Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1890-12-31

no such plan in regard to her own
daughters; and when Mrs. Bean an
nounced, one morning, that young
Mr.. Price was coming, the next night,
to tea, she sent Miss Daisy over to
entertain the guest-an act of simple
neighborly kindness which the dutiful
young lady was perfectly willing to
perform.
Ben Price, although a handsome
young man with handsome fortune,
was modest enough withal to be some
what surprised at the attention which
Milvale society seemed disposed to
bestow upon him; but, as the surprise
was of so pleasurable nature, he ac-
cepted it without troubling himself as
to the cause.
Having made the acquaintance of
Miss Daisy Waldron, it followed nat
urally enough in due course of time,
that he should be presented to the
remaining members of the household.
He was a little dismayed by the
number of them, and somewhat con-
fused by their names; but he gradual
ly recovered himself, and proceeded
with precipitancy quite at variance
with his usual leisurely habit, to fall
most desperately in love with Polyan-
thus. But perhaps this was because
he remembered her as his little
"Meadow-Sweet," as he had been used
to name her to his mother.
EYES," said Mrs. Waldron, who
confded all her hopes and fears, her
joys and sorrows, to the friendly and
sympathetic Mrs. Bean. 81 never
saw clearer case of love at first
sight. He has no eyes for anyone
but Polly; and she such child, too
only nineteen though how anyone
can see anything to choose between
her and Marigold is more than I can
tell, for they are as much alike as two
flowers on the same stalk, only Polly's
eyes are brown, like her hair, while
Marigold's are blue"
"Has he said anything to you or to
Mr.. Waldron ?" asked Mrs. Bean,
somewhat awed by the abruptness of
the disclosure and all that it involv-
ed.
ooh. no." replied Mrs. Waldron.
"He's no need to-he knows well
enough" And then she checked
herself. IF it were true that, in her
secret heart, she rejoiced in the supe-
rior charms of her daughters, and
triumphed privately in the discomf-
ture of Mrs. Wilder, she was not the
woman to confess it.
There are some things which we
are slow to acknowledge, even to our
selves.
AS for Ben, he was greatly perplex.
ed by Miss Polly's behavior, and his
honest heart underwent such a sue
cession of ups and downs-such pal
pitating hope and such depressing
fear-that, unless it had been a very
strong hea5tsas well as a very loving
one, it must have become very much
bruised and battered. For Polly,
although she looked at him with the
softest chances in the world, was so
shy that poor Ben could hardly get
word with her alone and the glances
the more shy grew the fair Polly in
her behavior. If he asked her to go
to sleigh-ride, Marigold must 60 too
if he walked home with her from
church, she was sure to be accompani-
ed by Rose or Violet-it was not al
ways easy to discriminate /; and, if he
tried Mrs. Deacon Wilder's plan of
popping corn in the kitchen after
supper, the situation became even
more difficult, for Mrs. Waldron's
coy kitchen fairly swarmed with
beautiful but distracting olive-plants.
Finally, one spring morning, Ben,
in his desperation, wrote letter, and,
with the most careful instruction as
to its destination, delivered it to
James, his boy-of-all-work. awaiting,
with beating heart, the result.
my darling" he wrote, "you know
that love you. You must know it.
Meet me tonight, under the old apple
tree at the end of the lane, and let
me tell you so again, and let me hear
you ray that you love me-just a
little, and do not tease me any longer.
Your devoted
BEN"
James. with the best intention in
the world, had an unfortunate facility
for doing just what he was told not to
do; but Ben had forgotten this Pc
culiarity Of his, or his heart would
have thumped more vigorously than
before, while James, with perverse
alacrity, hurried away on his mission.
Polyanthus and Marigold sat on
the steps together when the misguided
James appeared.
HE has letter." said Polly to
herself ~ wonder if it is for me-"
She waited-sbe held her breath
yes-no, it was for Marigold and
Marigold, blushing, hurried away to
read it, her first love-letter.