The enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 188?-1899, 1898-10-19
CHAPTER II.-CoNTINUED.

They were running swiftly down
grade now, following the windings of
the San Mateo, but she made a rush
for her section, grabbed the hand
some silver-mounted bag that lay just
within reach, and with bowed head and
sent form was fastening on, when the
forward trucks struck a sharp curve,
che big car gave sudden lurch that
tuGnSled her into the section directly
In front of the blissful couple, and
sprawled her ignomniously upon the
front seat. The occupant of the other
was snoring commercial traveller, Her
bag dropped in the crash, fell to the
fioor, and burst open, and before she
could recover herself or its contents,
the man in gray had sprung to her aid,
had btpdled an escaping scent-lask
and other, trifles back into the recepta-
Gle, shut it's silver lips with snap,
and. bowipg courteously, endeavorcd
ta restore it. Ayerting her face-cov-
ering it almost with her handkerchief
she strove TO rise and go her way, but
the car still swayed and swung. He put
forth helping hand to lift her to her
feet, but she did not see it. Scrambling
out, still hiding her face, she seized
again her satchel. and, never looking,
never speaking, hurried past him and
disappeared at the forward endjo the
car, leaving Merriam gazing blankly'
fixediy after her. taa"
"Didn't she speak to you at all?"
asked the bride, a moNent later, as
Merriam. with a strange. dazed look
on his face, returned 20 his seat by her
side I'm afraid she's dreadfully hurt,
for her knee struck the seat-arm ever
so bsrdF'F ts%
Ard Still Merriam could not speak.
"Whit is it. Randy?". she whispered,
after a moments anxious study of his
GAGE +'You look so-unlike yourself
With an effort he pulled himself to-
gether. Ibid you see her face, Floy,
dear? What was she like?"
why, she's blonde with-I only got
& glimpse, Randy-she's blonde with
sight hair and blue eyes. She might
'e pretty. Why, dear?" And the dear
ame so timidly.
"L thought had seen her before,
but it's mpossible-absurd. Go on and
tell me what Mrs. Grafton wrote you,
sweetheart. Never mind the capsized
blonde just now" }t
DyTt he himself could "mind" no one
else when, half an hour later, there
came tripping down the aisle from the
ladies' toilet-room slender, graceful,
stylishly-draped figure with such a
ratliautly-pretty girl-woman face-a
fair, sweet blonde, with lovely curling
hair, the brightest of big blue eyes, the
rosiest of tiny mouths, with glimpses
ofsRow-white teeth as she smilingly APP
preached and, with infinite grace, held
out a prettily gloved hand. .s .-. +.
"To think that / should have been
here in time to tender my congratula-
tioslsl Won't you present me to Mrs
Merriam?"
And Randolph Merriam, for once in
Hlis life, was utterly at loss what to
say OF do. lie could hardly speak. He
eOais hardly breathe. "Floy," he final
Iy slid-and his tone was strange and
coh-"this is Mrs. McLane, of New
York, an old--acquaintance," then
turned away as Mrs. McLane etfusively
delightedly bent over that she might
shake hands with the bride.
It was carly evening-too early for
twilight effects, yet the shadows were
FILLING thick on Florence Merriam's
weddlng-day before the setting OF the
glowing sun.