Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1890-07-16

} wheedling with as good a grace as
possible?
But if her fathers displeasure
could be thus conquered there was
another on which Mamie had not
counted; for before the sun was fairly
high she was lying face downward
on the red-chintz sofa, all her gay
spirits gone, a crumpled note in her
hand, and the sobs swelling thick
and fast as she tried to control her
grief.
Vainly her mother tried to com.
fort her with tenderest sympathy
and words of love and hope.
"Why, Mamie, why, darling"
she said, again and again, "do not
take little thing so to heart. Hor-
ace has made sad mistake, but he
will be sorry enough when you eA-
plain the matter to him"
II shall not eXplainw sobbed
Mamie. 81 meant to tell him al, but
after he has shown his faith in me
to be so small, it is best we should
part. l will not marry man who
doubts me-"
And in this decision, spite of all
remonstrance, she remained firm,
and returned her betrothal ring with
cold little note of thanFs.
The days passed, and still almost
every night Mamie went for her
walk, sometimes not returning until
as late as 10 o'clock.
And still Squire Wylde fretted and
fumed and ragged, and allowed him
self to be coaXed into II good humor
by his delinquent child, whose
cheeks had long since lost their rose
flush and the eyes their starry light
and the little feet their springing
grace.
1t was a beautiful still summers
evening; Squire Wylde had been
out rather late himself, and was in a |
hurry to get to his tea, which must
have been waiting full hour and a
half.
On his way home he ran across
Horace Elmer, whose haggard, worn
face looked more like that Of a ghost
in the dim light than living man.
"Hello, hello, Elmern said the
squire heartily. "You look as ifyou
had been drawn through knot
hole. Won't you come along home
with me to tea? Won't? Why,
man, what if it is oft between you
and my girl, you shouldn't cut the
rest of us, and Mary will be right
glad to see you. Mamie has gone
for her evening walk before this and
won't be back much before TO- so
all's safe in that quarter. Come
along, man. I'll take no refusal"
And linking his arm in Elmer's he
him, however reluctant,
to his own pretty cottage, which
was ablaze with light and wore
quite festive mlen.
"What on earth is the house all
lighted up for?" demanded the
squire, emitting = low whistle.
But Horace was absorbed in sad
and did not reply. /
Squire Wylde threw open the =
cottage door and entered the room
dragging Elmer after him.
"Hello, wife ~ he called, gaily, 81
bring you company so-Good heav-
ems! do my old eyes deceive me? {
Charlie! Charlie! my dear, lost
BOY ~
And throwing himself into the 5
arms of stalwart young man with {
/ blonde mustache aud the bluest of !
blue eyes, he sobbed for JOY on his 5
neck, while Mrs, Wylde kept COM E
lany with him. !
But now entered Mamie, leading
BY the hand fair-faced companion
With eyes like brown velvet, who =.
PRESSED to her bosom a golden "
haired infant of scarce two years. F
Charlie gently disengaging him d
elf from his fathers embrace, e
urned toward them saying: =
Father this is my wife Ellen, .
md my boy, whom we have named
or you. Have you no welcome for
hem >"
The old man turned toward the
mother and child, and while his
yes once more brimmed over with a
happiness, caught both to his heart Z
With a welcome genuine as it was
ender.
1--WE only returned home month
go, father, and as your birthday
was so near, Mamie and l planned
his surprise for you. Mother knew
III along, and when you were so c
ross with Mamie about her absence q
evenings We almost gave it up
"Aud SO this was Msmie's secTet?"
said the squire, kissing his girl
"What do you think of
i Horace?n
"I think have been q madman -
said Horace Elmer who had Wit
messed the scene like one turned to
stone.
Did Mamie forgive him? OF
course she did, aud danced at their
wedding myself for you must know
this Is a true story. Saturday
Night,