The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1899-06-28
TO BE CALLED FOR

But Pen was away down the glen; |
she had no thought just then for her |
grandmother, or supper, or aught else
up at the farm.
AS she walked quickly away to the |
trysting-tree her thoughts were busy
back at that night, just a week ago,
when she had stood beneath those pur-
pie, dropping branches with Herbert
Maclean beside her, and he had whis-
pered intoxicating suggestions into her
little pink ear but, best of all, he VOW
ed that he loved her. He didn't ask
her to be his wife, but he asked her to
meet him again beneath the beech at
shutdown, and-well, he loved her-the
rest was sure to come right.
She could see the path to the village
from where she stood, and soon in the
distance she espied speck coming
nearer. Yes, it was he! But as the
"speck" advanced she saw that it con-
sisted of two figures, not one only, as
she had hoped-two figures, both men.
Herbert was marching along swinging
his cane, cutting off the heads of dan
delions as he came. The other was
shorter and broaderi he carried stick,
but he did not swing it.
At last they came so near that she
could distinguish their faces clearly.
"Hallol The little wench isn't here
yet! Who'd although of her giving
herself such airs?"
rs this the chosen spot? The altar
of Cupid?" asked another voice-a
strangely full, melodous voice.
"This is the place, sure enough" re-
sponded Herbert. What she means
by not being here first, l can't i'm
agine."
mot being here frst?" A smile of
amusement played round the others
lips. rs that the way you do it
ladies first, even at the trystingtree"
Women are always so beastly UNI
punctual" said Herbert. They can't
fix a time and keep it! SO I always
name quarter of an hour earlier than
| mean to appear"
"Always?" There was a note Of
scornful Interrogation in the tone.
you don't suppose" Herbert laugh
ed foolishly-"yOu don't suppose that
this is a solitary instance? Ha, hal"
a suppose you've met her often be-
fore?"
Not this particular her my dear
boy. But girls are cheap. One must
amuse ones self"
"Amuse ones self? Girls cheap"
you mean to say you're such a thor
ough-paced cad as to"
Draw it mild. old chap! The girls
all right We're both playing at the
! same game
you're sure of that?" Maclean
stirred uneasily beneath the others
flashing eyes. You're sure she holds
things as cheap as you do?"
well, Jove! old fellow, really
never asked her. She is pretty little
thing. It's dull in the country without
some fun. And | asked her to keep the
| tryst-"
Never imagining that it would be
kept" interrupted the other scornful-
| ly.
20 yes. She's only girl. expect
ed her to have kept the tryst. To tell
you the truth, expected she'd have
kept it till called for l expected she'd
have been here long ago
We'll, Pm off. You and don't agree
in our ideas about women and honor,
you know. We never did"
and never shall, old chap, while
you're so beastly straight-laced and
old-maidish!" said Herbert, laughing
But the other had turned on his heel
and was striding across the soft green
sward in whirlwind of disgust.
Girls are cheap!" How often the
words angered him! Was this girl
this pretty Penelope-really making
herself so cheap in her so-called low
er's eyes?
The stars were all out as Pen crept
home in the Summer night. Her grand
mother was mapping before the dying
embers. So, slipping off her shoes, the
girl stole softly up the stairs to her
own little chamber.
So that's the way the cat jumps, is
| it?" Herbert Maclean stood facing his
friend some weeks later, CLEAN OF
amusement in his eyes. THE old
grandmother is dead. and Pen is heir
ess to the family stocking!'"
"Heiress to great deal, it seems,
responded Maurice Deane, slowly
THE old woman was much better of
than people thought. Penelope has
| quite fortune"
and Penelope has smiled on you,
eh?" sneered Herbert jealousy. you
didn't go to see the old grandmother
without knowing it was worth your
while. o, you doctors are such pre-
cious humbugs!"
Maurice didn't vouchsafe any reply
to the taunt. He had gone to Dry
| bridge three months ago as lOcum
tenens to the village doctor. His time
had nearly expired, but he had made
many friends and the little flower
faced girl and her aged grandmother
were among the closest. Macean s
name had never been mentioned
| Maurice Deane wished her grand
mother had left the girl a beggar, or
that she hadn't died just then. There
was something he had lately longed to
say and the family stocking" seemed
to form barrier. He wasn't the kind
of man to whom girls were Cheap"
and Pen seemed to him the fairest that
| ever breathed.
| Herbert Maclean walked homeward
in meditative frame of mind
However, it wasn't too late to mend,
so before he slept he penned and post
ed a neat little note. Would Pen meet
him at the old tryst the next night?
The next night he was in good time
at the appointed spot. AS he APP
| preached he saw no one was there!
only white patch--an envelope-was