The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1891-11-13

~ 800 NNPN0 S1N yD0b5 "Nh a
whom the query was addressed. fitting
himself back in his chair and sending a
cloud of smoke from a b~riarwood pipe.
"And your object in inviting me here
was to ask my permission, was it?' pur-
sued the Major, growing slightly redder in
the face.
sit was, sir"
Then, SIR" exploded the older man,
rising to his feet, and humping a hand
some mahogany table with bis fist, ''at the
risk of seeming discourteous I will tell you
that your ambi ton is impairment and rot
to DE tolerated for a moment. forbid you.
sir, to continue your calls upon Miss For
sythe, and decline to entertain your pro-
posal."
The old soldier drew his figure up stif1y
and prepared to leave. The young man,
after a few vigorous puffs at the pipe,
glanced sharply at his caller: Major"
said he, in tones in which not the slightest
trace of passion or resentment were discer-
nible. would you mind telling me frankly
what your objections to me may be?"
Major Forsythe hesitated a moment.
IL will, if you insist on it, Mr.. Dau-
die" he replied. Il wish my daughter to
marry A MAN in every sense OF the word.
l do OF want ny so~n-in-law to be rich,
only sensible; though you could not be
charged with poverty, l believe"
my income is $4,000 a year, Major"
the youth interrupted, and l live within it
something rather unusual in men OF my
age"
Yes" snapped the Major growing tx
asperated again at the GOODNESS of his adj
versary. "You live within it. Exactly.
And, outside Of the pleasures of the hour
and the moment, what object have you in
life, pray? You haunt the theatres. You
affect Delmonico's for luneheops and cock
tails. You sit in club windows, though |
must admit in justice that never caught
you chewing the head of your cane. You
wear your keys on a chain in your pistol
pocket. You are a dandy, sir-what
Thackeray calls a buck A sybari,e,
may be. Look at these rooms, sir-flled
with knickkracks and gimcraeks, like any
fine lady's boudoir. Look at yourself, sir
-pab"' and the Major paused again.
Young Mr.. Reginald Daudle surveyed
his Powered silk dressing gown with an
apologize air. For the first time in bis
life povbsns he uisbad HE orava+ ont of
gear, his trousers less artistically creased,
and his finger nails less trinity pared. 81
nave 20 business it is true" lie admitted,
"and l do not think l am very clever, but
I love Blanche and that ought to weigh in
my favor with you. Tell me how l can
make myself worthy of her and l will go
on my knees 20 thank you"
"Be something them exclaimed the
Major, slightly touched in spite of him.
self: prove yourself a man, for l swear
my girl shall not marry a dude. There.
I've said the word, though l didu't mean
to-"
"What sort of proof do you require?'
was the youths natural query.
"Pshaw!'' burst ont the Major, pettish-
ly, don't poster me with questions, boy.
See here. Look at me, a man old enough
to be your grandfather, almost, and order
| ed to leave o-morrow for Dakota to keep
| those Internal redskins from Sitting SET
tiers threats. There's life aud manhood
and action in the business. however. Now
l dou't fancy you'd make much of a
soldier''-the youth nodded-''but while
am away there are lots of callingsi in which
you may embark, and win the respect of
your fellows, who now only know you as
a polished idler. And bark We, young
man, while I am gone l expect you, in
honor, to leave Blanche alone"
You may trust me. Major" responded
the yonDg man, land l shall hope that
| you can change your opinion of me by the
time you return"
Long after the burly Major had depart
ed, Mr.. Daudle sat before the fire in his
shirt sleeves, smoking and thinking. The
lowered silk dressing-gown had been cast
into a corner in disgrace. Yes he NUT
tered dejectedly to himself before turning
in, 81 believe there are some people who
would call me a dude"
Major Forsythe. wrapped to the ohin in
a huge military coat, stood on the platform
of the Grand Central Depot a few minutes
before the scheduled starting time OF the
"limited" for Chicago. Au elderly lady,
the similarity of whose features 10 his "
gave evidence that she was his sister, was
weeping copiously. Miss Blanche For
sythe's brown eyes were lustrous, but
moist, beneath her veil, and the. daintily-
gloved hand that she laid upon his arm
trembled ~perceptibly. The ~obsequious
tr,inmen looked with respectful admira-
ton at her trim figure, nsttily set of, IS it
was, by a fetching tailor-made suit, and a
couple OF superbly attired drummers began
booking bets on the probability of her
being a passenger.
"Well my dears." calculated the Major,
huskily, you'd better be off now. Don't
worry" a tear dropped from his nose as he
bent to kiss his beloved girl, who fairly
began to sob as the momen of parting ar
rived. His sister had commenced wailing