The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1892-07-06

aBut she IS on the bed unconscious
aJust call Tom, and then see how IN
conscious she islr
Gillian, you are Just as hard hearted
as vou can bel She looks as white as
the sheet she is lying on
~Can Tom and she viii soon get her
color"
She did as told her, and We all went
to her room together, Lucy and Tom very
much sgitaied, but myself feeling irri-
tated and impatient
sStop a moment :" I said holding the
Others back, q want 70 speak 70 her
first. Olive-
There was not the slightest movement
in response to my call. GalAtea was not
more statue-like before her awakening.
Then Tom whispered in tremulOus &C
cents.
@Oliye, my little Oliver
Il was the working Of a miracle.
Attic frst sound Of his voice her eyes
opened as If finyoluntarily, and she rolled
them up to him with thelook Of seraph-
There :" I said to Lucy, and s more
disgusted young woman was never seen
But Tom was not the frst man duped
by pair Of melting brown eyes, and he
succumbed helplessly.
KneeIing by the side Of the bed, he
asked in q Teproachful way;
"Why did YOU do this, my child, why
did you do it,"
Because do not want to marry Mr..
Lamson," she answered pitifully.
@You shall not marry him if you do
not want 70, my darling"
aBut they said you wanted me to ac-
cept him."
q want you to accept man you do
not care for? No, indeed, love you too
well for that"
~Do you love me, Tom; do you love
me-"
Better than my life Olive"
@And I love you a hundred times bet
ter than do Mr.. Lamson."
@My darling" Tom cried rapturously,
while gnashed my teeth in impOtent
fury.
I could not contain myself however,
and approached the bed.
This is all very interesting" I said,
@but what do you suppose Mr.. Lamson
willthidk ofit?"
Lillian" Tom replied, with a deter
mined look upon his face, mo man was
ever fonder of sister than am, but l
viii not allow even you to interfere be-
tween me and the woman 1 love"
For the first time in my life was real
" angry with him, but only answered
by look; and if my eyes were not as
seraphie, they we're quite as expressive
as Olives. Then 1 wsnt toward the door
but the dear fellow followed me, and
throwing his arm around my waist he
cried:
"You are not angry, sister, are you ?"
was melted in moment.
~Oh, Tom," said-"poor boy-pOor
boy~
And trying hard to keep back my tears,
left him with his darling.
The next daY that young lady had the
audacity to ask me if would see Mr..
Lamson, who had Just called.
@oh, Iexclaimed, you wish to get nd
Of disagrseable duty, do your"
Hell tease me to marry him, and
never want to see the man again"
very WELL" l said. 81 viii see him I;
but it is on his account, not yours"
And I descended to the parlor with
my heart aching for the lover whose
fondest hopes had been so cruelty blast
ed.
grew more and more agitated, and
when / opened the parlor door my face
must have betrayed me.
Mr.. Lamson extended his hand and
asked quite eoolly;
is Olive sick? ?'
@No," I replied, @but have an un-
pleasant duty TO fulfill Oh, Mr.. Lam
son, if my sympathy
81 think I understand be said, in a
manner so utterly undisturbed that
looked at him in amazement. @You are
surprised" he continued, "but Olive has
not behaved in a proper or womanly
manner. was greatly deceived. She
has the eyes Of an angel, but her caprices
are anything but angelic. Ny patience
was nearly exhaused, especially as 1
think she prefers your brother TO me.
Indeed, she almost said so. Bot 1 assure
you that your sympathy is fully appre-
ciated."
Then he turned the subject and we
spent very pleasant evening. 1 had
always liked Mr. Lamson.
lie continued to call as frequently as
ever, seeming to appreciate my sym
patty more and more, especially
when it changed into the tenderest love.
And he soon convinced me that it was
merely a passing fancy he had felt for
Olive.
There was a double wedding, aud, al
though several years have passed, Tom
is as much in love with his wife as ever.
He Is successful and prosperous, enjoy
ing his prosperity, yet when We speak Of
him to each other we always say, with a
sigh:
"Poor Tom p Chicago Press.
60
1t is a Soldiers Ticket.