The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-06-19
ing now. and as midsummer approached
Mrs Armstrong felt crisis was at hand.
SEE HOW THEY RIrN


Mrs. Armstrong felt crisis was at hand.
III.
SEE HOW THEY RUN.
One midsummer night the crisis occurred
For the last ten days AlIenbys notes had
become more impertinent LuttrelFs wild
wooing more difficult to suppress. On the
evening of midsummer day, as Mrs Arm
strong, assisted by Jack Luttren, was
gathering roses outside the dining room
window, he suddenly flung his arms round
her and kissed her.
1t was the work of g second, and the
following instant she was standing, pale
and trembling. before him. her outraged
dignity so manifest that before she spoke
her pardon
Dear Mrs. Armstrong, forgive me.
could not help it. If you only knew
Get up this moment, and il you really
wish to be forgiven meet me this evening
at 1890 by the third willow on this side
of the house. Wait shind il till L whistle.
fense."
heaven by Der words, but without waiting
for his thanks Mrs. Armstrong left him.
cautioning him as lie weat on no account
70 come to her till she blew whistle she
always co rried for her dogs.
On going to her workable she found an
other note from Allenby more daring than
up and put 1t carefully away with its prede-
cessors, and then sat down to answer it.
BE at the pond behind the house at 10
this evening, and when 1 whistle come to
the Pollard willow on the right-hand side
and you will find me behind it,"
She twisted the slip of paper up, directed
it and put it on Allenbys plate so that
when he came to dinner, which was at
o'clock. he would be sure to find it; and
asked Jack Luttrel If he would mind doing
a commission for her that evening, which
she know would take him at least two
You win be back long before half past
49, she said significantly; and Luttrell JOY
fully agreed to go directly dinner was over.
John Armstrong was more silent than
ever that evening, and George Taunton
pity for his poor young wife worked d deeper [olr
walked around the old-fashioned garden,
past the rue and the rosemary: the ber-
and the budding hollyhocks, till he reached
a small summer house where he stretched
himself full length on the seat and finished
the cigar he was smoking, thinking of the
great mistake Florence White had made in
marrying John Armstrong. Then he must
have fallen asleep, for the next thing. he
was conscious of was Florence's voice just
outside of the summer house.
t'Oh! Jack, darling, how much longer
must we bear it? We are never alone Tor
a. quarter of an hour all day long. You
know. dearest. ! would do anything in the
world to please you, but really don't know
how TO put up with this nuisance any
George Taunton inwardly cursed his bad
luck for putting him in this invidious posi-
ton; he was an unwilling listener to what
was evidently a stolen meeting between
Mrs. Armstrong and Jack Luttrell 10
apprise them of his presence would place
them all three in very awkward position
so he quickly decided to remain quiet keep
their counsel, and feign sleep If discovered;
eve can never be alone, unless we steal
a. march on them like this. Jack, it is SO
dull, so deadly dull when you are not with
me. I wish we could go tonight to desert
island and live there for the rest Of our
lives, and never be worried by other people
again" continued Mrs. Armstrong.
Poor old Armstrong! 1 am really rather
sorry for him. i'm did not know matters were
The next moment, to his amazement, he
heard John Armstrong unmistakable East
INV darling child. how can. / get rid of
them? Heaven knows | hate having them
as much as you do; as you say, we nave
not moment to ourselves; the privacy of
our home life is entirely spoilt, and as far
as the money is concerned, If they palq
three times as much as they now do,
company. The difficulty is how are we to
get rid of them?'' said Mr. Armstrong.
II have thought of that and l think l
can st rid of two of them this very night.
if you will only come with me- answered
They moved on as she said this, ard
peeping through the trelliswork the aston
ished and dumfounded George Taunton saw
the tall figure of John Armstrong, with his
young wife clinging like the IVY ivy to ,,t the
down the gravel path between the tall box
fences to the house. They went indoors for
a few minutes and when they, came out
again John Armstrong carried riding
whip.
MIDSUMMER NIGHT.
Midsummer night has long been sacred
to the fairies; long before Titania and Obe-
ron held their court in that enchanted wood
near Athens, did their predecessors keep
their revels, "over hill, over dale, thorough
BUSH thorough briar,'' on midsummer night.
1t need hardly be said that Ralph Allen
bys eyes had no power to discern fairies,
and certainly they never entered into his
thoughts, as he made his way to the tryst-
ing spot that evening shortly before the
appointed hour. He did not wish TO run
any risk of being seen, so he made Tor
spot between the pond and the willow be.
hind which Mrs. Armstrong was to Ride;
here the tall grasses and few stunted
alder and willow made cover, under which
he stretched his small body to await the
signal. Nor had he long to wait before he
heard footsteps approaching. and with the
footsteps, voices. Florences voice., Flor
ence's footsteps, but alas, for Mr. Allenby,
another's voice, another's footstep, also,
and that other no less a person than big
handsome, burly John Armstrong and his
unmistakable twang.
They came nearer and nearer, until they
were within a dozen steps of the lover
covering in the high summer grasses; on
the other side of him was the hOrsepond in
front of the house, with a gravel walk and
a small stretch of greensward between it
and him, and close behind him very steep
grassy slope the bank of the old moat,
and a meadow at the foot of it, If John
Armstrong should prove aggressive escape
would be difficult, for the bank was almost
perpendicular and some fifteen feet deep,
while to attempt the other routes would be
to rush either into the horsepond or the
farmers arms. Allenby knew soon as he
heard John Armstrong; voice, that mis-
chief was in the wind; he knew he had
been duped by the fair Florence, but to
what extent he was not yet aware.
why didn't you tell me this before?'
asked Mr.. Armstrong, and as he spoke he
cut savagely at the tall grasses with his
riding whip, the swish of which made any
thing but a pleasant accompaniment to his
sing song accent.
Because this is the first note have ever
answered. l didn't take any notice of the
others.
I'll take notice of them when L catch
the young scoundrel,' said Armstrong, and
swish went the whip again as it beheaded
some innocent grasses. Allenby lay prone,
cursing his luck and hisAfolly. and vowing,
if he quilted the scene with unbroken bones,
never would he willingly set eyes on the
farmer or his fair, but cruel wife again.
Perhaps if l whistle he will come to me,
and then you can settle accounts with him,
said Mrs. Armstrong.