Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1894-08-30

how / ran then! | knew your dog
would not hurt me, but was afraid of
COWS; there were some lying down,
and they got up as I ran past, and /
screamed right out, was so scared. I
watched you sitting here through the
window, your dog at your feet. You
| looked so good and kind felt could
go right in and tell you; perhaps you
had sister who died, or some one you
loved; you would hate to think they
should go back to that dreadful place,
and you would think of me alone and
friendless, and help me-"
She went to him and clung to his
arm, trembling and.sobbing. "You will
not send me back? you will not send
me back?'
You know l will not; but what
shall do, if anyone should see you
here? Don't cry like that; l can't think
what to do. Try to be brave"
She lifted her tear-wet face. "If
you knew my life for two years, Mr..
Oliver, you would think | had been
brave: 1t is not fear that makes me
cry now, only that you are kind and
there is some one in the wide world
who will help me-"
''Now sit down again, he said, draw
ing the chair up for her. Let US plan
what to do. Where is your aunt now?"
"In Newcastle, Me-, my dear old
home. She is my fathers sister, and
lives there all alone. She was out to
visit me, but she and Henri quarreled;
she is a great big woman and she
slapped him-oh, / was so gladl" vim
dictively-"and he just went into fits
about it, the insult to the family honor
She thought, though, because | was
married / must make the best of things;
she's a member of the orthodox church
back there, and they are very particu-
lar | thought you could take me to
the railroad and lend me the money to
pay my fare; he has all my money, you
know, and never gives me any-for
fear, I suppose, would run away
But Aunt Hannah will pay you; she's
| awfully honest, but she wants her due
| TO the last farthing; that's New Eng
land, you know"
She half smiled, and leaned back In
the chair comfortably. The ridiculous
dog was fast asleep after his trials.
| Oliver thought it not unlikely Mrs de
| Restaud would take a nap too.
He went swiftly and woke up Mike
and sent him for his horses and the
| blackboard. Mike looked out of the cor
ner Of his eye at the young woman; he
| knew who she was, for he was an observ-
| ing youth, and he whistled softly to
| himself while he harnessed the mettle-
some horses. Oliver saw the look, and
| felt the first cold water of the worlds
| criticism.
"Now, the money question need not
bother you at ALL" he said, coming
| back to her side "You see, I'm a
well-to-do old bachelor, with no de-
rnands upon me. When you get to
Maine you can send it back or not,
| just as you please owe you some
thing for that supper, you know"
''That supper You bad to gobble for
fear of Henri2 Wasn't it funny?"
"a case of boy and frogs; what was
fun to you was death to me-"
! "You were not afraid n bit," she
said, looking up with admiring eyes.
81 have thought of you so much since
| that day, and I always pictured you
| afraid of nothing and doing all sorts
| of brave acts"
Oliver had very uncomfortable
| feeling that he was decidedly afraid
| this moment of what the world would
say. He could even fancy DR.. Johns
cool incredulous glance, and his
"Craig, haven'tyou had lessons enough
in the past?" and 'it's a dangerous
| path, old boy"
you are very kind to think of me at
ALL" he said, distantly. "And, now,
| haven't you a hat?"
"No, nor shawl. I'll be queer
| looking traveller"
"That Turkish dressing-gown of the
| doctor's-could that be used as an ul-
ster?"
"It might, by lunatic. Perhaps I
could play that" she said, hopefully.
leave that for me, Mrs. Minny,"
| laughed Oliver; "Dr. John will think
after this, I need not play It, That
cap of his-he don't look human in it,
but you might try"
| II have been looking at 1t. Does It
dop" putting it coquettishly over her
| curls.
Every becoming. You could be &C.
| centric, you know, and prefer to make
your own hats; for that has a home
made look. There, believe he has a
shawl DR.. John is a regular old maid,
| luckily for u.s."
He brought her n thick gray shawl,
which he draped over her shoulders. 1t
quite covered her. and she looked
very small and odd
you look like child in its big sis
| ter's Clothes" Oliver said, abruptly
| leaving her. He was not made of iron,
| and she kept looking at him with
happy, affectionate eyes. Haven't
| you shawl-pin?"
"How could l, when had no shawl?"
| she laughed. "Do you think women
are pincushions?"
He departed and rummaged around
| in his room; then he returned in tri-
| umph with diamond scarf-pin.
Some woman gave me that atrocity;
| 1t will do well for the shawl"
~ am glad to take it away because a
woman gave it to you. hate to think
Of anybody else liking you. Is DR..
John young man?"
Oliver thought she was either an ex-
perienced firt or the most innocent of
| young persons, but her liking was SO
honest and apparent he felt the better
| for it.
"No, Mrs. Minny; he is an old chap,
like me-"
"T do not think you DID," with ten
der glance. Besides, I'm twenty my
self"
He put on his overcoat in silence and
! turned out the lamp. Must the dog
go?" he asked, resignedly.
"Of course. I would die without
him"
Mike was waiting with the horses.
"Where will be afther tellin' the doc
tor ye've gone, sor?" he asked, calmly,
as II midnight elopement was not un-
usual
Tell him." said Oliver, thoughtful
ly, "that Mrs. de Restaud came to me
for assistance to get to the railroad,
and took her there; there was moth
ing else to do. He must say nothing If
De Restaud comes, and keep him from
finding out, if possible, that helped
his wife. | trust to your Irish wit
Mike, to send him away from the cabin
in the dark. If can make it 1 will be
back here by noon tomorrow"
1.-THE greaser livin' foreninst the
wather tank have good harse, sor,"
said Mike, as he cautiously released
the horses heads and they started
down the road at gallop.
The night was warm and pleasant;
+bo hla1y from far