The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1899-01-29


ing a home and an income; your offer of
marriage is an insult to me, and hate and
despise YOU"
Dicks face had grown white enough by
this time, and very stern, 100; Ellen need
never again doubt his possession of a
temper.
Listen to me, Elem he commanded
when l have said my say I won't trouble
you again; you need fear no further insults
from me, at any rate. I will tell you the
truth about my own actions. When found
myself alone in the world, without money or
occupation sufficient to keep from starva-
ton, Aunt Jane asked me to come to her,
and offered me work. l have done that
work to her satisfaction, and have taken
the salary You, 1 believe, came on much
the same terms to be Aunt James help and
companion. I will tell you this once that
loved you the first day we met and have
loved you ever since. 1 guessed that Aunt
James wishes agreed with smine as to my
winning you for my wife, and 1 hoped that
you might love me in return. Now that
you have told me so plainly that L was
wrong that, indeed. my love is an insult.
l will say no more. Perhaps in time you
shall not be troubled by my presence"
81 saying he walked to the door, and with
out another look at her, went out and closed
it after him.
For some moments Ellen stood as he had
left her. feeling in a sudden, half-dazed man
if the world were tumbling about her,
child's world of toy bricks topples when
jogged at it's foundations. Then, above ali,
her wrath and scorn, came an amazement
that Richard should have proved himself
to possess such a stern, disagreeable temper
beneath his customary mildness. Filled
with this sudden wonder she went slowly
to her room and sat and gazed out of the
window absently; but she felt no relief
such as she had promised herself.
For three days after that Ellen saw
nothing of Dick. He says he is busy"
Aunt Jane remarked each morning. making
no further comment on his absence from
the breakfast table.
BY this time Ellen found that her anger
dying in a most unreasonable and an
noying manner, considering how sedulously
she strove to foster it; considering also that
Dicks offense in her eyes was, of course,
unchanged. But, instead of anger, she be-
gan to have a sinking at her heart each
morning when she came down and found
Aunt Jane alone at the breakfast table, and
an ache of disappointment each night as
she climbed the stairs again on her way to
bed.
On the fourth morning, as they sat at
table, Aunt Jane announced casually that
Richard was gone.
For some moments Ellen could not speak;
the tidings seemed to rob her tongue of its
power; a horrible sinking pain clutched at
her heart, and her face looked as if drained
of color and hope But, bitter as a sacrifice
of her pride would be- she quickly felt that
she could not endure to know no more than
that bare statement
'Where?" she asked, rather family, but
with an attempt at nonchalance.
ITO look for work, he tells me-" said Miss
Jane, grimly. He's tired of an old wom-
ans service I suppose. Why, my dear
she exclaimed, breaking off suddenly in her
comments on Dicks behavior, for Ellen had
bowed her head and was sobbing bitterly.
It's all my fault" she cried. you don't
konw all. 1 tainted and angered him, and
drove him away"
flush, dearie; don't take on like that.
There's not much harm DONE I'll be bound"
Aunt James voice was kindly, but Ellens
dismay was fresh upon her, and she was
beyond comfort yet
You don't know how I treated him. she
sobbed, land 1 ought to take the conse-
quences. I'm not going to have him think
that I've driven him from his home and his
WOIk. WueT0 mas ne SOue Aunt Jane!
He spoke of going to Carford. He won't
be long in getting something to do, for he's
a good workman, in spite of his being so set
on books, and insects. and such like. Take
my advice child, and cheer up"
II can't let him go like that, Aunt Jane.
Don't be angry with me, but must make
him come back"
do as you like, my dear; only don't wash
your pretty eyes away with tears. A young
mans anger isn't the worst thing in the
world, and it won't last all his life if he's
the sort think he isl
But Ellen's heart was sore and overfull
of misery. She felt that she must do some
| thing-must take some action. 1t was i'm
possible for her silently to accept Dicks an
cry sacrifice; it goaded her. She dried her
eyes, and resting her aching head on her
hand, tried to think how she might bear all
| the punishment for her hasty words and
| force Dick to come back.
Il will go after him." she decided at last.
IT can't tell him that-perhaps-I was I'M
just; but L will tell him that 1 am going
away from here, and that he must come
back
Miss Jane made no objection when her
niece told her of her decision.
II won't hinder you, Ellen, she said, "for
| anyone can see you are fretting over the
matter; and 1 won't deny that 1 should be
| glad to have the young firebrand back
| again. I'm a bit old now for looking after
the farm, and it's harder to take up the
work again after having had it done for
me. But, all the same, think you're going
| too quick upon his anger; he won't have
cooled down yet awhile; and think you're
silly to worry your poor little heart out over
!
But Ellen felt that she should know no
| peace till Dick was back at Dowden Farm,
so she accepted Miss James permission and
| put aside her advice.
/ At Carford, each autumn, hiring fair Is
| held in the market place, when men and
women, youths and maids assemble for the
purpose of taking new service with one or
| other out of the crowd of masters and mis-
! tresses who have driven from the neighbour
ing towns and villages to make their choice;
| and the sleepy town wakes up and takes
/ a holiday. giving itself over 10 the pleasure
! of watching the human bargains driven. and
/ TO the enjoyment of the gayeties which such
an occasion brings into its midst. Here,
| in the market square, are peep shows, shoot
| ing galleries, merry-go-rounds and wax
! md hOx-c