The Worthington advance., 1900-07-06
HER, SISTERS. SECRET
By Owen Oliver.
HAD vowed, never to enter the
Dormers' house again; but when
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

HAD vowed, never to enter the
Dormers' house again; but when
they sent word that Maisie was dying
I went there as fast as a hanson
would carry me. We had always been
such friends-the child and I.
She was propped up in bed with pill
lows, and her pretty face was pale and
drawn, but she smiled when she saw
me. took her wasted hand in mine
and kissed her cheek.
II was sure you would come," she
said, in faint, pleased voice.
"Of course" 1 answered. "Of
course, my dear child" She was only
IA. "There is no quarrel between you
and me-" We had remained good
friends when the rest of the family
cut me dead.
1--WE never have quarreled," she said,
holding my hand slightly. "There is
not much time to quarrel now. You
won't, will you, Fred?" I shook my
head. A lump in my throat kept me
from speaking. promise me before
I tell you-something."
my poor little Maisie!" I cried,
brokenly, II promise" ohe had been
a pet of mine from the days when she
was toddling baby and big, awk-
ward boy.
1T is very secret" she stated, in a
slow, far-off voice. my dear-it is
only for Fred" Her mother shook up
the pillows and left us alone, but
Maisie seemed unable to make up her
mind to speak.
''You know would do anything for
you, little GIRL" I said. soothingly.
Her eyes frightened, and she nodded,
but the smile died gradually away.
'Turn me over a little," she en-
treated, "and pull the corner of the
pillow over my face. 1 can't tell you
if you look at me-" So I turned her
very gently and waited, but she still
said nothing.
"Well, May?" I asked.
"You used to be fond of me?''
II am fond of you. 1 shall never
have anyone to replace you, dear"
'Suppose I had done something
dreadful? Something that hurt you?''
II should know that you could not
help it,"
'something mean?" Her voice al
most broke.
"You couldn't"
"Ah! but suppose had?'
'Then," I said, firmly, II should
know it was just slip, like we all
make-like I make sometimes. I
should not blame you, little one."
stroked her long, silky hair and
thought how should miss her. I had
never fully realized before how very
fond I was of my fanciful little friend.
"Will you promise to forgive me,
dear Fred?" she added, pleadingly.
IF there is anything to forgive"
''There is.''
"Then, whatever it is, forgive you.
So you need not tell me now.'
II must" she said, resolutely. "It is
about you and Lucy-when you quar-
reled." She stopped abruptly.
"Yes?" Lucy was her elder sister.
We had been engaged.
'You wrote her an explanation-a
satisfactory explanation"
apparently she did not think so.
She never answered the letter that I
gave you to deliver"
"She never had it," said Maisie, with
a sob
"Maisie!"
IL kept it," She buried her face
in the pillow. was too astonished
for words, but kept stroking her
hair. II read it first. Then burnt
it,"
"But-why?"
because I was a coward" she
sobbed; because I-oh, Fred, forgive
me! Don't despise me more than you
can help" A light flashed into my
mind. l bent over her and kissed her
cheek.
my little Maisie," I said, tenderly.
my poor, loving little girl! You
cared so much as THAT for me!''I 90.
II thought, perhaps, if you hidn't
marry Lucy, and we were good friends,
and 1 grew up-oh, Fred, shan't
grow up now!" put my arms round
her and held her close to me. ~t''
If you get we'll, May" I said, "and
grow up I shall like you better than
anybody" She laughed family Il
believe K always did" I wiped her
ayes.