The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1896-11-24

good nerve and steady hand, and If the
worst comes there is no one left to care"
He opens the door and prepares to step
out on to the iron framework of the huge
wheel.
At the sight of the man whom had so
truly loved In my girlhood sub5ecting him
self to this awful risk every Vestige of the
petulant pride that had dominated me a
moment before vanished. only saw my
lover OF former dAys-the only man who
had ever really stirred my heart-in dan
ger.
I leaned forward, holding out imploring
hands to him.
he had already begun to descend. I
bent forward and tried to reach him.
His left arm is stretched upward, grasp
ing the girders above him.
What is that CLEAN of gold see at his
wristP All, recognize it! My bangle,
that he took from me years ago and had
soldered on to his own arm A mist of
tears dim my eyes. I lean forward, stretch
ing my arms toward him.
fStay, Cecil, for my sakep'
How did 1t happenY could never quite
tell. / missed my footing For second
my brain reels, and then find myself
firmly clasped In his right arm, while with
his left and with feet and knees he clings
desperately.
"Madge, Madge," he says hoarsely, "for
Gods sake, nerve yourself! Cling to some
thingl / cannot hold you like this long.
Try all you know"
II will" And suit the action to the
word by grasping the lower part of the
door sill with both hands. "Promise me
you will not attempt the descent"
"No, will not; swearl''
He is still holding me, for my feet are
below the steps. We are in hideous peril,
but one dare not realize it.
1 have cause now to be thankful that an
annual mountaineering in Switzerland has
strengthened my nerve and muscle
Somehow I regain the car in safety
Cecil Is quickly beside me, and then-oh,
bling into his arms. 1t does not seem to
to his heart and soothed and fondled as /
used to be in the old days before he left
me.
"Madge, dear little girl, you have not
forgotten me after alls'
Never, never, though tried so hard
And your
1T tried to when heard you were fond
of some one else.
II never was"
"Why did you write as you dids'
81 thought you did not care any more"
"By the same mail got letter from
my cousin saying you were engaged to
that lanky Irishman, Malone"
(Which cousinf'
Gertrude Gray"
"Why, Cecil, she must have wanted to
part us. Yes, always thought she cared
for you."
He fushes and says, "Was there no truth
In the report about Malone, Madges"
Not word, indeed, and indeed
He bends and kisses my lips.
"Madge-little sweetheart that used to
love mel was going to see Gertrude this
evening to ask her to take pity on lonely
man in the far east Shall gof''
He has to bend low for the answer. But
it is No." emphatic, though whispered,
and he is satisfied.
Every one has heard of the night out in
the great wheel
Sixteen hoursl A wearisome time to
many, but we had the story of five years
to tell each other and plans to make for
the future 1t was none too long. God
freys band below, brought close to the
wheel to relieve the tedium Of the term of
imprisonment, playing wild, sweet waltz
music, formed fitting accompaniment to
the talk in which "Do you remember"
was ever on our lips.
The brave tar who did climb the girders,
bringing refreshment to the prisoners,
seemed to take in the situation and offered
us his congratulations in the heartiest
manner imaginable Cecil was half in
clined to be angry, but happiness won the
day. and he ended by giving the sailor a
most wildly extravaganza "backsheesh.
We sent a telegram to Aunt Mary, which
she never got, for she did not go home, as
I had hoped she would, but she spent the
night in the gardens close at the foot of
the inert monster.
When at last the word was passed up
that all was right and we should soon
move, 1t was to us subject of regret, and
the descent was all too rapid.
Aunt Mary was on the spot to receive
me, full Of regrets and commiseration.
81 shall never forgive myself for not
coming. Fancy your spending all those
hours alone on that most terrible wheelr'
81 was not alone. met friend You
have heard Of Mr.. Farquhar, auntiep''
She had, as having behaved very badly
to me- She gave him look which was
quite healthily vicious.
IT have not the pleasure of his aoquaint-
ance"
sWe must remedy that, Mrs Earle, I" he
says pleasantly, because 1t Is my good
fortune to be your prospective nephew
She looks at me, fairly puzzled.
cts all right, Aunt Mary. Up there
people understand one another better.
Perhaps the rarefed air sharpens the per-
ceptions."
Cecil laughs, and we all go off to break
fast at the expense of the Earl's Court ex-
hibition roprietors.-Answers.
Those India Shawls,
The Prince of Wales, 1t is said, does CO.