The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1895-05-25

up Tile HUI WlUl Cucl SctIC idkC3 hC
threw It into the fire. He would have
liked to see Cecilia herself consuming
in the blaze of that con~fiagration; he
had, indeed. already consigned her to
hotter flames.
Then he took a speedy resolution.
This time he could not let things slide.
There must be no mistake now. He
must not keep that obnoxious abe
tine an hour, unless he was willing to
let himself be compromised. He
caught up the locket, thrust 1t into its
box, and ~repacked it. 1t was going
back to Cecilia Dolce by the mex post.
The vicar had rarely before been so
angry. He did not even concern him
self to answer Cecilia's IOte. He just
sent the locket back in whitening 81
lence. IL that did not crush her and
choke her off forever, nothing ever
would. Perhaps it. was as we'll that
she had laid herself open to this crown
ing snub. The vicar took the locket
and posted it with his own hand.
But he had not yet done with Cecilia.
When the evening post came in at
o'clock it brought him another packet,
larger thar the last, bearing at the
head of it's label the address of a local
bookseller. The vicar opened IT. A
visiting card fell out. He could hardly
believe his eyes-"With Miss Dobee's
compliments" Was 1t possible that
after that tremendous snub which he
had inflicted upon her by returning
her locket, she had the face to send
him another present? 1t seemed IN
credible. But perhaps h had not re-
ceived the locket when this book was
despatched. He glanced at the work.
life of st. Athanasius," elegantly
bound in morocco, with a gilt cross
upon the cover. An unexeceptionable
present in itself. But under the cir
cumstances any present was an insult.
He tore up the card and tossed 1T into
the fire, impatiently. He left the BOOK
lying upon the table.
He then lighted a cigarette and sat
back in his chair meditating. The
vicar did not feel quite comfortable.
An idea had suddenly crossed his
mind. Surprising, by any remote
chance Ha! The front door bell!
What visitor was going to worry him
now at this hour of the evening? 1t
was too provoking of people to come
after dinner. The wears language
was again mclericaI. 1t was nearly
being still more so-only he checked
himself in time-when the parlor maid
threw open the door and announced:
"Mr. and Miss Dobee!'
The vicar sprang from his chair IN Q
hurry. He colored, and both looked
and felt embarrassed. There We're ne
two people in the world, at that mo
ment, whose presence could have made
him feel more awkward. Lawyer Do
bee, however, appeared to be quite al
home. He advanced and shook tn
vicar cordially by the hand.
Good evening, Endacott. l mus
apologize for our intrusion. This sill.
girl of mine said she must come ant
thank you at once for the handsom'
present you have sent her. And as
could not let her come alone so late
here we are both together, you see!'
"I-I-" began the vicar, with
very red face, "I-I-'
"Oh, I knew it was you, dear MI
Endacott." broke in Cecilia, with he
most unutterable look. 81 recognize
your handwriting on the address.
was so good of YOU. Such a Lowell
t locket. See! have put it on. Doesn'
it look nice?'
To Judge from the Wears face he di
not think that the locket looked at a
| nice-that is, if he saw it, which, in NJ
, present dazed condition, he probabl
did not. The sudden shock of this al
palling truth. that he had been too pr
cIpItate in returning to Cecilia Dobe
a locket which she had never sci
him, had almost stunned him. In tt
I face of an awkward situation he new
! showed much presence of mind. u
this occaSion-which, it must be a
|. mitted, was particularly AWKWARD
= --.- QUO IF his cnnEnC
X d." he stammered. that is
II -mcan-there-there has been a m
t take"
II "Ehw said Lawyer Dolce, sudden
becoming less cordial. "a mistake
II don't quite understand you, Mr.. e
l. dacott."
9 IL o~ught-ought to tell you," mul
e. bled the vicar. more confused tn;
l. eyer. Il mean to say-the fact is
t. is ~rather-rather difficult to explain
$50 it appears" observed Lawy
y Dobee, dryly. The Wears %confusit
m his embarrassment, his hesitate
r about speaking out, suggested an /;
X sence of straightforwardness In
T. conduct which made Cecilia's fail
Il eye him queerly.
"The truth Is" the vicar blurted o
~ trying. without much success. to p
- himself together. that the who'll
III fair has-has arisen out of a pure m
- apprehension. lift you will he
me out ! will-will explain 1t to you
vi "If you please. Mr.. Endacott," 81
IN Lawyer Dolce, regarding him will
grim stare.
The vicar told his tale. He did
- tell it at all we'll. 1t was perfec
true from first to last, but it lie
q sound true. Lawyer DObee's cold q
~ eyes confused hiG,, made him fal
", and hesitate. He stammered q
blushed like a man prevarlcat
lla Consequently his explanation. as
81 rendered it, was surprisingly lame.
NJ was evident that Cecilia's father
NV not believe q word of 1t
10 "A most extraordinary story.
l Endacott." he remarked at the end
~ at is the gospel truth; | give p,
ne nv word,' cried the unfortunate viz
"Umph!" was Lawyer Dobee's o
comment. His face wore a very
IN pleasant expression.
70 Come. Cecilia" he said, turning
his daughter. I'VE had better he
III. ing. In view of your eXtraordin
at- explanation, Mr.. Endacott, you s
IA -ah-hear from me further
Of
vet Lawyer Dopee was no' " !" "
the grass grow under his feet. Next
i'm he went uD to London and ~intervie'
ter n leWeler lrolh M.oln 'ne io,h',
been purchased. The latter prOdI
lie an order written III ne N1o". =
$ upon ynedon Vicarage note paper
- I'll