Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1894-01-26
BADLY MIXED.


: sure that his passion was returned.
That being the case, and his financial
condition warranting him marrying
whenever and whomever he pleased,
one might expect him to be very hap
py man indeed. instead of which he
was plunged into the lowest depths of
despair.
The trouble was this: Mr.. Middleton
was in love with two women instead of
one, and he positively could not decide
which Of the two he wanted to marry.
He loved them both with all his heart,
and he was certain that each of them
was only waiting for him to make his
declaration in due form to tell him how
much she loved him in return.
The first young woman at whose
shrine he worshiped was Dora Paine,
a sprightly little brunette, with charm
ing manners, beautiful face and I'M
usual intellectual gifts. He had known
her only year, but they were on terms
of the most friendly intimacy.
He was constant visitor at her IA
theirs house and her ready attendant at
places of social amusement. He felt
that he must become either less OF more
/ at once. His manly instincts demanded
that he should delay the matter no
longer.
But there was Agnes Moulton. Dur
ing the preceding winter an old friend
of his mother had visiting her young
orphan girl by that name.
| 81,
ned all gay society. Mrs. Grytan beg
| ged him to come often to help her cheer
her visitor, and this cheering process
| had led to his second infatuation. He
had correspondent with Agnes ever since
she went back to her brothers. home,
| and he was sure from the tone of her
| letters that she returned his affection.
What was he to do? He puzzled over
the relative merits Of blond and bru-
nette, weighed in the balance the nu-
merous virtues of each, tried every pos
sible and impossible plan for finding
out ones own mind-all to no purpose.
He was too thoroughly ashamed of HIM
self to take any one into his confidence.
Mrs. Grytan was his nearest matronly
L44C1iNiJ Dut HllC SUOOo LII wv lnt1JildLO IT,
lations with Agnes to be considered for
a moment. If it were any other matter,
he would go to Josephine, but he could
never own himself such fool to her.
He had known Josephine Ferris all
his life. Only year his Junior, she
seemed quite passe compared to the girl
to whom he paid his addresses nova
days.
He was 35 now, and he remen bered
with what impotence he had waited for
the day he attained his majority, that
he might lay his fortune at her feet in
truly heroic fashion.
She was 20 then, and she laughed at
him for a silly boy. Their friendship
had remained uniinpaired, however,
and Josephine had gone on teasing and
lecturing him just as she had done since
they were babies. In later years their
friendship had grown to be a very pleas
ant one, and Josephine seemed to him
like an older sister.
He went to her in all his perplexities,
and she had had no little share in his
professional success. But he had never
spoken to her of love affairs indeed
till this present dilemma he had never
had any since his boyish devotions to
Josephine herself.
So he hid his trouble and brooded over
it. He spent evenings at the Paine's,
vowing to decide before he went home.
He came home more deeply in love with
Dora than ever, to find letter from
Agnes had still all its old power over
him. He was growing thin. Where was
this matter to end?
One night at the club he said to a
brother member, Hal, what do you do |
when you can't decide between two APP
parently equally good courses of ac-
tion?''
Toss up. Settle things every time,
feeble brain over decisions that won't |
decide. Here you are, Gus. Heads or
tails?''
Heads. - For Agnes, he said to him
self.
Hal threw up the coin. He watched
the result eagerly.
"Tails!" exclaimed Hal. and tails it
was.
THANK you, I'll follow the coin.
Good night. Have an engagement
He started for the Paine's, cursing
himself all the way for his treatment of
Agnes, yet happy beyond measure in
the thought that the matter was finally
settled. He would write to Agnes to-
morrow and tell her of his engagement
to Dora, but no one else must know it
for the present except Josephine.
No one was at home at the Paines'.
Stupid of him to forget that they left
town that day to attend wedding and
were not to be home till Thursday. He
went around to Josephine and spent the
rest OF the evening. She played for him
as she only could play and chatted of
books, his work, the theater, all with
her matchless charm. Dora must be in
timate with Josephine when they were
married. He could not give up his
friend even for the dearest little wife
in the world, he thought.
The next morning came letter from
Agnes, and, joy of joys! she wrote him
that she was engaged to be married!
BLESS that cent? he exclaimed &C.
static ally. ''This makes all clear sail
ing. Dora will be home tomorrow, and
I'll be an engaged nan bclore another
week. Thursday night is the Beldon
ball. I'll settle matters there. -
Thursday night came. Dora was be-
witchingly attired in floating mass Of
pale yellow game which made her look
Ike an escaped sunbeam. Toward the
close of the evening he managed to get
her away from the circle of admirers
into the conseryatory-that paradise Of
lovers-where he poured out his passion.
What was his establishment and indig-
nation to meet with decided refusal!
She was already engaged, she assured
him. Her lover was poor, and she was
young, and it had been thought best not
to announce it at present. He reproach-
ed her with unfair conduct to himself,
and she replied: Il ara sure I never
dreamed of your meaning anything by
your little attentions to me- Every one
thinks you are engaged to Miss Ferris,
and Mrs. Grytan told mamma months
ago that she was sure there was an I'M
Outstanding between you and Agnes
Moulton."
/