Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1897-06-24

the rose dropped from her hair
gathered cigar scent in his pocket.
In fact, his heart had passed from
his keeping before he had realized
-shamefully enough-that Marcia
had been right in calling his admi-
ration for her fleeting fancy. But
Marcia, whose love he had sought,
was he right in thinking she was
changed, distract ? The cause
All that he sought in vain, and
at last, in sheer despair, he gave up
TO the wholesome fact that no man
can knew 9 womans mind nnless
4 she tens it--if she can.
The inevitable crisis came. A
merry party had been making the
round of the golf links lately es-
tablished, and had been driven
home by "a summer shower. rom
had proposed to Miss Arnold to
try a picturesque little mountain
path. 1t was rough. lie apollo
gized protusely for suggesting a
way so unfit for her tread. but
cannot say he regretted a choice
which made it necessary for her to
lean on his arm 30 often, SO fire.
quently accept the aid of his hand.
On declevlty her foot slipped. He.
caught her in his arms. And then
the dear face was so tantalizing,
so irresistibly near his own-instead
of releasing her he pressed her
close, close to his heart and dropped
his lips to hers in a long, clinging
caress. q.
A quick flush, half of JOY. half
of modesty, dyed her face, and her
lashes dropped over the love-light
in her eyes. lie would have poured
out his passionate tale OF love. but
sudden thought checked him.
Marcia He had craved her love-
was even now biding the time he
himself had set, and what a right
had he to make love to another
In silence he placed Annette hand
on his arm and they took the home
ward path. AS soon as might be
he went of alone TO commune with
himself. Marcia was right. That
was a passing fancy. She was his
dear friend. But love-ah he had
never even dreamed what it meant
till this hot, delicious flood cursed
through his veins. o! to tell her,
his darling, all he thought and felt.
There was hope for him-hope
spoken by her quivering lips, her
flush, her silence. o, to change it
to glorious certainty.
"But no." he said, al have
wronged Marcia, and now the least
can do is to wait 10 all honor like
q man till the three months end,
and then, if honorsbly | am free
o, my little Annette! Only three
months ~
| But he had to wait longer. When
Annette returned home, Marcia
went for a visit to Kentucky, and
the chill splendor of December was
abroad when she returned. At the
first opportunity Tom asked her to
walk with him to Mountain View.
They were silent on the way-each
thought-busy. Long they stood
with eyes all unseeing turned to-
ward the sunset pageant, ere Tom
mustered courage to speak.
"Marcia," he said. "the three
months after which was to have
my answer are more than passed. p"
"Tom," she faltered, al am sor-
} ~, but" As he lifted her eyes
such sudden radiance of JOY shone
in his that she paused bewildered
then, as the truth flashed on her
she laughed merrily. Her laughter
was irresistible. Tom joined.
"Oh, you dear ridiculous boy p
she cried. when she could get hel
breath. "It is true. You do car,
for some one else" And if Tom,
: heart had been his own he weuld
have laid il at her feet, because sh,
! refrained from saying. 81 told yor
so."
EYES," he said. "you were right
= | love you dearly as my friend, m,
! sister, Marcia. but the other feelin,
. I did not know before"
They were silent for awhile
e "Can you give me Miss Arnold
address ?" be asked abruptly.
q She clapped her hands.
go, Tom, is that it: am s.
Q glad How stupid l was not t,