The Portland daily press., 1892-01-04
HE KEPT HIS PROMISE.

Oxford. She laughed and refused him.
He asked her'again next time he came
home. Again she laughed, tossed her
dainty blond head and again refused.
A third time he asked her; she said it
was becoming confirmed bad habit,
and laughed at him more than ever.
John was not the only man who want
ed to marry her; she was the belle of our
village coterie, and we were all in love
with her more or less; it was a sort of
fashion, like masher collars or Inverness
capes. Therefore we were as much
annoyed as surprised when John Char
rington walked into our little local club
we had it in loft over the saddler's, I
remember-and invited us all to his we'd
ding.
''Your wedding?"
"You don't mean itr'
! 'ssWho's the happy Fair? When's it to
be?''
John Charrington filed his pipe and
lighted it before he replied. Then he
said:
"Fm sorry to deprive you fellows of
your only joke-but Miss Forster and I
are to be married in September"
"You don't mean it?'
"He's got the mitten again, and it's
turned his head"
mo, / said rising, 81 see it's true.
Lend me a pistol some one, or first
class fare to the other end of Nowhere.
CharTington has bewitched the only
pretty girl in our twenty five mile radius.
Was it mesmerism or love potion,
Jack?"
] Neither, sir; but gift you'll never
e-perseverance-and the best luck a
man ever had in the world"
There was something in his voice that
silenced me, and all the chaff of the
other fellows failed to draw him further.
The queer thing about it was that
when we congratulated Miss Forster she
blushed and smiled and dimpled for all
the world as though she were in love
with him, and had been in love with
him all the time. Upon my word l
thought she had. Women are singular
creatures.
We were all asked to the wedding. In
Bri1ham every one who was anybody
knew everybody else who was any one.
My sisters were, | truly believe, moro
interested in the trousseau than the
bride herself, and was to be the best
man. The coming marriage was much
canvassed at afternoon tea tables and at
our little club over the saddlers, and the
question was always asked, "Does she
care for him?"
I used to ask that question of myself in
the early days of their engagement, but
after certain evening in August Inever
asked it again. ! was coming home from
the club through the churchyard. Our
church is on thyme grown hill, and
the turf about it is SO thick and soft that
ones footsteps are noiseless.
I made no sound as vaulted the low,
lichened wall and threaded my way be-
tween the tombstones. It was at the
same instant that / heard John Char
rington's voice and saw her face. May
was sitting on low, fiat gravestone,
with the full splendor of the western
sun upon her mignonne face. Its ex-
preston ended at once and forever any
question of her love for him. 1t was
TRANSPORTED to beauty | should not
have believed possible even to that beau
tiful little face.
John lay at her feet, and it was his
voice that broke the stiffness of the
golden August evening.
"My dear, my dear, believe that
should come back from the dead if you
wanted me-"
Icorghed at once to indicate my pres.
ence and passed on into the shadow, fully
enlightened.
The wedding was to be early in Sep
TENDER. Two days before I had to run
up to town on business. The train was
late of course, for we are ON the South
eastern, and as stood grumbling with
my watch in hand whom should sec
but John Charrington and May Forster.
They were walking up and down the
unfrequented end of the platform, arm
in arm, looking into each others eyes,
careless of the sympathetic interest of
the porters.
OF course | knew better than to hest
tate moment before burying myself in
the booking Office, and it was not till
the train drew up at the platform that
ostrusiyely passed the pair with my