The Monmouth inquirer., 1897-02-25

cause to send John away on my account
Let me 60 out 20 service myself y
At first Mother Kathrine objected
Then she sat down aud studied over her
daughters proposition. Perhaps the
child was right. 1t might do her good
to eat the bread of strangers, for little
while at any rate.
1t did not take Liz long to carry out
her plan. The pretty, well behaved girl
found service in small summer resort
in the neighborhood. The male guests
took bit more freedom with the pretty
lassie than she liked, and the cook pro-
posed to her about once aweek. She re-
fused him peremptorily every time, but
at last, tired Of his persistence. she de-
cided to go home on Sunday to consult
with Mother Kathrine about changing
her place. How much inconsistencies bad
part in this resolution Liz would not
own to herself.
Meanwhile John had been unham-
pered. 1t was quiet once more about the
place since Liz was gone, but they were
not any merrier. The two old people
missed the girl every hour in the day,
and john face wore cloud.
II think it's time for the boy to
marry" said Hubert one day to his
wife. "'The richest girl in the village is
casting sleeps eyes at him. If he wants
her, am sure he can get her, and that
would be great good fortune for our
John. -
Ax1 mo fakl,ar2tj
1--WE would have Liz at home again. !"
The richest girl in the village was a
miIler's daughter, and John grew
thoughtful when the subject of his mar
riage with her was broached to him by
his parents. After little contemplation
ne came to the conclusion that the mill
er's daughter was really good looking
lass, who had always shown fondness
for him. In future he would not lose an
opportunity to play the agreeable to her.
When Sunday came-the old folks
had gone off on visit--John donned
his best clothes, and with the silver
mounted pipe in his mouth strolled
through the village toward the mill.
When he came to the milldam, he paus-
ed. Here it was where he had pulled
Liz out of the water. What a dear little
thing she was then! He crossed the
brook and glanced into the garden
where the miller's daughter sauntered
up and down between her flower beds.
1t seemed strange and foolish to him all
at once that he should go in there and
propose to her, and the mill and the
quaint little house and big forest behind
lost all attractiveness for John. He
turned and started for home much faster
than he had come away.
On the bench under the linden tree
sat girl in holiday dress. In her hand
she held rose. She arose and came to-
ward him, holding out her hand.
Good afternoon, John" she said.
''Lizl'' he cried and in moment
held her in his arms and kissed her
soundly. She pushed him aside bit,
and the hot color mounted from her
throat to the roots of her dark hair, but
she said nothing and went into the
house with him.
Within it was shadowy and cool. The
blossoms of the linden tree sent their
fragrance through the open window
and slanting sun rays danced merrily
over Mother Kathrine's shining tin
plates on the wall.
The bullfinches sang in the trees and
the water splashed gayly as it fell from
the spout into the trough. John pushed
his chair close to the girls and laid his
arm around her shoulder.
Liz shook her head.
''Liz, we've been such good friends
always; but we are not brother and sis
ter after all. !"
''No that we are not, answered Liz
softly.
tsAnd that's why 1 think you had
better be my wife. Will you. Lizs''
Liz said not a word. With downcast
eyes she plucked the rose to pieces that
still was in her hand, nodded her head
and smiled, as she had been wont to
smile. The bullfnch finished his song,
the linden tree spent its fragrance, and
the sun shone on as if nothing had hap
pened, while the lovers sat in the dusk
and waited for the home coming of their
parents. st Louis Republic.