The true Democrat. [volume] (Bayou Sara [La.]) 1892-1928, 1898-04-23

"Willy, are you trihing with me?"
II couldn't afford to, DEAR"
II see you won't be serious, and
yet 1 have something very serious to
say to you. Something that Maud
English told me last night"
81 heard her." I said.
Nora started.
ooh, you couldn't hear what SIZE
said"
"Not quite; but you must remem-
Der thai the walls of these country
cottages are mostly made Of paper.
You and she were talking till nearly
2 o'clock this morning. I suppose she
was treating you TO discourse on
Davidson
"Perhaps; but Maud told me also
something about you
lawfully good of her to mention i'll"
I remarked with affected cheerfulness,
but felt desperately uncomfortable.
It was too bad of Maud, especially
when she had just got engaged tc
Davidson. :.
"What do you think it WASP" asked
Nora.
II haven't notion" I replied.
ooh, guess" but there was nc
smile on Nora's face.
"Well, may be she was telling you
how fortunate you were in having such
an adorable individual as I belonging
to you"
[ laughed feebly.
"Not altogether" said Nora. "She
told me"-and very distinctly the
words came-"that two summers ago,
in this very place, you used to put
your arm round her waist, and once
you kissed her! That's all I've got tt
say, Mr.. Harris"
I had not heard my surname fol-
quite a long time, but I liked it non'
the better for that.
Nora moved from me, and my arm
slipped from her waist. TWAS strange
it had remained there through ou1
conversation. became intensely in
terested in a fat spider crawling up my
sleeve, and great bee sat on spray o.
heather hard by, wooing the sweetness
out of the bloom. A lamb on the hills
behind bleated pitifully, and the noise
of water came monotonously from the
rocky cleft below us, The sun count
ed for but little now. There was {
I long, long silence between us, but
felt that Nora was looking at me. AND
, at last she spoke.
"Willy."
"Yes." I was little surprised.
"Why don't you look at me and say
: it isn't true?"
I looked at her but a breath. "It'
true enough" said, briefly.
Silence again. Then: you're no
> frightened of me, are you?' sht
asked, softly, and felt her hane
touch my hair.
"oh, Willy, you can't imagine how
glad I ami"
"What?" I cried, forgetting N,
, manners.
"Glad I found you out. Would
you mind putting your arm bach
l where it was not long ago."
! put my arm there, but I was sore
ly puzzled.
"You see, Willy" she began with 6
quaint look of trouble in her eyes,. 81
had confession to make to you, ant
it makes it easier now"
! I drew her closer. Thank Coz
women are not angels.
''Don't bother to tell it, DEAR"
whispered.
, ooh, but I must tell you. Whe1
Maudie told me about you and her
self, I had to tell her about Mr.. Da
wilson and myself. For we had beer
just rs bad. And, Willy, sometime
T felt so dreadful at not having toll.
you before. Often I tried to spea]
and couldn't. And then was so gla'
l when Maudie mentioned you-sh
didn't like my story about Mr.. Da
vidson-for I felt that I could at las
4 tell you"
"Were you quite sure I would for
give you, dear?" I asked, lookin!
down into her eyes.
:; "sinners must forgive Sinners" sh
whispered, very gravely. "Ah, Willy
you don't care any the less, do you
And You won't think any more of wha
: I said?"
II did not think I cared so much
my Nora, till I felt that had los
you just now. And the past is moth
, ing, when I know that you are min
J, to-day"
| "And forever!" she sighed.
> Forever and ever!" l added, kiss
ing her.-St. Paul's.
| W~hsterSa Rarroin nov