Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1893-05-26
"Will you be so good, Miss
'NIiss Wingate," the typewriter
low-voiced.

accustomed to criticisms and cOrrec-
tions from my typewriter. l lay out
your work and expect you to do it, and
to do it, and to do it quietly. I don't
like -
81 presume you wish your letters to
be correct?" said the typewriter,
crisply.
81 am the best Judge of what is cor
rect" Mr.. Buckley answered, with
some sternness.
"But this letter." Miss Wingate
cried, softly, yet with the breathless-
ness of indignation. 'Itwasnt-why,
it wasn't-at all"
"Kindly finish it, said Mr.. Buck
ley, in tones conclusive.
There was silence for ten minutes;
then Mr. Buckley, feeling uneasy and
vexed and conscience-stricken, turned
and glanced at his typewriter.
"NIiss Wingate-" he said, falter-
ingly.
She was sitting with her back to
him. her fair head bent on her hand,
her fingers idle.
'T-Miss Wingate--" stammered
Mr.. Buckley.
He grew red in the face he pushed
his chair back and marched over to
her. There was nothing to be seen
save thick, blonde braids. He strode
around and faced her.
She got up hurriedly, her face
averted, but he pulled her back gently
to her chair, and sat down himself III
such a way as to pin her into her cor
ner
He was much fushed-the more so
because a pair of beautiful brown eyes
were raised to his. They were moist,
and the typewriter's sweet, full lips
were tremulous
Il am sorry fill am sorry, Miss
Wingate-very sorryl" Mr.. Buckley
gasped.
The girl before him was refined,
lovely, lovable, charming. That his
masculine eyes saw ON the instant, and
he felt himself the most miserable man
on earth
81 was trying to do it right" the
typewriter faltered. 81 meant to.
"OI, I know it" Mr.. Buckley re-
sponded, unhappily. 81 don't know
what allied me-that is, l do know!
I'm cross to day. don't feel exactly
well. and-of course that does not ex
cuse me-" said Mr.. Buckley, letting
his eye rove, disconsolately, pleading
". from her soft curls to her pretty,
round chin. g. have been rude in the
extreme. 1 ask your pardon, Miss
Wingate :"
But Miss Wingate lowered her
thick lashes in silence, her straight
nose rather high.
1T makes me feel-wretched ~ said
Mr.. Buckley.
He stared at the typewriter as
though dazed or hypnotized. 1t was
not her beauty alone; it was her look
of brightness and her pretty pride and
her sweetness which thrilled and CON
fused him-which caused him to feel
as he had never felt before.
81 supposed you wanted it cor
rected," Miss Wingate said, with re-
lenting symptoms
81 did. / was a bear-a-N-"
''Never mind it" said the type
writer, with a sudden, bright, upward
smile.
II won't if you don't, he answered.
"Well, l don't, she murmured.
She flushed little as she met his
gaze"
A soft radiance overspread Mr.. Buck
ley's distressed face. He was sitting
somewhat close to his typewriter, but
he did not move. There was a speaking
silence. The office boy, in far cor
ner, grinned family.
But the next instant Mr. Buckley
rose hastily and pushed back his chair.
The door had opened to admit Mr..
Hartman, his partner.
ooh, there you are p said Mr.. Harri-
man, looking at the typewriter. Il
got to the station and met Farnham
Just coming in, so didn't go on to
West Amboy, after all, " he exclaimed.
$50 you did Gomez" said Mr.. Harri-
man, smiling at Miss Wingate with a
familiarity which reused his partners
wrath. 81 didn't think you would.
Coming nearer, be patted Miss Win
gates cheek with two fingers
Mr.. Buckley's blood boiled but Mr..
Hartman took off his overcoat calmly.
you're acquainted by this time, 1
reckon, " he said; "but to perform my
formal duty. Kitty, Mr.. Buckley
my niece, Miss Wingate, Buckley"
Poor Mr.. Buckley Miss Wingate
glanced at him, and then dropped her
soft eyes in sheer pity. He was
touching sight.
"She's been learning typewriting
for fun of it, you see, Buckley" Mr..
Hartman continued, "and when L
mentioned to her that our typewriter
had failed us-Miss Pease sent me
word yesterday that she couldn't come
till Friday-Kitty said she could fill
4LL;u ood che xvo,,ld and she marched