Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1895-05-18

ifo onh an SfoGfAst nssa~~-~
there is nothing wrong. Put me UP a
bag, and look me out the next conven-
lent train TO towp-Im meet you at the
Lions Head" in half an hour Then,
turning to me, he said, An awful nuI-
sance. l shall have to leave at once.
Shall you be here when l return2'
II have settled to stay here during
the summer
"'Ah! / shall be back again in less
than a week, hope; but don't want
to lose you again.
"'Mr. Ray l interrupted, laughing,
when did you first lose mep'
II will tell you when / come back
looking at me steadily-'and also what
| was going to tell you when that fell
low stopped me. Do you feel any curl
osity to know what Ii wasp
Am / not a woman / answered,
and IL not curiosity woman's besetting
sinp'
THAT is only a general answer he
said somewhat impatiently; and then
he added very irrelevantly, i wish l
could paint
VIVA put that idea into your
head?' l asked in establishment; it was
the first time / had heard of any such
longing on his part.
IF l could paint, l would paint you
as you stand now, with your cheeks
the color off, don't know anything
pretty enough; and the wind has blown
your hair into the most tantalizing Of
little curls-there is one just by YOUR
ear that wouldn't be half a second II a
pair Of scissors were within reach! l
wish | had q picture of you. Have you
a photograph Of yourselfY'
bsDo~onoy ra,liaA prnunpft,, In;no
my best to check a growing tendency
keeps them all, so that I can refresh
myself, when I grow old, with visions
Of what I used to be-
Il was talking utter rubbish just for
the sake of talking; but / do not think
my companion was listening to me.
With puckered brows he was staring
on the ground; and, when | stopped,
he turned round, and, to my relief,
walked on without any more sentiment
tai wishes OF regrets.
~ am coming In to wish Miss Mil
burne goOd-by,S he said when we
reached Anchor Cottage.
"'Auntie is in the parlor.' / informed
him, looking into the room as l passed.
III go and take my things of while
you exchange farewells.'
II shall see you AGAIN. he said
quickly, following me as I went to-
wards the stairs.
IF you are not gone when I come
down. l replied, turning round on the
second stair to answer.
las | shall not 60 until you do come
down, that is all right he responded
with a frank bright glance.
"'What if 1 have avery bad head
ache, and don't come down again to-
nighty' l suggested, with a smile.
You'd never! All, Olive dar-
ling
For a minute / was struggling in his
arms-the next l had hurried upstairs,
and was locking my bedroom door,
with q wild idea that he would come
after me. l threw myself into a chair
and tried to recover my usual self-pos-
session. Whose fault was il that such
a thing had happened? had certain
ly noticed that once or twice Mr.. Raw
had been what is generally termed
'spOony;' most young men however
have an inclination that way when
they meet a pretty girl. i had snubbed
1t, as l always did snub any such synip-
toms; but that my Stumbling had not
been successful was self-evident.
Il am afraid l was not SO angry
about it as l should have been, and, In
stead OF determining that / should
never see him again, and would not
think any more about 1t, l found my
self listening to hear whether ne had
gone, and wondering whether he would
keep his word, In spite Of his misde-
meanor, and stay until l put in an APP
pearance.
"'Auntie will get rather tired Of the
young giant l thought, able to laugh
when | grew calmer.
"NOlive, my DEAR called auntie from
the foot Of the stairs, 'Signor Tosti Is
Lere and wishes to see you.'
what was l to do!' 1t would be so
unusual TO refuse to gee the Signor;
but face my Ray again / felt l could