Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-08-24

llsten 70 mis- rnapsoQles aDout ocottlen song
and Scottish heroism, and 90 long as
Maisrie's violin was in tune and her hand
as sensitive as ever on the trembling
strings, he did not seem to pay much heed
to the future. Perhaps it was but natural
that one who had wandered 30 far and wide
should welcome little peace ct last; and
perhaps he Intentionally blinded his eyes:
at all events the young people were allowed
the utmost freedom OF companionship-it
was as II these three formed but one family.
One night as Vincent was about to leave,
the old gentleman said to him
about tomorrow evening: I presume We
dine at Mentavisti's?"
"Oh, yes, certainly; we've tried Q good
many places, and we cant do better than
Mentavisti's," the young man answered-as
If it mattered one brass farthing to him what
sort o. a dinner there was, or WHARF he got
ii, so long as Maisrie was at the same tablet
"Ah, very we'll. For this how am stu
ated," said Mr.. Bethune. gravely and
grandly, as beftted the seriousness Of the
theme. 81 have an appointment in Jermyn
street at 6 o'clock. I may be detained. Now
i can undertake to be at Mentavisti's res
taurant at land when the dinner hour is
once fixed, to play shiily-shally with it
seems to me abominable-but am not so
sure that shall have time to return home
first. 1t will be better, therefore, and every
way safer, for Maisrie to come down by her.
sell in a cab"
"But mayn't call for her?" the Young
man suggested at once. "You know she
would much rather walk down than drive"
''Oh, very we'll, very well, if you dod't
mind" said Mr.. Bethune, with lofty con-
descension-or indifference; while Maisrie,
instead of being in the least confused by
this proposal, looked up with perfectly
frank and pleased eyes, apparently giving
him little message Of thanks.
Nor was she in the least embarrassed on
the following evening, when he was ushered
upstairs by the landlady's daughter. Maisrie
except as regarded her gloves, and she was
putting a final touch to the few flowers with
which she had adorned the table.
'Good evening"" said she, quite placidly.
'I will be with you in a moment, as soon as
I have dried nv fingers
She disappeared for a second, and re-
torned. He hesitated before accompanying
her to the door.
won't you give me one of those fovers?"
said he, rather breathlessly.
She seemed little surprised.
"Now that I think of it." she said, "I
have never seen you wear a flower in your
coat, as other gentlemen do. And I'm
afraid there isn't one nearly fine enough"
"Ifyou were to give me flower, should
not destroy it by wearing it in my coat?"
said he.
"oh, merely flower" she asked. She
went 70 the table. "Will this one do?"
1t was a white geranium that she handed
him. simply enough; he took out his pocket
book, and carefully placed il between the
leaves. For the brieiest instant she regarded
him as if in wonder that he should seek to
preserve so worthless a thing; but she made
no remark; and then unconcernedly and
cheerlully she led the way downstairs,
and together they passed out into the open
street.
1t was marvellous and bewildering thing
to think that he should be in sole and COM
plete charge Of her, here in the midst of the
great and busy world of London. Did these
hurrying people guess at his proud elation,
his new found sense of guardianship and
his anxiety that all things
should be pleasant to her; or had they
hardly time even to notice this beautiful
young creature, her step light as a fawn.
radiant in her eyes? Perhaps they needed
her and the tail and handsome youth by her
side as little as she needed them;
for indeed she seemed to be entirely en-
crossed in her companion, talking,
smiling, replying to him without shadow
Of self-consciousness or restraint. To him
this new relationship was an amazing kind
Of thing; she did not seem even to perceive
it. To him it was an epoch in his life, to be
forever remembered; to her-well, nearly
every evening she walked out in similar
fashion with her grandfather, and she did
not appear to notice any difference; at least
she showed no sign.
But all at once Maisrie altered her man
ner; aud that was when he, in the lIghtness
If his heart, informed her that there was
till a chance of their setting out on that
ong contemplated pilgrimage to the various
poetic shrnes of Scotland.
"Mr. Harris" she said, proudly, "you
made me promise"
Eyes, know did," he said; s'but things
lave changed, and I'm going to explain to |
you; and think you'll fad everything sat- |
stactory. But first of all, before begin, I |
wish you wouldn't call me 'Mr. Harris. It |
ounds detestable. You who are so natural |
md Straightforward in all your ways-why
lon't you call me Vincent?"
"Don't you think that Mr.. Vincent might !
,e fair COMPROMISED" she asked gently, |
md with her eyes lowered.
'1've called you Maisrie once or twice, by |
ccident, aud you didn't seem to mind" he |
,ointed out.
81 am sure I did not notice." she made
nswer at once. "How should I? I am |
Ised to nothing else."
''Then I am to be allowed to call you |
daisrie, said he, clutclling eagerly at this
ew-found privilege. "And you will call |
ne Vincent-when you find Mr.. Vincent |
ecome too formal; is it compact"
"Yes, it is-Mr. Vincent-if you like"
aid she with a smile. "But why do you
make it. so very serious?"
Because" said he gravely, "when any |
olemn bargain is completed people shake |
lands to make it secure"
"Not in the middle of Oxford street." she |
aid.
I'VE will postpone the ceremony, If you |
refer it; and now will begin and tell Won |
ow it is still possible we NAV have that |
ong ramble through Scotland together.
You we're anxious that before ANYTHING of |
he kind were attempted your grandfather
hould 60 back to the United States to get |
materials for his book on the Scottish poets
n America. Well, now. it seems a pity to
make such long voyage if it can be done
Tithout; and SO I have taken the liberty of
ending over to New York to see if there
sn't some handy young fellow there-some
lerk or reporter-who would undertake to
ollect all necessary materials, and send
hem over here for your grandfather to work
p. Then we could go to Scotland all the
is, ii you will let me accompany
ou."
Someone to collect the materials and
end them over?" she repeated; and then
he said: "But would that be fair, Mr..
iarris-Mr. ViDcent?-would that be hon.
st? Surely noti The book would not be
~ grandrather's book at all; properly it
,ould belong to the young man in New
-ork %