The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1886-11-25
POLES APART.

against the frall dOOr-pOst of the sum-
mer house t II the airy building rocked
to its foundations.
Say one kind word, Stella. My love
may not seem much to you. but at
least it is the best 1 have to give" he
said, earnestly, looking very white and
hurt.
Stella Howard, sitting sweet and
calm in her white gown and pearls.
half glanced toward her impetuous
lover, then dropped her blue eyes
again with suspicion Of a dainty
shuddcr.
Dicks hands were so very big and
red, and his evening dress looked as if
it came out of the ark. OF course he
was very good and nice, and Stella did
not mind his clumsy. little attentions
when no more interesting was at hand
but to be made love to by big, awk-
ward. young civil engineer working on
the new railway line! creature who
couldn't sing or ride, or play billiards;
who entered room like a wandering
elephant, and was forever buried in
diagrams and calculations. instead of
talking society chatter! Stella could
not help feeling it decided liberty on
Dick Fellowcs' part to agine himself
entitled to love Colonel Towards only
daughter, and she heartily wished she
had never suggested his being invited
to dinner-at which he had overturned
glass of chablis over her new lace
founce-or consented to show him the
garden in the soft sunset glow of that
June evening.
Il don't know what to say. I've
told you it isn't the least use, Mr.. Fell
loves; your life and mine are poles
apart; we can't make them meet. I'm
very sorry you should be panied. Try
to forget it all,' she answered. trying
not to show her disdain too plainly.
''ForGet'' echoed Fellowcs, the
blood rushing to his temples. NO,
that's not likely. tell YOU while you
live no man will love you as have
done. Good-by, Stella; 1 can't stand
any more. Heaven bless you, although
you are so crucl!'
. And he was out of sight down the
garden path before Stella could have
stopped him, even had she so wished.
What curiously abrupt manners he
had, thought she, as she made her way
to the drawing room through the sweet
scented roses to sing the song Captain
Thurlow had begged for in whisper
as she left the table. How odd to 90
without dding good-by! And he was
leaving Churlstone the next day, she
knew
Captain Thurlow's polished manner
nnciti,,o ,so1;nf ofk H.
Tor. and as he turned the pages of the
Bohemian Girl!' and murmured CON-
plimcnis into Stella Towards we'll
pleased car Dick Fcllowes and his WOO
ing faded from her mind like disa-
grccable dream.
Only once did she hear his name in
the two years that followed, and that
was i'll connection with the scheme OF
some proposed Government works, and
he was called MIR. Fcllowes, the we'll
known and rising engineer"
Dick rising! Dick famous! Stella
was sensible of little shock of intense
wonder.
But there was very little time for
any thought of the outside world after
that. Colone! Howard died in Az
ghanistan, and Stella found herself a
penn less orphan. dependent on the
distant relations with whom she was
living. Even in her sorrow and de-
spair there was 4 little ray of comfort
in the thought of Captain Thurlow.
Surely there was one strong arm and
brave heart that would not fail her.
But Captain Thurlow was endowed
with knowledge Of the world. which,
made him keenly aware of the ~ice
difference between Miss Howard the
pretty daughter of his rcputedly
wealthy Colonel and Miss Howard the
penniless orphan. His engagement to
Lancashire manufacturer daughter
was in all the society papers within a
fortnight; and as Stella tried to crush
out the modification and resentment
from her heart, which seemed full to
Overlooking, there sounded in her ears,
as if it were prophecy, Dick Fellowes'
parting words:
mo one will ever love you as !
have done.''
Was it all the perversity of woman's
nature that made Stclla's memory
dwell so often and so kindly on the
recollection of that wooing as time
went on? In the old days life had held
SO much love for her that Dicks seemed
thing little worth the having; now
that she was that lonely thing, . gov
erness in other peoples houses, she
wondered how she could have despised
any love so honest and so true, and her
recollection of clumsy Dick grew to be
avery kind and gentle one.
Not that her lot was as hard as that
of many; indeed, the Bouchers were
very kind to her. Her pupils were
good and affec!ionate, with the careless
affection of children; she had plenty to
eat and drink and nothing to complain
of, except that her life had passed her
BY. She tried to do her duty, to teach
the children we'll and wisely, to help
Mrs. Boucher with her numerous guests
} and society cares.
Tho house was to be full for regatta
as usual. and Stella had promised tc
give up her holiday till they were all
gone again. She was writing notes TO,
great garden party when the little
girls burst in upon her in wild excite.
ment.
'Oh, Miss Howard! only think! 81,
Richie is coming-our own dear Si1
Richie. Isn't it lovely!' they cried.
':And who may Sir Richie be?" in.
quired Miss Howard, very composed
ly, directing another envelope.
mot know our Sir Richie? Why
everybody knows him. He play.
tennis with US, and rows US on the
lake. and buys us dolls. Fancy
mamma, Miss Howard does not know
our own darling Sir Richie!''
Miss Howard has been out of so.
ciety so long that there is an excuse
for her not knowing at least the name
OF Sir Richard Fellowes," responded
Mrs. Boucher.
The pen rolled over upon the newly
addressed envelopes and ruined two,