Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1894-04-18

udrIieu "a, you kuOW-Iudt sHe udu
cared for him so very, very much he
might be little sorry?"
''If he were a gentleman, he would
regret it deeply"
Il meaE-sorry on his own account,
that-that he had thrown away all that,
you know?'
The professor looked meditative.
81 think, he pronounced, ''that it is
very possible he would. can well i'm.
agine it.
HE might never find anybody to
love him like that again" she said,
gazing Oh tho cleaning paddock.
''He probably would not, % agreed the
philosopher.
''And-and most people like being
loved, don't they?"
''To crave for love is an almost uni
versal instinct, Miss May
eyes, almost,'' she said, with a
dreary little smile. ''You see, he'll get
old and-and have no one to look after
him."
'sHe will"
''And no home"
"Well, in sense, nome" corrected
the philosopher, smiling. "But really
you'll frighten me- I'm bachelor my
self, you know, Miss May.
eyes" +" she whispered just audibly.
''And all your terrors are before me. }"
''Well, unless -
s'Oh, we needn't have that unless, ,"
laughed the philosopher cheerfully.
''There's no unless about it, Miss
May"
The girl jumped to her feet For an
instant she looked at the philosopher.
She opened her lips as if to speak, and
at the thought of what lay at her
tongues tip her face grew red. But the
philosopher was gazing past her, and
his eyes rested in calm contemplation on
the cleaning paddock.
ga beautiful thing-sunshine to be
sure" said he
Her blush faded away into paleness;
her lips closed. Without speaking she
turned and walked slowly away, her
head dropping. The philosopher heard
the rustic of her skirt in the long grass
of the orchard He watched her for
few moments.
ga pretty, graceful creature said
he, with smile. Then he opened his
book, took his pencil in his hand and
slipped in a careful forefnger to mark
the fly leaf.
The sun had passed midheaven and
began to decline westward before he fin
ished the book. Then he stretched him
self and looked at his watch.
''Good gracious, 2 O'Clock! shall be
late for lunchP' And he hurried to his
feet.
He was very late for lunch.
''Everything's cold," walled his host
ess "Where have you been, Mr.. Jern-
ingham?''
"Only in the orchard, reading
'And you've missed May!'
''Missed Miss May? How do you
mean? had long talk with her this
morning. most interesting talk. -
''But you weren't here to say good
by. Now, you don't mean to say that
you forgot that she was leaving by the 2
O'Clock train? What a man you arep'
''Dear me, to think of my forgetting
it!" said the philosopher shamefacedly.
''She told me to say goodby to you
for her.
''Shes kind. 1 can't forgive myself ="
His hostess looked at him for mo-
ment Then she sighed and smiled and
sighed again.
"Have you everything you want?"
she asked.
Everything, thank you," said he,
sitting down opposite the cheese and
propping his book-he thought he would
just run through the last chapter again
against the loaf; everything in the
world that want, thanks. -
His hostess did not tell him that the
girl had come in from the apple orchard
and run hastily up stairs, lest her friend
should see what her friend did see in her
eyes, so that he had no suspicion at all
that he had received an offer of mar
riage and refused it. And he did not re-
fer to anything Of that sort when he
paused once in his reading and ex-
claimed:
''I'm really sorry missed Miss May.
That was an interesting case of hers.
But gave the right answer The girl
ought to marry A"
And so the girl did.-Anthony Hope
in English Illustrated Magazine.