Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-08-13

50. not from the thans,ast, Thcottr' with burst, of laughter. ''Dotth jutht gone up to the hotel-oh, Thcott, let me Whithper thomething to you!' and Scotts ears were made happy by just five little words that rushed up into his brain like some strange, intoxicating melody; ''Dotth dying for you, Thcottl"
 ''How do you know, Chickie2" hugging her close in his gladness ~~-
 Can't hee? But you muthn't let her know you're here-not all at Wunth-Dotth very weak!"
 "Is she indeed? I'm very sorry? I'll ask my wife to come with me when you have told her-she'll like Dot;' and he looked down into two big brown wells, whose liquid treasures were overdowing and run ming to waste all over the little linen frock and oh! such a look, far down under their brimming surfaces-a look of outraged con- tidencc and indignant sorrow-a look that made Scott gather her up into his strong arms and kiss the tears away, with a meek petition for forgiveness-that he was only fibhng-and sunshine chased shadows from our little heroine's eyes.
 Then the child began plotting to get them together-for Barbara felt, young as she was, that Dot would never voluntarily see Scott again.
 That afternoon. when all ''the world'' at
  | Barbara lay talking; the latter rattling ahead and keeping wonderfully away from the subject at heart, the former replying at intervals and not hearing the twaddle at all. Suddenly Babara Sprang up from Dots side, seized her pen and paper, and scratch, scratch, scratch filled the room for fully ten minutes.
 70, Dot, get up, pleathe; can't copy thith at all-won't you juth write the name of thith thong for me?"
 Poor Dot wrote neatly and prettily in her fine Italian hand these words in the center of a cream-tintcd sheet of note paper: "Come to me, darling, or die!n
 "What sentimental songu said Dot, the obedient.
 ''Ycth it ith!'' and Barbara grabbed the paper and lay down by Dot until she was sure her sister was lost in slumber; then the small opossum was up and off like a flash to Scott.
 And he2 He took the written words as a condemned man might take a message straight from Heaven-vhe kissed Barbara and the letter by turns, and tho tears of joy he could not restrain fell upon the note paper and the yellow bangs indiscrimi nately.
 ''Dotth taking hor 'the-cthtar,' ath papa edith it. Now you wait till juth before thupper, and I'll thee that Dot ith all ready y to rethieve you-and you promith never to go off again or thlam the door"
 That evening tho sunset was glorious like jewels from tho Orient heaped in 6 golden platter the little cloudets blushed and famed, yellow and crimson and ruby red.
 Dot, dressed like the wrath OfSome fash ionable Undine, camc out upon the balcony to enjoy it ull-that is, to enjoy it as well as she could without her lost Hildebrandt. She looked until her eyes could no longer beal tho splendor, then turned her glance back ward.
 ! Suddenly she deserted figure that seemed strangely, sWectly familiar, despite the blu, the sun had made before her eyes. Tho fig ure came nearer, the mists cleared from be fore her longing eyes, and Dot could not i tell for one intoxicating instant whether or not she was in heaven whom she saw Scott radiant-faced, smiling up into her very eyes
 He stood at last beneath her balcony Groups of people Wcro standing by, and fol this reason alone he did not follow the ire sistabe impulse that made him wish to shout aloud his great love for her and his excessive ! joy at seeing her again. When she could nc i longer gaze like veritable Juliet, silently : down into his very eyes, and road the unut tcrablc tenderness that filled their glorious depths, when her Romeo vanished from hel 1 sight and disappeared within the door be meath her balcony, she dragged herselt | heavily back into her room and fell into white heap upon the floor. But when consciousness came glimmerins back sho lay limp and passive in Scott' strong arms, heard Barbaras triumphan cry: Oh, Dot! oh, Thcott, arn't you happy now2" and saw papa standing over him witt his handkerchief suspiciOusly near his eyes although he kept blowing his nose witt great zeal.
 "And my note never reached you, my poor broken lily?"
 No, Scott nover'
 And for the first time in her life Barbar; had an inl1ling of the mischief she had un willingly done; but she was very quie about it, and only 'confctthed' after man, months
 And the roses rushed back pell-mell, tho sea grew greener and lovelier, the sand wa! shining gold and the clouds were roly-pol1 Cupids chasing each other across the wide fields of azure, and Scott was her own for