Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1896-07-25
W. va. SATURDAY. JULY 25. 1896.

EHGuElE- Inc liH WAS 1Hf1NGEHt GlOkAssi1-
They aren't taught to think falsehood
anything serious She was just trifie
shy and shrinking, like a little girl who
puts her hands behind her and lowers
her lashes at the advances Of a stranger.
In fact, that is exactly what she did.
You should have seen those lashes.
You'd have been just as big fool as
was and have staid until the moon
rose and made an appointment for am
other meeting, and eventually you d
have fallen as badly in love as did.
1--WE always met under this tree. II
was on her fathers land, but quite out
of sight of the house. She said that If
he were to find us together he would re-
double his brutality, bat assured her
that if we were discovered we would
run off at once and get married. The
child was in one of her acqniescent
moods and lowered her eyes and agreed.
OF course | could only manage to get
away on Saturday evenings or Sundays
this is the anniversary Of our meeting,
by the bye; you see cling to old MEM
ories-but we made the most of our
time. never had been so infatuated as
I was with that Spanish child. with her
tawdry, bright frocks, her shy ways,
her gorgeous eyes and her broken Eng
lish. She really was Spanish and not
Mexican, | learned. 2
"They all are, . / ventured.
II know, but your sarcasm is wasted.
In this case it was beyond question, and
there was American blood in her veins,
too--a little of it.
81 insisted upon running away with
her and getting married at sea, and
after no end Of refusals, she finally con-
scented. Oh, was far too smitten, too
ensnared, to have it occur to me then
how match of the SORT would hamper
girl would prove thorn in my flesh in
the critical town clique; what social
drag she would be upon mel | knew
the family would raise particular Cain,
but when man wants to marry IN spite
of his family he is apt to look upon it
as small stone to be- kicked out of his
path, and it takes him some time TO dis
cover that his pebble is a good sized
bowlder.
but we quarreled. A long pause,
while Barry lit another cigar from the
old one and pulled it into glowing. |
kept silence, and after awhile be went
on: "You may think most women are
fiery, but you should try a Spani;rd.
She got the cruel father-a harmless,
shriveled up old fellow-to take her in
TO town behind one of his trotters one
day. She wanted to buy gown. which
she told him was for some kind of a
bale out here, but it was really to get
married in. had brought her sample
of the stuff l wanted her to get; other
wise she'd have appeared in pink and
green and white lace beyond doubt.
Well, she saw me on the street with
a city girl. believe it was Nora Clarke,
You remember her? She was the merest
acquaintance, as you know, and treat
ed her as one does any woman one hap
pens to meet. We passed confection-
er's, and /, naturally enough, asked her
to have some soda wafer. I don't sup
pose I'd have done tiff I'd known that
Ysadora was around, simply because /
was aware that che wouldn't take it as
an American fancee would have done.
But she was around, and she thought
! was doing the deadly devoted, so the
next Saturday, when we were to have
run away, she met me with reproaches
and tears and deviltry generally. She
wouldn't listen to reason. She tore up
the new gown and refused ever to mar
ry me or any other man, and she used
some strong but musical Spanish. fam
ey she was more jealous than hurt, but
well, / was completely done up. To
say that she looked more beautiful than
ever would be to put it weakly. When
| saw her disappear for good over be-
hind that clump of eucalyptus, l was
on the verge of suicide. Pity stopped
at the verge.
"The fellow who has since built the
hotel bought this spot, that saw our
meeting and our parting, when her old
father died, "a year or SO later.
"You came along just as was going
over old memories and wishing--I sup
pose ! should not say it-wishing that
it We're six years ago, and that was
still blindly infatuated with my Span
ish sweetheart of f6. =
| am not fond Of the modern uafinish-
ed story. | want to see the heroine laid
in her grave by host Of weeping
grandchildren, and the hero following
her contentedly soon after, so asked,
But what became Of the grip
Nothing ever becomes unreal life, ;"
he answered.
Where is she now?'' I persisted.
I'm the ballroom, dancing the cotil-
lon with Thornton. .
Then
Eyes. We made it up after her IA
TIERS death and were married-on dry
land-and have lased happily ever aft
er. he added, Struggling his shoulders
and throwing away his cigar. Gwen
dolen overton in San Francisco Argo-
naut