The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1901-10-03

ALL THE WEALTH.
OF TIE WORLD. 81 '''f READ

| I guess. 1t strikes me that father
said something about 1t first. The
fact is, we didn't know you were here
till-just the other day"
But how did you find ont at last
that was here? And what difference
should it maker
"Oh, really, now, you mustn't be
cross with us. We don't know every
thing. 1 guess we are pretty dumb on
some things. But we mean all right.
And If you'll come over next Thursday
night--I'll call for you. VIII you
Gomez"
But, Mr.. Chiffon, l can't under
stand why l have been invited. 1t is
not possible that you people could
have heard of me. 1 am not a celeb
rlty of any sort-I don't slng-I don't
do anything, and / am still at a loss
as to why | was invited"
81 think, Miss Weatherly, that you're
invited because we want you; any
way, hope you'll be ready when 1
call for you next Thursday evening"
She told him that she would, but
she regretted it, and the next day, and
in fact up to the very time when she
sat expecting him, she was deter
mined to write to him, begging leave
to withdraw her promise. But all the
same, when the evening came, she sat
in the parlor waiting. Mrs. Atcherson
came in.
And so you can't for the life of you
tell why you were invited. OF course,
don't want to say anything, but it
may bel say 1t may possibly be-that
they have heard who the Atchersons
are. And some one must have told
them what l thought. Did he speak Of
me at all?"
II think not, madam"
"Oh, If he did, don't hesitate to tell
me. My standing and my opinions
are well known here. Well / don't
see how they could have heard of you
since you've been in my house There's
his buggy"
At the very last moment, with her
foot on the buggy-step, she had almost
turned back with an excuse, but a
gentle pressure strongly urged her on.
AT the very threshold OF the mansion,
with the sweets of flowers and the
thrills of music in the air, she faltered.
turned about to beg of her escort to
take her home, but she didn't, and she
found fault with herself. Was the
treacherous glamour of wealth steal
ing her dignity? Had she become q
"climberY' Beneath the soft lights
she felt herself swaying. as If her
nerves were a part of the music. Low
toned words fell upon her ear; she
stood amid blooming shrubbery, and
there was laughter everywhere, and
in her heart was new sensation and
a strange joy
But n bitterness came with the
dawn. when she sat in her room look.
ing at a fading star, the glory of a
night. Had fate given her a glimpse
of that enchanted life to mock and de-
ride her? Why had she yielded?
What had robbed her of the strength
to say no?
a few evenings later she was still
mnsing. beneath the honeysuckle,
when young Chiffon came round the
corner of the house. With freedom
almost impudent he sat down, talking
pleasantly; she felt that it was her
duty to resent something, she didn't
know what, but she continued to look
for something, leading him on as if
into trap. But the trap was not
sprung, and when he took his leave she
walked as far as the gate with him,
determined to resent something; but
still she didn't, and he looked back
from the top of the hill and saw her
white and graceful in the starlight
One day she went riding with him.
She remarked to the farmers wife
that she expected quarrel; but it d L
not come. Once she made a pretense
of resentment; but he laughed at her,
and how full Of honest, wholesome
music was his laugh.
You must think l am a peculiar
creature" she said.
Are you?" he innocently asked; and
this almost offended her. He had not
observed that she was peculiar. And
she was determined to be more re-
served, more serious; but soon she for
got herself and was foolish and full
of fun. When she returned the farm
er's wife asked about the quarrel.
"Oh, it will come" she said. "He
keeps on presuming, and the first
thing he knows-I won't stand 1t,
that's allw
The weeks drifted away, like a per-
fume. One evening young Chiffon and
Miss Weatherly were walking beside
the sea. 1T is murmuring its poetry"
she said.
Il don't know much about poetry"
lie replied. I'm so busy, you know.
I've read a good deal OF what they
call poetry, but | feel that you are the
only real poetry l have ever known.
You know, called on you first to
please my father, and after that /
called to please myself. The fact is,
| don't see how / could very well get
along without you. I'm nothing but
a sort of big boy, you know, but |
guess that n big boy loves harder than
anything in the word when he does
love; and that's the trouble with me
right now. love you, and | want
to hear you say you love me, and |
want you to marry me as soon as you
will. | may be making break every
step make, but l am going to kiss
| YOU"