The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1898-10-14

LOOKING DOthereQ or reSenttul when he
kissed me; and when we had had O
tiff was always ready TO be friends
again. In. those days, when we had
had tiff and had grown tired OF
sparring, George always used to sayi
"Let us go down the river to the is
land" And always went. "The Is
land" always meant making up our
quarrels again and being more devoted
to one another than usual; and George
admitted that never bore malice In
my heart
So the months went on, and George
had to go away; and grew much fond
er of him then, and l don't think
would have cared to change him foI
any other man knew-as a fiancee;
and used to write such lovely letters
to him. ! used to think out sentences
in the night-little remarks | knew
he'd like to get from me. really was
very attentive to him. I've nothing to
reproach myself with on that score
And SO things went on.
And then, after awhile, when George
had been gone some time, his letters
changed. and he seemed rather
troubled about something. I didn't
take much notice of it-I just thought
that perhaps the climate didn't suit
Linn; and once took the trouble to
copy out and send to him q recipe
which l had heard was good for one
II one felt irritable.
But nothing seemed to cheer George,
and at length, when was really be-
ginning to grow troubled about his
temper, l had a letter from him to
say he thought we had better say
"Good-by;" he thought it was his duty
to me to say so; he felt that we 1--WE,
If you pleaseD had made o mistake;
he could never hope to be worthy of
me (his modesty was somewhat new).
etc.-a whole heap of it.
wrote back and said. ~Oh, very
we'll; expect you know best" But
was really awfully angry; and what
made me angrier than anything else
was the thought that neither lie nor
anyone else really knew how hard /
had found it to play the sweetheart
part of the arrangement to George,
and that hadn't wanted to be en-
gagged at all OF course, they all
thought that was secretly wearing
the willow; and the livelier I became
as the days passed by, the more COM
passionately my relations looked at
me. "She's overacting, poor dear"
they were thinking. I'm fairly placid.
as rule, but my wrath did simmer
up at times, and did think few
strong thoughts of George.
AS said just now, my wrath blazed
out strong as ever when Jane opened
the door this afternoon and an
nounced Cousin George, his very self,
and smiled straight into his face, and
talked away without a moments
awkwardness, and said how glad was
to see him( which was true). He
seemed rather uneasy, and not in very
good spiritsi perhaps he was tiny
bit ashamed of himself in spite Of my
friendly manner. But made him sit
down. and talked on blandly, and
didn't shirk q thing. I told him about
every person and every place we had
seen and known together, and l posi-
lively dallied over the subject of his
long absence and the summer before
his departure. I did 1t chiefly to prove
to him that memories were nothing to
me-that was mere justice to myself;
but did see him grip his hands now
and then, and his lips grew white, just
as they used to do when he kept on
proposing.
He didn't talk very much, on the
whole; he answered my questions with
good many monosyllables, but now
and then he would dash into conversa-
tion with a strange sounding voice.
And played off my dimple recklessly,
and felt so glad that my frock was ex-
tremely becoming.
At length there came pause in our
conversation, and then feigned an
other mood, and 1 made up my mind
that I would not break the silence.
Cousin George sat and breathed hard
for a minute or two, and then, sup
pose, he decided on breaking down
the artificiality of our interview, for
he got up from his chair and strobe
about. l looked out Of window
and pretended to be pensive. At last
he stopped beside me and said: "Flo,"
! looked up at him and laughed.
cousin George" said, with mock
solemnity.
Don't laugh" he said, drawing back
his lip.
~ must" said. "when you look so
serious"
II am Serious" he declared "Flo.
won't-you-forgive? ?''
"Forgive ?" ! repeated, wrinkling my
brow and looking puzzled. "Forgivep
have no enemies; people are so good
to me. I rarely have anything to for
give"
Forgive me-" he pleaded.
"You!" I cried. "Surely I've moth
ing to forgive you. Why, you have
never done me anything but kind
ness"
He turned hastily away, and NUT
tered something which sounded
wicked. Then he turned to me again.
Flo" he pleaded. will you row down
with me to the island?"
l really was taken aback then, for I
gathered how much In earnest he was,
and / felt touched. But I recollected
his last letter TO me, and put on q
silly smile. "Oh," said, lightly, "I'm
so sorry, but I'm engaged this after
noon." Then sighed and added,
"I've SO many engagements"
WTO-mOrrow than-pavf 6oU-navA