The herald., 1894-01-07
BADLY MIXED.


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 ol
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 un-
usual intellectual gifts. He had known
her only year, but they were on terms
of the most friendly intimacy.
He was a constant visitor at her ia
ther's house and her ready attendant at
places of social amusement. He felt
that he must become either less or 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.
Agnes was in great sorrow and shun-
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 corresponded 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
friend, but she stood in too intimate re-
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 remembered
with what impatience 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 unimpaired, 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 Paines,
vowing to decide before he went home.
He came home more deeply in love with
Dora than ever, to find a letter from
Agnes had still all it's old power over
him. He was growing thin. Where was
this matter to end?
One night at the club he said to
brother member, "Hal, what do you do
when you can't decide between two ap-
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
elf.
Hal threw up the coin. He watched
the result eagerly.
"TaiIs!' 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, vet 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 II
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 a wedding and
were not to be home till Thursday. He
went around to Josephine's 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 centl' he exclaimed &C.
slatically. This makes all clear sail
ing. Dora will be home tomorrow. and
I'll be an engaged man before another
week. Thursday night is the Beldon
ball. I'll settle matters there"
IL ~,;<~bk <.os,,o D0ro x1Jac ho-