The Ohio Democrat. (Logan, O. [Ohio]) 1886-1906, 1892-03-05
HARRIET CLARKS0N.
She Waited, and Her True Lover
Came at Last.

cision from her ever-busy brain. So,
as Miss Harriet leaned forward and
complacently surveyed the tips OF her
new slippers as she said: 81 wish that
l had a lover: I'm sure that | could
manage one" the mother took another
stitch in the dainty cambric and re-
marked: There is plenty of time yet
Harriet mine"
Harriet started up in such haste that
the little chair was set violently rock
ing Going to the mantel, she raised
her pretty arms above her brown head
and contcntedly studied the fresh,
young face in the mirror.
"Well," she laughed softly in the
midst of faint yawn, "I'm dreadfully
anxious for him to come. I'm tired of
this do-nothing lifer'
Let him come VIXEN he may, and
let us pray that he come in joy and
peace" was the quiet rejoinder
That had been less than month ago,
and now Harriet stood before the same
mirror; but it was different face that
the glass pictured nova perplexed
brow, scornful lip, and yet mist of
pity struggling to the gentle gray eyes.
A schoolboy's note was the cause of it
ala little hastily scrawled note, but
hot with an unframed passion. And
| its frank despair was what hurt her
most.
| II know that you cannot forgive me, but 1
| can't keep from it, have tried, but am not
| strong enough to beat it back. 1t is burning me
up, Harriet, even II L am boy. L think that
this will make man of me. At least, it will
| put mans heart in me"
| Harriet read it over and over, and
each time there rose before her vision
of an honest young face and tears lying
in the eyes hardly dry as yet from the
grief over the lost ball. Mrs. Clarkson
said never word, for she knew that
the confession would come in good
time At last Harriet tossed her the
note, and, throwing herself on the
| couch, she buried her face in the soft
pillows and sobbed.
| ''Oh, why did ever want a lover?
And why did he do it? l knew that he
! liked me, but l never dreamed of his
loving me-
Mrs Clarkson read the poor little
note. with a sigh; then, drawing the
brown head to her shoulder, she said
II, too, am sorry from the bottom of
my heart But he and you are only the
instruments of fate. Every boy some
time in his boyhood loses his heart to
woman older than himself. 1t is his
first love and his first great sorrow. 1t
does put mans heart in him. But he
gets over it-that is, the sting is gone
but he always remembers it, Tor the
first love is the sweetest. This is your
first lover, and he has not come in Joy
and peace Be a woman and dca
gently with him
| Harriet dried her eyes as she went to
her desk. But womanhood seemed to
have suddenly opened within her, and
she was surprised at her own gentle
ness Women are both womanly
strong and womanly weak, and the
tender, almost motherly note that she
wrote in reply was an example of the
! first, while the big, round tear which
splashed unexpectedly on the address
was only betrayal of the latter.
And so Harriet, in her twentieth
! year, cried over her first lover and sent
/ him away.
-Four years went by. The curls had
become little more controllable, and
a sweet dignity had begun to soften
the old-time girlsh joys. 1t was the
day before her graduation, as she was
hurrying through the hall on her way
to the library, when Prof Palmer ap-
peared before her. A little paroxysm
of pain seemed to go over issweet, old
face, as he hesitated. puzzled light
! CLEANED in Harriets eyes for she did
not understand why his face should
pale.
Miss ClarlSson," he at last said, "if
| you have time | should like to see you
in my Office a moment"
She followed him wonderingly, and
| yet half in dread, but it was not till he
had held open the door for her to pass,
in that stately, elegant old style of his,
| that he said:
II fear it is wrong, but / cannot help
it. ! cannot let you go away with
out telling you that l love you.
know that am selfish, but am not so
| old, after all-only siXty-fve." And
unconsciously a deep pleading crept
into his soft, old voice, and his trem-
bling hands clasped.
Again mighty pity filled her heart.
How she loved the kind, old man, with
his handsome head and wide-opening
heart And yet, not at all as hus-
band but as an instructor, an adviser,
a friend, whose gentle concern had
done so much toward making her col
lege life success. Her lips trembled
as she faltered:
"Dr. Palmer, l am truly sorry.
cannot be thankful enough, either for
/ am not worthy of such rich love as
yours But ! shall be frank do not
love you and / never can love you as
you wish"
He sank into a chair at his desk,
while already calm resignation had
begun to steal over his features.
! 81 see, you are right 1t was wicked
for man of my age to wish to possess
so young and beautiful woman as
you"
Harriet demonstrated at this, but he
only said:
mo go now, and forgive the weak
ness of an old man"
HiE head fell forward on his arms.