Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1895-09-10
HEARTS DESIRES.

"Couidnt you wsSt for msf asked the
boy eagerly.
hwait for yout What nm absurd Ideal"
laughed the girl. "why, you arc only I6.
II vii be ten ye~ps mt least before you are
abls TO msvry, and In ten years ] shall be
quite old. You soe," continued tho girl
tagely, "I'am old enough to be married
now, and thst IN whore tho difference
comes In. And I am going to be present.
cd and go 10 parties and wear lovely frocks
Il do hate those shabby old things--and
then / shall marry somebody rich and great
and live I'm tho world. I'm NO tired OF this
little poky place, with nothing but les
sons and Sunday scblr children and rheu-
matte old women -gyhcn suddenly look
ing down mt tho golden haired lad stretch
ed on tho turf at her fcet-"only, Of course,
l shall miss you, Herbert"
"Tbat IL all very well for you, but what
IL to become OF moi want 20 marry for
love, and how can / IL you 90 and marry
somebody elseY said tho boy plaintivcly.
at IL quito easy" answered the girl as
she plucked n stem OF towering grass, then
gravely counted, "'This year, next year,
some time, never this year; think Of
that You must, of course, fall In love
with somebody who isn't married. You
can't really be I'm love with me, think,
because you are SO young. and am not
in love with you. 1 am almost the only
girl you know, and you arc used to me-
We are like brother and sister, but that
isn't love"
"How do you know" asked the boy
jealousy. "Are you in lover Old Tomp-
kins Is the only man about here"
Don't be cross. Old Tompkinsl A
bald head, spcctaclcs and perpetual sniff
nn No in with IN
man mt all. I'm In love with life and
wealth and power. II you'd always worn
ihideous old frocks that didn't fit and had
been kept at home all your life with stupid
govcrnesses, because 1t Is no good spend
ing money on a girl until 1t will pay from
the marrying point of view, you would
know what I feel like. But you have
your ambitions too. You want to be q
great poet; you want all the world to sec
the rocks and woods and the everchanging
sea as you see them, and to hear the sky
lark and the nightingale as you hear them.
Isn't that enough for your"
"No, want all that and more too. Oh,
Meg, can't you see that you have been tho
inspiration of all my poetry, that 1t Is for
you I've written the songs the birds sing
tome and painted the pictures our eyes
have seen together? This beautiful place
will be all empty and drear when you arc
gone. Must you gop Stay here as we
have been until get some money. II you
go cannot come after you, and what am
I to do hereP"
The girls face grew troubled and her
eyes wandered far out to sea, where a
white sail had just appeared above the
horizon.
-
"Who does she say she isP'
'"She's the widow Of Lord Hardworth.
He was fabulously rich and held some
position In the last cabinet, but nc was
an awful skinflint and not exactly what
he should have sen in other respects
He's been dead about two years. Splendid
woman, isn't she? But she looks as though
she had not found life all beer and skit-
ties"
II believe know something Of her then.
Wasn't she Sir John Haughton's only
daughterp'
"Yes, and an uncommonly pretty girl.
Directly she came out she carried off the
prize of the season--at least so my mother
said, and she was pretty sure to know the
quality Of the goods upon the market, be-
cause my second sister came out that same
spring.
Look, she's speaking to that curious
looking little man with the red hair who
turned up at table d'hote yesterday. He
looks like musician or an artist. Dear
me, how she has frightened up What
will you bet he isn't an old lover. She
doesn't look more than 90, with that pref
ty blush and the smile, and to think of
their being thrown away on that withered
specimen of humanity. They are strolling
into the pine wood. If that isn't the last
chapter, of romance in real life, III ven
ture to eat my hat. I must find out who
the fellow is"
"You need not trouble, my dear chap
You're ridiculously behindhand, or you d
know that that is our only poet, Herbert
| Blaxtone."
"That Herbert Blaxtonel Well, I'd
never have thought 1t. always did say
that geniuses and poets in particular
should conceal their personality It's SO
disillusioning to know that your favorite
sonnet was written by soarecrow. But
there's no accounting for the tastes Of
women, and I dare say the fair widow
thinks him an Adonis. A bachelor, isn't
hep'
"A widower, fancy. Anyway his wife
has been dead for years. He's nothing like
the guy you would make out. You are
jealous, old man, because the fair widow
as you call her, has steadily refused to
smile on your magnificent proportions
All the same, he's morose sort of fellow,
and nobody knows much about him. Ho
was frightfully poor at one time, I believe,
and had moro than the usual difficulty In
convincing the critics that his verses
weren't twaddle But he's a treanendous
swell now."
"And of course my lady Is beginning to
look out for No. 3. Kismet, 1t is fatet''
"And you went into the world and found