The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1896-06-04

wears since she set the country mad
with her beaux and her fun and her
daring escapades. And now she was a
widow, rich, handsomer than ever. "An'
eff the ole Nick hain't let loose in these
pairits, I'm a coon,' said her old uncle,
in the bosom of his family.
In four weeks some one met Beck out
| riding with the "cunnel." The news
| went like wildfire. Aunt Dilsey went
over to see Beck. She found her in her
white dress, lying in a hammock, read
ing a novel.
"Whatever are you doin', Beck?" she
| said.
"What please, and plum enjoying it, ~
said Becky.
Eyes, able to be lazy" sighed Aunt
Dilsey, ''but I wouldn't 60 ridin' jest
yit."
Beck's handsome eyes smiled. II
wud," she said, do jist exactly what I
pleased. I'm rich, an I'm free, an I'm
goin' to enjoy life, an yer can save yer
selves a power by shettin' up"
''Then," said Aunt Dilsey, "she curled
up like young cat, an I cudn't get
another word out'n her."
The next Sunday night there were ten
saddle horses and buggies tied to the
posts and tho fence. Beck never en-
;oyed anything so much in her life. She
treated everyone alike, gave them cake
and lemonade wine, laughed, joked and
turned them all out at ten o'clock, in
viting them to call again. But the next
Sunday night there was no Becky at
home, and she electrified the small audi
ence at the Methodist church at the
crossroads by appearing among them
with a STRIPPING cousin of II.
During these days Marion Moore never
appeared at the Bailey house, nor
formed one of the young men, aye, even
the middle-aged and old men, who never
failed to crowd around the young widow
whenever she rode into the country
town on Sunday afternoon. Being the
only man she missed, Beck grew FESTIVE
and one October day, when Marion was
clearing up new bit of ground for the
spring tobacco, she came riding down
the lane toward him, her black skirts
flying, her cheeks blazing and her
tendril-like curls all falling down from
under her black cap. He saw her COM
ing away oil, and he knew the errand
on which she came, and he had to steel
his heart against her to hold his vantage
ground. Handsome, stalwart, brawny,
he rested on his ak calmly, though the
blood in his veins ran as riotous course
as is brooks after storm. How Beck
laughed as she drew up!
II haven't been up here for years. -
she said. "Come over to the cliff, Marion.
Ill walk Black Nell"
II must work, Beck" he said. "Life
isn't play all around, We know"
(Which means ye WON'T" she smiled.
"But I know yer want to go, plum bad!
Ye're playin' losin' game, Marion, fur
I know by yer eye that ye're jest the
same as ye werc," and she laughed, tan
talizingly. Don't think We can fool me,
Marion.
He threw his AK down with angry
vehemence and stood locking at her.
II don't know whether ye're witch
or what" he said, hoarsely. II am jest
the same, Beck, an yer want to look
out. can't stand foolin'."
II won't marry ag'in. I'm goin' to en-
joy life," she Knocked. "What's the use
of my marryin'? I've got money and
land and years of good times ahead q
me. What'd git in exchange?"
Marion never answered, except by his
persistent gaze.
''Good-by," she said, presently; "ye're
in too bad a humor. Ye're takin' life
too serious, Marion. There's more'n
gray skies above my head. Give me the
blue ones" Then she galloped away to
the bluffs and Marion's temple of ma
ture, high in the woods above the
river. He half fancied she would come
back his way; but no. The afternoon
wore away, and no 1.-the, slim figure on
a black mare appeared on his horizon.
So she knew, and, since she knew,
she Knocked him. Well, he had always
loved the brier rose. How could he tame
this untamable tigress, this guesser of
mems secrets and mocker of mems
loves? The intuitions of Marion Moore
were better than his knowledge or his
reason. He guessed that only a real,
lasting affection would ever make her
more beautiful, more tender, more true
than any other woman-but now, how,
indeed, was this to come 10 her?
The mad reports vent flying hither
and thither. sBecxy was here, there,
everywhere. It was Col. Will and Tom
Pence and Arthur S,nedley and Henry
Carroll. The widows bonnet was now
never worn, and bows Of lavender and
elaborate black and white toilets were
sent for to Cincinnati, and cooking and
feasting and fun went on in the Bailey
house. Thanksgiving came, and Beck
was the queen Of the Pence family gath
ering that day. 4 = >a'.. =,
One morning Marion Moore WAS near
his favorite wood haunt and stopped to
look over the fair valley and the if
finite hill spread out before him like