The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1896-08-21
miscellaneous.
A COMEDY OF ERRORS.

| A COMEDY OF ERRORS.
1t all came about through listening
at the parlor door. Eavesdropping is
always a reprehensible proceeding,
| and when INDUCED in by a person
who has good grounds for believing
| that that PERSONS own self forms the
topic of conversation likely to be over
heard, the practice becomes altogeth-
er objectionable. Without desiring
in the least to justify the breach of
good manners committed when l.,
| Emma Summerford, applied my ear
! to the keyhole of our best room door
ON Il certain important occasion that
| happened quite recently, | am con-
| strained to think, nevertheless, that
there was some little excuse for my
| behavior.
You see, it was like this. Harry
Buttertield, the son of Col. Butter
field, of the British army, was desper-
ately in love with Inc, and | hope |
am not overstepping the bounds of
maidenly modesty by admitting that
was very fond of him in return.
Harry and | first met at dance
given by mutual friend, and as, in
| the manner of the story books, we fell
| in love with each other at the start
we were not slow in finding out how
| to strike an mountaineering. Harry
was an only son, and a sole surviv-
ing daughter, so that we had some
| thing in common outside the affection
that drew us together.
Harry lived with his father, mill
tary officer retired on half pay at Ken
sington, and | resided with mine in a
little villa at Chaplain; but although
the distance separating our two
abodes was great Harry generally
| managed to spend three or four even
ings week on the Surrey side of the
Thames.
My papa had formerly been in bust
ness in the Barbican, but having
made his pile' he sold off his horses.
with the exception of q favorite gray
mare, and bought the aforesaid villa,
which henceforward became our
home.
Harry was connected with riding
school at knightsbridge, and conse-
quently knew something about horses,
so that on the evenings he visited US
he used to spend part of the time con
versing with my papa about matters
ably the larger portion) he passed in
my company discoursing of love.
One evening. after working himself
up to the requisite pitch of passion,
Harry made me a proposal OF MARI
age. Although | had long seen it
coming, of course, pretended, in IL
| woman's regular way, that his offer
had quite taken me by surprise; and
| Notwithstanding the fact that | was
dying to say yes" | assured him that
could not possibly give him an an
swer for at least "A week. AS | expect
ed, he was so pressing, however, that
| consented without further delay and
| fell into his arms in the usual manner,
while he whispered VOWS of constancy,
| and so on. 1t was all very delightful,
| can assure you, and when it came to
a protracted ending, and Harry had
! taken his leave in the way common to
| lovers, | retired to rest the happiest
girl i'll Chaplain.
Harry had told me before going that
he had some little business with my
| father in the morning, and said he
would seize the opportunity thus af
| forded of getting papa's consent to
our marriage. When, therefore, the
| bell rang early the next day, and Har-
ry was admitted and shown into the
| parlor, where papa was reading the
auction news in the morning paper. of
course l knew what his errand was.
1t is a trying time for woman
when her lover is pleading for her
| hand to possible obdurate parent.
Not that thought my papa, with his
well-known regard for my welfare,
would offer any insuperable objection
to our union, but, being an only child,
| / knew it would cost him a pang to
part with me, and | was also well
aware that he would never give his
consent until assured of Harry's COM
potency to maintain a wife.
| was therefore naturally anxious as
| to the result of the interview, and
when it began to get unduly prolong
ed, was quite on thorns. My solicit
tude at length became so great that
| l left the housekeeper's room, where
| had been vainly endeavoring to fix
my attention on some preserves that
required tying down, and stole on tip
toe along the passage leading to the
parlor where my father and Harry
were engaged.
The door was just ajar, and without
really thinking that | was INDUCING
in an unladylike action, | bent my
head forward and listened. Harry
was talking.
"She enjoys pretty good health,
suppose - he asked inquiringly.
"Capital," was my fathers answer.
Never had an hours illness since the
day she was BORN
1t was kind of papa to say this, but
of course his statement was not liter
ally correct. Everybody has illness at
some time or other in their lives, and
| was no exception to the rule. AS a
child l had had whooping cough,
measles and the Group, among other
infantile complaints, to say nothing of
headaches and tic douloureaux since
| had grown up. But l suppose it
was because l always made a practice
of keeping my ailments as much as
possible to myself that papa-who
would not willfully deceive, bless him.
thought | had never been i'll. As |
say, it was kind of him, and l quite
appreciated his motive. l was Just
ing that the interview had not ended,
when Harry again spoke.
rs her appetite good -
1t was certainly a strange question,
and l could not see that it was at
all necessary one, but | confess | do
not understand mems ways. Papa
answered my lovers query by saying
that took meals regularly, and seem
ed to enjoy them, which must admit
was fact. Curiosity now made me
stay for Harry's next inquiry.
Has she any temper - he asked al
most directly.
1t was preposterous Temper!
soon should have, if inquiries such as
this were persisted in. In fact, it was
only papa's answer: Not the slight
est - uttered in his most assuring
manner, that prevented my develop
ing something of the kind at once. AS
! Il tho l,liSSfL,l f-.a of mind in