO
twinkle when he looked at me; he
passed me over in class and put the
puzzling questions to Nell and Claudia
and was almost gentle when | went
alone to him. He gave up asking me
TO expound this theory and that srgu-
ment which he had failed to follow;
ana when he was forced to condemn
my work, he worded his blame nildly
ana looked away as he spoke.
lie has forgiven you, Cis," said the
girls. He completely ignores you now
--for which you are thankful, Ciss are
you not?"
Very thankful" | said. / said it
lmpressieely, for needed to convince
myself as well as the girls.
was inconsistent, for I be-
gan TO wish that he would find
me amusing again. and to feel pangs
OF disappointment in class when he
passed me over, and to desire, with
quite unreasonable eagerness, that he
should look at me again, even if his
eyes would have laughter in their
depths.
But every week the laughter seemed
further away. And if be were grave
IN class, he was grayer still on Satur-
days. He gazed steadily at my pa
per as he discussed it, and discussed
1t as though in dream. He no long
er Thought me flippant, and conceited
and foolish, and tried to cure me. He
no longer thought OF me at ALL
1t was only at the end of the term
that he set aside his perfunctory tu-
tor manner.
Are you going home, Miss Crystal"
he asked me hesitatingly.
"1es. Not at once though. For a
week or two am going to stay with
| Claudia-Miss Harrison, / mean.
!, Then she will come home with me-"
II may be spending my holidays
near you. Perhaps-possibly.-we
may meet each other"
''Oh yes, very possibly" / said.
And suddenly / felt light-hearted at
the thought of holidays. There was
a little pause, and l arose and held
out my hand.
1t is somewhere in Devonshire, is
it not" hesaid.
| "What?"
! "Your home"
eyes. Axetown East. Quite a lit
tie place on the coast. Have you
friends there, Mr.. Tudor
| mo" he said doubtfully. 81 be-
lieye-I believe the fishing is good?"
And it did not strike me as strange
that he should be going to place in
/ which he had no friends, and of which
Z no ell ~
county.
But did not tell the girls what he
had told me. 1t was only at the end
of my visit to audia that i broke
the news to her. / broke it casually.
''He came for the fishing" / said.
"And father and the boys seem--ac-
cidentally--to have come across him"
Never mind, said Claudia.
no, it does not matter" IsaiG re-
signedly.
But Claudia was sympathetic next
day when we arrived at Axetown East.
In a short fortnight Mr.. Tudor had
| made great strides toward friendship
| with all at home. He had found fa-
vor with father and the boys; his
/ hotel was comfortless, and he de-
serted it frequently He came and
/ went at all hours, laughed and smoked
with the boys and talked sensibly ike
an old friend with father. He was
more bronzed than ever; for fort
| night be had been fishing and rowing
and walking with energy. He laughed
as had sometimes suspected hecould
laugh. He had left his tutor manners
behind him with cap and gown. Sud
| denly now, at the end of fortnight,
he had grown tired of fishing and OF
lonely boating and walking. He haunt
ed our house. He seemed to be al
ways where was. Claudia was sym.
pathetic. And, somehow, J felt trail
torous when received her SYM
pathy.
It was a still, warm Summer even
ing a day or two after our ar
rival. We were in the drawing-room
down. stairs; the French windows were
open wide. Father was showing Mr..
Tudor some views of places abroad
where he had been stationed at differ
| ent times. Suddenly, on the still air,
| came voice from thegarden. Claudia
was coming up the path with my
brother George.
1
ait dosen't seem quite modest thing
to say q man bushes when you speak
| to him. Poor Cisl she has never been
happy in his presence since. He will
spoil her holidays. We try to praise
him sometimes, but as for Cts. she will
never say anything good OF him. She
| really dislikes him now"
'That's pity" said George, 'tor
Tudor-poor beggar-is in love with
her."
/ do not think father had heard; he
was engrossed in photographs oil
China. ! did not venture to look at
Mr.. Tudor. / do not think that he
looked at me. But an anecdote which
father was relating was new to US
when he told it again next day.
Ii was an hour or two later that we
found ourselves alone together But
Georges words were ringing IN my
brain still. II seemed natural, now
that we we're alone, that he should so
back at once straight to those words.
1t is true" he said gently. 81 did
| not mean to tell you yet. | meant TIC
try to win your love first"
did not speak. He was standing
near me by the open window, and he
took my hand and let it rest in his,
"Do spoil your holidays" he ask
ed gravely. care you unhappy, s:sI
your friend says, because am hereI
hesitated for a moment. dc
not think that Claudia knows" an
swerel. II
"Cicely, am very bold" he said
eaeerly-''very bold to speak to you
now so soon. If | make You unhappy
/ will go. III have no chance-n'1I