Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1891-07-30

He turns as if TO fulfill his words, but Kit
stops him.
Don't co." she says laughing gayly, now
herself. Even the very original lutte would
not transform you into a god. Stay if you
want to. After all, now am again in my
senses, l dare say you are as good to talk to
as a heather deity"
''Oh, no." says Mr.. Desmond, humbly.
''They always Numbered when they spoke {;
so think how imposing and convincing their
arguments must have beenr'
"Horrid, should think" says Kit. "And
now tell me what brought you here?'
This is abrupt, but, taking her in her own
mood, Desmond answers, bluntIy,-
Monica
''She told you to Gomez"
"NO. But want to see her."
''She has gone to her room"
make her leave it again. Tell her can
not rest until l see her; tell her anything :;
only bring her to me for even one short mo-
ment"
But it is some time since I left her; per
haps she is in bed
But not asleep yet, surely. She loves
yOlt Kit; induce her, then, to come to her
window, that [ may even catch glimpse of
her, if may not speak with her. But she
cannot be in bed; it is 81 early" says Mr..
Desmond, desperately.
WELL" says Kit, reIenting, and striving
to forget the blank occasioned by the subSti-
tuition of an ordinary Desmond for an eX-
traordinary deity, ''I'll see what can be
done"
you will" eagerly, "really?"
Eyes, really. | will stand your friend"
says Kit solemnly, feeling now that, even
if the old gods have denied her an intimate
acquaintance with them, still they have de-
voted her to the service of Cupid, and have
secretly commanded her to help on the mach
nations of his naughty little highnesS.
''Then will you tell her | want to see her
here 1loaC-for only a bare second if she
so wills il? WIZ you tell her this from me?
Dear Kit, S1Ueet Kit, | entreat you to do
this"
''Oh how sweet am when you want me
to do something for your says she, with a
little smile. There! | can see through you
as clearly as though you were crystal; but L
like you all the same. You must have some
good in you to fall in love with my Monica .
'Others can fall i'll love with her, too" re-
turns he, with moody jealousy.
''Ah, yes! | saw that" says Kit, lifting
her hands eXcitedly.
''Who could fail to see it? Who could fail
to love her?' says Desmond, sadly. Then,
being in such very poor ease, and looking
soroWfully for comfort from any source,
however small, lie says, neryoUsly,-
Kit, answer me truthfuIiy-you have
sworn to b. my friend; tell me- then, which
do Y01t count the better man,-him, or me?''
But that a sense Of honor fOrDids him to
pry into his love secrc, thoughts he would
have asked whom she counted the better
man.
"You," says Kit, calmly. 81 have no
doubt about it. hdtc fat men, and so does
Monica. l have heard her say so, over and
over again.
ooh, Kit! what a dear little Girl you are p
says Mr. Desmond, with grateful fervor.
''W ell, II glad you like me" says Kit,
''because'-franlIy-'T like you. 1t was
very good Of you to lend that gun to Terry;
l haven't forgotten that, though, goodness
knows, only hope he won't do himself to
death with it, (She delights in old-world
phrases such as this) land l like you, too,
for loving Monica. Isn't She" laying her
hand upon his arm, and looking trusttully
into his eyes,-"isn't she pretty?
''She is like an angel" says Desmond,
feeling all his heart go out to the fragile,
ethereal-looking child before him, as he
listens to her praises of her sister.
''Or a saint, perhaps. Monica is a sanity
name. Was she not the mother of st. Au-
guStine?' says Kit quickly. After the old
gods, passion for the saints, and their lilies
and roses and fiery trials, animates her child
iSh bosom. ''Oh! and that reminds me-" she
says; ''she told me to bring her in a lily,
fresh with deW,-0ne of those lilies over
there in that dark corner. Do you see them,
tall and white"
81 see. Let me pick one for her. Here,
take it to her, and" laying his lips upon it,
this with IT,
Il will. And now let me run in and try
my utmost to persuade her to come out here.
But" doubtfully, as she remembers how
Monica refused with studied GOODNESS to
meet his parting glance at the barracks a
few hours ago. 'do not be too sure of her
coming. She may refuse, you know. She
is peculiar in many ways, and she thinks
herself bound in honor to Aunt Priscilla not
to look at you. But stay here, just in this
spot. and think all the time that | am doing
my very best for you"
Her little face is so earnest as she says all
this, so fearful that he may have to endure
disappointment that he is greatly touched.
Pushing back her hair from her forehead
with both hands, he lays a light but loving
kiss upon her brow.
go, my best friend. l trust all to you, u
he says, after which the slender sprite
springs away from him, and, entering the
shadows beyond, is soon lost to him.
Reaching the house, she mounts the stairs
with swift but silent footsteps, and, after a
nervous hesitation before the door of her
aunt Priscilla's room, finds herself once
again face to face with Monica. That pref
ty cause Of all this plotting is not in bed, as
Kit had predicted might be the case. She is
not even undressed. She has only exchanged
her azure gown for a loose white morning
robe, long and trailing, and lavishly trim
med at the throat and wrist with some rare
old Mechlin lace that Aunt Penelope had
given her week ago, glad in the thought
| that 1t may perchance add another charm to
the beauty of her darling.
Her hair is rolled up in a small, soft knot
behind; her face is little pale; her eyes,
| large and luminous, have great heavy shad-
ows lying beneath them, suggestive of fa-
| tigue and firing thought Altogether, she
is looking as lovely as any heart can desire.
''Ah, you have returnedr' she says, as Kit
enters. How long you have beeni L gave
you up. | thought some pXy had become
enamored of you and had carried you off to
his Kingdom
L was in danger Of nothing so insignifi-
cant as pixy. 1t was the great Apollo's
self feared" says Kit, with sly humor.
Gus smile. And here is your lily; he sent
| it to Won with his love and a kiss Don't
| you think you were little unkind to that
| dear Brian this evening"" she says.
THAT dear Brian will recover from my
cruel treatment, 1 make no doubt" says
Monica, with affected ightness, though, il
truth, remorse is gnawing at her heart
strings.
If he does, he will show his very gooG