The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1886-01-08
A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS,

~ wy JOsy SAOW0 MhSh
stood waiting in the Brackenbridge
Depot for the z o'clock train, that
frosty November morning.
One might have thought that 2 was
rather an early hour for SO largo and
exceptionally gay a gathering-es.
pecially as only one of the party was
to take the train, the remaining six.
teen having assembled merely to 'see
her off,"
But fora better informed person the
tact that that one was Ida Terrill,
would have been q sufficient explana.
tion.
That young lady had come to
Brackenbridge on a visit to her aunt,
four months previous; and Bracken.
bridge society had given her the warm
est welcome imaginable. There had
been q furious run of parties and pic
MICS all summer. Breckenridge had
never been so lively; for Miss Terrill
had "taken" immensely and society
had exerted itself IN her behalf.
The heroine Of the occasion stood
in the midst of the chattering throns,
entirely bewitching in her snug brown
suit, tossing back Laughing replies to
the chorus Of sallies aimed at her..
Charley Whitlock was pretending to
cry into his pocket.handkerchief.
George Becker, lolling across q seat
with his hair rubbed up wildly, was
stimulating q fit of Insanity brought
about by Miss Terrill's departure.
The train came putting up.
"You'll surely come back next sum-
mer?" cried all the girls together.
There was q confusion Of kisses and
hand shaking, the masculine portion
affecting violent Indignation that they
were excluded from the former.
Miss Terrill's uncle, who was to see
her safely to the junction at Crosby,
where she. was to change cars, hurried
her into the train. And the tiutter of
n handkerchief from wiudow was all
that was left to thegroup on the plat.
form.
Charley Whitlock and Lizzie Cavins
walked away together, of course.
They had been engaged all summer,
and were to be married soon.
"Poor Arthur" said the girl, look
ing after q tall form which had detach-
ed itself from the group and was TAX
ing solitary course up the street.
"Yes, poor Gifford!" said her lover
compassionately. "What made her
throw him over, anyhow? I've never
had the rights OF the case; but sup
pose you know?"
eyes; she told me all aboutit. She's
the most conscientious girl in world
Ida Terrill. She refused him simply
because she wasn't quite sure she liked
him we'll enough to marry him. She
said she'd be doing him q wrong if she
married him without being certain.
So she rejected him."
Charley gave musing whistle.
"she's rejected mighty nice fellow"
he declared,
eyes, l told her so. I tried to make
her change her mind, but she wouldn't t.
Do you know-I oughtn't to say it
but I've imagined two or three times
that she had come to care for him q
little? You see, the longer you know
Arthur Clifford the better you like him,
and it was two months ago that she re-
fused him. Well, don t know!" Lizzie
concluded, obviously.
Ida Terrill, meanwhile, was spinning
toward Crosby. Her uncle had taken
from the train boy a magazine for her
and a newspaper for himself, and was
already absorbed in the political
aspect.
Ida turned the leaves of the PAM
phlet listlessly, closing it at last and
allowing her eyes to wander among
her fellow-passengcrs-rather an un-
interesting set, she concluded. Then
she rested her elbow on the window
sill and her pretty chin on her hand,
and looked out somewhat absently.
Had she made q mistake? she
thought. Was she sorry she had re-
fused him?
No, surely not. How could she
have accepted him when she had not
cared for HIM? There were plenty of
proofs that she had not cared for him.
According to the best authorities
she should have turned red and pale
/ by turns at his approach, and her
heart should have substantially in
creased it's palpitations; she should
have been madly jealous at seeing him
with anybody else; she should have
thought of him by day and dreamed
of him by night-if she cared for him.
But she had none of these symptoms.
OF course, she reflected, as she sped
by houses. and fences, and fields, she
had appreciated him. Sheh had known
AS who did not?-that he was very
pleasant, very gentlemanly, very en-.
PERTAINING. And his behavior. after
his rejection, had been nothing less
than sublime. He had, as it were, ig-
nored it, continuing to devote himself
toher with the same genial willingness,
and never again referring to the EN-.
barrassing topic.
She should miss him-she owned
that. She should think of him in the
mazes of the German-there was no.
body at home who could dance quite
SO well; she should think of him on
cool, bright mornings-he had driven
her out so often on such days-and
on warm afternoons, like those they
had spent together in his row boat, or
on the leafy porch; she should Ger.
tainly think of him on moonlight ev-
enings-
Ida stopped herself half angrily, and
gave q determined attention to her
book. Perhaps the words were OBJ.
scured for a moment by O slight mist
| WuiSu H1u bOutCilOW UIL6cu Ill ucE
soft eyes; but it was only for q mo.
mcnt.
1t was when they drew up in
Crosby's large, covered depot.
"You'll take the next train back,
won't you, Uncle Harvey?" said Ida,
as they crossed the several interven-
ing tracks to the waitingroom. w've
good while to wait for my train,
you know. You won't need to wait
with me-"
"Well, I don't know" said Uncle
Harvey, irresolutely: mo hurry"
He was a dreamy little man, with
scholarly face and big, near sighted
eyes. He was vague and impractical
to the last degree. To be sure, per.
son of his ample means could afford
to be impractical.
I'll just see when your train leaves"
said Uncle Harvey, presently, putting
Ida into a seat and disappearing
toward the ticket window.
He came back hastily.
at leaves in ten minutes" he an
nounced. I'll put you omit now."
"Ten minutes? Ida repeated, fol-