The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1898-09-14


have been inclined to go to sleep If l
had not felt so vexed at fhe fellow for
falling in love with Amy, and the
queer way he took to tell me of it. The
funny part was that he was perfectly
in earnest. and quite believed that by
contemplating Amy his eyes had been
opened to number of important spir-
itual truths. have heard lay lovers
talk in something the same way, but
for my part never found that kissing
Amy opened my eyes to any truth ex-
cept that she was very nice to kiss.
l thought be would never come to
the point, but at last he did.
"And love the girl, he said, ''and /
am afraid to speak TO her. Partly 1t is
herself am afraid of, because she is so
simple and yet so wise. But then again
/ know nothing about the convention
alities and the customs; might fright
en- her; there are right ways and wrong
ways of speaking, and / know moth
ing.n And he went on to appeal to
my worldly wisdom, of which he al
ways had great opinion. Once Dob
son tried to convert me and failed; he
had borne me no grudge for it (which
is rare), but had made division in his
own mind, believe, by which l was
to be wise in the things of this world,
and to be left 10 the "uncovenanted
merciesn of Providence in the next.
And now it was the wisdom Of the
world he wanted. So gave il to him,
thus, with grave face:
"Dobson," said /, "lhis is delicate
matter. do not believe Miss Fenwick
has any conception Of the feelings you
entertain for her. Nor do | imagine
that she has ever asked herself whether
she entertains any such feelings for
you. IL is not the way of women TO do
so until man has spoken much more
plainly than you have done. An alb
rupt declaration would startle her, and
might be fatal to your chances. What
you must do is to proceed slowly and
gradually, letting your feelings be seen
by degrees, so as to accustOm her to
look on you rather as lover than as a
teacher" And further instructed him
in the same sense; TO all of which he
listened with much docility, and at the
end Of it shook my hand and said 1
was true friend; and went TO bed to
think il over.
The advice had given him was not
only excellent IN itself, but it had the
further merit of leaving clear field for
me. 1t was quite true that my Amy
was by no means prepared to hear any
declaration of love from him, but she
was quite prepared to hear one from
me, and was sure she must have asked
herself the question whether she cared
for me, though was by no means sure
whether she had yet answered it. L
should have preferred to wait while
and let the fruit ripen, but knew that
Dobson's notion of gradually proceed
ing was not one that would allow me
much time. If spoke first and was
rejected, then the field would be clear
for him; but if he spoke first, whet her
he was accepted or rejected, knew
Amy would be so much disturbed aud
agitated that / should have no chance
for the rest of my visit, and another
opportunity might never come. And /
was by no means sure that he would be
rejected, for although she certainly did
not love him, women have been known
to marry out Of admiration and pity
before now, and particularly parsons.
Then both parties are unhappy. So
felt | should be acting in the best inter-
-ests of all three of US in speaking as
soon as possible.
And so did. i met her in the gar
den next morning, aud there, on a rus
tic seat under a laburnum, told her Of
my love. There are some scenes too
sacred for the public gaze, and | shall
not attempt to paint the pretty, shame
faced air with which Amy responded
to my declaration. But when We had
once more begun 10 talk more or less
like reasonable beings, the first thought
that crossed my mind was Dobson.
He really was sort of old man of the
sea; l was never allowed to be free Of
him. But, having conquered, could
afford to be magnanimous, and | re-
solved to make the thing as little
unpleasant both for him and her as
cDuld be.
Dearest" l said, ~ have piece of
news for you that will surprise you"
She looked up at me in such a sweet,
confiding way that l had to kiss her
before going on. ado you know, l am
not the only man who has eyes to see.
What would you think, now, of old
Dobson 81
'Yes, yes, Dobson, and no other"
I said. Funny, isn't it, bat true. He
is not so far away up in the sky as you
think. He will come down to say
something very particular to little
mortal maiden, and before many days
are up"
"Oh, no, l do hope not" she ex-
claimed. "Are you sure ?''
"Quite certain; have watched him
with you, and / know old Dobson
through and through. Now, when he
does speak, love-as he certainly will,
and you must prepare yourself for it
don't tell him about me. 1t would pain
him. You will know how to refuse
him without hurting him more than
you must. My little girl is very wise"
am afraid she was more frightened
than wise for the next few days, and
Pm sure she tried to prevent Dobson
speaking at all. But he never noticed
her little deterrents. His method of
carrying out M instructions was to
hang off as well as he could for two
days, and then, in the effort 10 show a
little of his feelings, to blurt out dec
laration. 1t must have been painful to
Amy. She was quite done up after it,
rather hysterical, and went to bed with
a headache. Dobson went to London
the same afternoon without word to
any one, and told Fenwick he had re-
ceived telegram about an outbreak of
the smallpox in his parish. / knew he
would write to Fenwick, but only in