Catoctin clarion., 1897-10-21
THE TEST OF LOVE.


door that led to Mrs. Marion Dalrym.
ple's apartments. His name was Peter
Walcott, not an aristocratic name, but
one that sounded we'll in the CONNER.
cial circles of large Eastern city.
Mrs. Dalrymple was a widow with a
competency of her own.
The butler ushered the visitor into
prettlly furnished reception room.
The hands on the clock on the mantel
pointed to a quarter to 4.
The maid came in and informed him
that Dalrymple had gone out. "But
will return soon added the white capped
little damsel. seeing the crestfallen mien
of the stranger. because she is expect
ing gentleman.
I am her remarked Peter, wlping
the beads OF perspiratian from bis face.
On the table lay an open book, vol
ume of poems, which had evidently
been perused by the fair widow. Two
days ago he had proposed to her. Soft
bushes mantled her cheeks, before he
had half finished his speech. Embar.
rassment tied her tongue at first, and
finally she begged him to wait few
days for an answer.
Come Friday at 4, she said. l will tell
you thenl
Her hesitation inspired him with
hope and now the moment was near for
which Peter had waited with burning
impatience.
I am sure she will say yes. he said to
himself, my heart tells me so.
Hope is tantallzing goddess. She
fills with assurance one moment, and
sends despair the next, So it was with
Peter. The thought that she might
after all send him away unheard, bro't
tears to his eyes. Before they were
quite dry the door few open and Mrs.
Dalrymple entered.
Quite punctual, | see.
Oh!
She smiled. Don't excuse yourself;
your punctuality is fattering to me.
1t was Peters turn to look pleased.
She invited him to take a seat beside
her on the low, velvet ottoman. You
have asked me to become yonr wife.
she continued, and the thought is very
pleasant to me!
'Ahr Peters face was radiant with
light.
You are % years old, I am 10 years
younger. You are independent; so am
|. We move in the same circle of so.
ciety, and our acquaintance are the
same, That part Of the arrangement is
Just as 1t should De.
BY this time Mr.. Walcott's face
beamed with happiness.
/ have been a widow long enough
and don't want to conclude my days il
single blesseduess. The thought o.
again marrying has obtruded ltselt
quite often lately.
Splendid! sighed Peter.
There is no reason that | should mol
tell you that l like you immensely.
/ am the happiest man alive!
You possess qualities which admire
greatly.
You are an angel!
And l haye noticed your devotion
even before you spoke.
adore you!
To be frank with you. l believe thai
l love you already.
Peter kissed her hands. Dearest
Charlottel
Mrs. Dalrymple drew back little
You must be patient-for nothing is
settled as yet.
You say that you love me, and arc
undecided about marrying me?
Certainly love you, but / am moi
quite so sure of your love!
Despite the solemnity Of the moment
Peter could not repress emile.
cannot see why you doubt me, he
stammered. I have asked you to marry
l tremble even now with fear that yor
may refuse me. and you doubt my Elm
cerity. What in this world has come
over you?
Mrs. Dalrymple shook her head.
know that you are fond Of me, but will
this fondness last forever? What guar
antee have l for your constancy? Give
me proof of it and l marry you!
But
No butts. My resolve Is not to be
shaken. The proof say
What opportunity have to give you
that proof? l cannot set your house
afre and rescue you from the flames
or throw you into the river and pull
you out by endangering my own life.
That would scarcely be a real proof
Good men have pulled women out o.