The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1893-03-29

Win d III WdIO J6Ek OI bu0 GILL; i
shall take no house that l can't see
every inch Off and she founced out.
All day long Dorcas fought the army
of Investigators yaliantly, and at night
as she herself observed, "she was ies'
as tired as if she'd done double DAVIS
wash. Stout ladies peered into the
sub-cellar and denounced the drain
age; lean ladies poked their parasols
into the kitchen sink and tore off
strips of ths hall paper. Deep-voiced
men parleyed as to the monthly rental;
fat old gentlemen asked questions in
husky accents.
The next morning, however, dove
winged peace once more settled on the
field of action. The agent came up
and removed the bill.
'The house is taken," said he.
@Who's took it?" demanded Dorcas,
who CHANGED just then to be securing
the brasses. But the agent either did
not know or would not tell Dorcas
heaved a deep sigh. "Den," says she,
"we've got to el'ar out"
The landlord sent Selma polite
note in day or two. He had con-
cluded, he wrote, to accept her offer
of the furniture and belongings as an
equivalent for certain portion of the
unpaid rent.
@Now," said Dorcas, "what is we to
doP"
Poor Mrs. Spencer was all in fut-
ter. The Newport scheme delighted
her, and she was very busy looking
over her wardrobe with reference to
the coming visit. Selma had written
to the aunt of an old schoolmate of
hers, who kept a boarding house in
the fair seaside city, asking her lowest
prices for comfortable room. Dor
cas- was to 90 with Mrs. Spencer as at
tendant and maid, and Selma had re-
solved to hire room in New York and
board herself as we'll as she could.
"But this has been a dear old home,"
she murmured. "I wonder who will
sleep in my room. l wonder whose
hands will strike the yellow keys of
mammals old piano, and dust my flow
ing blue china, and arrange the old
fiddle backed chairs. F"
The purple sunlight shone softly in;
the scent of a stalk of hyacinths in a
glass on the mantel brought back rem
iniscences of the old southern flower
gardens, and all of sudden a voice
which she had last heard in those very
gardens struck on her ear.
"Selina-have 1 startled you?"
He extended a cordial hand.
perhaps you fancied 1 could not
trace you out?" said he. "But l am
better at hide and seek than you
thought"
She courtesied haughtily. His hand
some countenance fell Evidently he
woc 6aoply diCaDpoinfod
"Are you not glad to see me, ,Selina?"
he exclaimed. "Ah, Selma! l had
counted so much on this interview! l
had planned to renew my suit-to ask
you once again to be my wife"
She drew her slight figure up.
"You are presuming too much on
ley," said she. 81 refused when l was
Miss Spencer, of Spencer Vale. What
sort of woman should l be if l were
now to accept you-simply as pro-
lection against adversityP"
"But, Selma"
"Pray excuse me from any further
discussion of the question" said Sc
! lima.
MAY not hope to see your mother?s
he persisted.
Il SnOulQ prefer not.
"Do you know, Selma" he said, after
brief silence, "that this is a very bit
ter modification to meP"
as it? Then what must it be to
me?" she retorted, almost fercely,
| looking up at him.
He stood a second or two gazing
sadly at her. Stung by his scrutiny
she swept from the room like an an
gered princess.
| Half minute later she came hurry
ing back, full of sweet, strange mis-
givings. But he was gone.
81 have let another opportunity slip
by!" she murmured. "Oh, heavens
where is my life drifting to?"
At that moment Aunt Dorcas ush.
cred in the landlord fussy, bald
headed old gentleman, with fur col.
lar to his coat.
"Good evening, Miss Spencer" SAID
he. 81 expected to meet the new party
here"
"The-I beg your pardon" said Sc.
lima.
"The gentleman who has purchased
this house and furniture" explained
Mr.. Beasley, "and settled it on your
self and your mother. A friend o
yours, I suppose-Mr. Berkeley"
Standing sadly in the shadow of th'
rustling poplar boughs outside, Georg'
Berkeley felt the magnetic infuenc'
of another presence. A soft voice
stirred the twilight air like the far-of
music of forgotten days.
"Mr. Berkeley" it said-"George!-
please will you forgive me?"
daad cilancn enSue6
won't you, George?" with little
sob in the voice. "I-I don't mean tt
speak so harshly to you. l didn'
know then what 1 know now of youl
noble generosity"
Silence-only silence still.
"If l accept it for dear mammal
sake, you surely will not misinterpre
me. Oh, George! how can you be 81
cruel? Why don't you answer me
What are you waiting for me to say?
And still no word broke that haunt
ing silence!
%George," in a low voice, "I'v
changed my mind. j will be you
wife!'
He took her in his arms.
"Dear sweetheart" he murmured
"Dear little melting snow wreath.
knew that love would conquer you a
J last!"
When Mrs. Spencer heard of the en-
ga9ement she said quietly:
, q always thought they cared fo
each other, but since your master died
Dorcas, my poor head has scareel
/ been itself; but make haste and fnis
the packing. We are going to New
port, are we notP"
And so the wedding trip was to New
port. Toronto Null.
Life Grows Topsy-Turvy.