Middletown transcript., 1894-02-10

why MolRe is SO quiet. reelected Il
grandmother. "She haagot no mo-
stiffenin' to her to day Than a WI
SAIL"
She went out after tea Bt as she ha
often gone in the twilight to see tn
sunset clouds move across THE wester
waters like the gaudy, fahing canva
of vessels whose hulls we're hidde
below the horizon. The display SCENE
tame tonight. She had baen wont t
joke with the rough-mannered but kind
hearted boys, one Of whom she ex
pee ed, in a vague kind Of way, t.
marry some time; though now as lit
tie stirred by love for any one o
them as the seagull for the tumblins
waves it gambols with. She had littl,
to say tonight; was even cross to ont
of them, for which she quickly fell
sorry.
"Oh, Molliel" exclaimed her younger
sister Amy; she has been here and says
he is going away, and was real sorry
he couldn't see you, and eft this for
you"
Mollie did not ask Amy to match
this pronoun, this indefinite she" with
definite noun. Her heart beat ex-
citedly, painfully, and she laid her
hand upon it. Why was ii? This boy
from the States, this girl of Grand
Menan, had never confessed any liking
for one another, but blue eyes and
black eyes have their peculiar language.
Perhaps the weakness of this boy had
won the more strongly his companions
interest. He had leaned upon her in
many ways. Once, when the surf was
rough and she could not beach her boat
in the old landing place, she had rowed
to sand-spit, where, to reach the
shore, one must wade through the
shallow water.
"You'll be sick again if you take to
the water, and-and l must carry you,"
she said, laughing, and bore him, as if
he were little Amy, to the dry beach.
That night it seemed as if she had
lifted one who was her own child, and
her sympathy-she had never thought
of love-went out to him and gathered
itself about him. Then she liked him
for what he was, frank, unselfish,
ble-hearted boy, just now weak, max
ing sorry figure in contrast with the |
boys that could run and leap, swim and |
row; but stirred by a generosity of |
spirit in which a quick, feminine in
stinct detected the stuff out of which
heroes and martyrs are made. 1t was
HAT chance eeRpersati on overheard on
the shore that revealed the girls heart
20 her, and yet declared The hopeless
ness Of the relation between them
,wo souls standing on the brink of
'ocial chasln widening rapidly between
5hem. And lie Was going If she had
,ny been at hom, to Sc him once
nOrt! She now took from ANY the
'ox that had been left for her and car
led it up to her bare, brown sleeping
oom under the roof. Then she bore
to the window that looked toward
he west, and the last Of the light shot
Is rays into the box, and made warm
ircle of color whose centre was a gold
ing.
what he used to wear!" said Mol
e, the blood tingeing her cheeks till
hey glowed like one of the clouds in
he west. "Some writing" she said.
DO not forget me.'" A deeper red
lffused her cheeks.
'He said he wanted you to wear it,"
iped a little voice behind her. $
"Hush-sh-sh, Amyl Hush-sh-sh! |
hey'll hear you.' 8
That night, when she went to sleep, S
le wore this ring on the finger where
9trothed maidens wear the golden /
gn. In her dreams she seemed to be
liling over seas of widening splendor, |;
I'D at her side was Charlie Whipple; h
le his equal-his wife. 1t might be a il
INNER yacht she was in, but not the h
d brown fishing-boat. In her dream II
70 yacht ran upon sunken rock, and
her visions were upset in very cold 81
a of reality. She awoke to recognize il
at it was late. The sun was shining "
rough the old-fashioned little panes. q,
vealing the floor with its stains and o,
lot holes, the coarse coverlet on the
d, and the upholstered roof where r,
g nails from the shingles still pro-
,ted. She was ,nly fisher-girl of Il
rand Menan. II
"Mol.lie!, a.
1t was her grandmother calling. She is
Ok of her ring, hid it away, and l
essed. Oh, how dull and heavy the
rdens of the dayl m
Granny, if you don't care, won't ="
Off in the boat to-day" sc
land not pick up a penny, child, W
rryin' folks off? Where is that sickly s.
ap gone?' 1
II think, if you don't care, III 60 to b.
lool." sc
''Well," murmured the old woman. ol
nebbe your father will be as well is
'ased to have you at school," tie
Was it strange if one reason for al
ing to school was the hope that from g
9 elevated point in the road she
ght see the stage that probably kt
'uld bear away Charlie Whipplep al
And there it isl" she was saying, W
king off from that point.
No, it was only her fathers Gsh-cart pc
ling slowly over the rough road. sa
'Oh, dearl'' she sighed, and slowly SC
liked to the schoolhouse. yo
'Mollie here?" asked her school to
A.r.