Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1891-12-17

Inc ScnOOl DuZZeQ with this bet. |
was not supposed to know it. But |
did and gave no sign. Soon after was
sent to boarding-school. My father
had heard with great displeasure of the
affair, and did not choose that such
thoughts be put in my head. | was not
back again until after | graduated. 1t
was in summer-a summer of calm star
lit nights. The town was full of young
people who had put school behind them,
and now pressed forward eagerly to
taste the cup of joy which life presents
but once. Among them was John Tenn
pie, even more triumphant than of old,
for he wore the all-conquering uniform
of West Point cadet. He had no
rivals. When he appeared, others re-
tired. He took by right, and caused no
jealously. Such was his complete de-
nomination.
saw him first at an evening party.
RumOr had engaged him to a young
girl of the town who had won him by
years of devotion. He had brought her
that evening.
There were strangers present, one
gay and handsome Southern girl He
was bending over her when l first saw
him. He pretended he did not see me at
first. l am not person that challenges
the attention of room. But knew that
he did see me, and with that subtle,
quiet understanding that never had need
ed signs between US, | knew he would
be at my side presently.
His devotion to the girl grew even
more marked, but | was not surprised
when, although | was deep in CONVERSE
ton with some one else, | felt him take
my hand. He drew it in his arm.
"Come." he said, and led me on to the
| long gallery where up and down we
paced in the moonlight all the evening,
| AS we passed the long, open windows
| could see within. The girl to whom
John Temple was said to be engaged
had left the dancers, and two kind girl
friends were trying to screen her unhap-
piness and fearful eyes.
| The gay visitor to whom he had been
all devotion was laughing still in hard,
strained tones, and looking about with
wondering eyes; youth is hard and re-
morseless; | felt no pang. | enjoyed my
| triumph.
This was the beginning. When [ was
not, and doubtless making proper occa-
sions, John Temple repaired his omis-
sions and paid court right and left. But
when | was present, | was all in all.
We sat out dances, and paced the side
walks, wandering up and down the
block with that freedom which village
| life allows.
| she can't propose to her. because he's
engaged to Edith heard a voice say
one evening.
''That wouldn't be straw in his way"
was the reply.
| heard both indifferently.
| saw Edith grow paler and thinner,
and unhappiness settle on her face like
disease. pitied her, only her preten-
lions to John Temple seemed absurd.
He was mfne-if l cared to have him.
One evening ] was late at a dance.
When l came in John Temple was the
center of group of girls. There was a
laughing dispute among them.
| sBut | have the Documents he said,
and pulled from his pocket time stained
card; "years ago | knew there was a
time coming when you would deny your
ages, so | took precautions to get them
then. | guess I'm equal to the arithme-
metic.''
There was cry, and hands flung up to
sieze the card which he quickly restored
to his pocket
'Who would have thought you could
have been 50 sly?'
"What base advantage of innocent
confidencew
Well as | knew him, that he could so
long cherish such little scheme was a
revelation.
He disentangled himself from them
and came to me. After few languid
whirls he said, "Let us leave this"
And, as usual, we went out on the gal
| ry, we sat down on bench beneath
the vines.
John Temple had never made love to
me. Hr treated me with an air of pro-
pietorship, as one might care for rare
vase, or something to delicate and
precious for common use. 1t was so
different from the free aud easy relations
of young people, even when they, are in
love, that it had unique and most
agreeable value.
You will always be young to me,
Kitty he said, as we sat down. ''In
my thoughts you are still fiery little
child"
Are you going away tomorrow he
asked after silence.
"Yesn
"You must not go. | cannot let you
60. You always stay so long. Alb, Kit
ty, you wont go?"
ssThere are others.''
"There is only you, Kitty. Did you
ever know that years ago | made a bet
about you?"
Eyes, heard of it,
"'The time is up, Kitty; the gage was
a ring. have it here. But want you
to wear it. Where is your dear little
hand? Yours? Mine. | can't remem-
Der the day when did not claim it,
| began nervously to pull off my glove,
warm and clinging from his strong
grasp.
''Where is the ring? l put it here
He began to probe the traditional waist
coat pockets. / turned over the long
glove, stripping it from my hand, now
half revealed. "Ye gods" he laughed
loudly; II had forgotten; Laura Golden
wears that ring. 1t is Laura's hand that
is mine"
She was the southern girl.
How, | know not, but diamond bau-
BILE changed its place and | tore off my
glove. The ring danced in the moon
light. but my heart stood still, stunned
by the brutal blow.
You never wore that RING before - ne