The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1901-07-19
CHAPTER XVII.

Lincoln and William Bender still re-
mained, the one as practicing lawyer |
and junior partner Of the firm, and the
other as a student still, for he had not
vet dared 10 offer himself for examina-
tion. Study was something which Henry |
particularly disliked; and as his mother
had trained him with the idea that labor
for him was wholly unnecessary, he had
never bestowed thought on the future,
or made an exertion Of any kind. Now,
however different phase Of affairs was
appearing. Ills fathers fortune was
threatened with ruin; and he sat in the
Office with his heels upon the window SILL
debating the al-important question
whether It were better to marry Ella
Campbell for the money which would
save him from poverty. or TO rouse him
self to action for the sake OF Mary How
ard, whom he really fancied he loved.
Frequently since the party had he met
her, each time becoming more aud more
convinced Of her superiority over the 9TH
er young ladies Of her acquaintance. lie
was undoubtedly greatly assisted in this
decision by the manner with which she
was received by the fashionabes Of Bos-
ton; but. aside from that, as far as he
was capable Of doing so, he liked her,
and was now making up his mind wheth-
er to tell her so or not.
At last breaking the silence, he exclaim-
ede"Hang me, If don't believe she's be-
witched me, or else I'm in love. Bender,
how does a chap feel when he's in lover
every foolish, judging from yourself,
returned William, and Henry replied:
II hope you mean nothing personal, for
I'm hound to avenge my honor, and
'twoud be a deuced scrape for you aud
me to fight about your sister as you call
her, for It's she who has inspired me, or
made fool Of me, one or the other"
you've changed your mind, haven't
your asked William, little sarcastical-
ly.
Hanged If haveg' said Henry. 81
was interested in her years ago, when
she was the ugliest little vixen man
ever looked upon, and that's why teased
her SOL don't believe she's handsome
now, but she's something, and that some
thing has raised the mischief with me.
Come, Bender, you are better acquainted
with her than | am, so tell me honestly
If you think I'd better marry her"
With naughty frown William replied:
"You have my permission sir, to propose
as soon as you please. | rather wish you
would" then taking his hat he left the
office. while Henry continued his solilo-
guy as follows;
II wonder what the old folks would
say to a penniess bride. Wouldn't moth
er and Rose raise a row? I'd soon quiet
the old woman, though, by threatening to
tell that she was once factory girl. But
If dad smashes up I'll have to work, for
| haven't brains enough to earn my living
by wit. | guess on the whole I'll go and
call on Ella; she's handsome, and besides
that has the rhino, too; but how shallow"
and the young man broke the blade of his
knife as he stuck 1t into the hardwood
table by way Of emphasizing his last
words.
Ella CHANGED to be out, and as Henry
was returning he overlook Ida Selden
and Mary Howard, who were taking
their accustomed walk Since her conver-
sation with William weight seemed
lifted from Mary's spirits, and she now
was happier far than she ever remem-
bered Of having been before. Mary
could not find it in her heart to be un-
courteous to Henry, and her manner to-
ward him that morning was so kind and
affable that it completely upset him; and
when he parted with her at Mr.. SeldeH's s
gate his mind was quite made up to
offer her his heart and hand.
81 shall have to work." thought he,
"but for her sake I'll do anything"
An hour later he sat down and wrote
to Mary on paper what he could not
tell her face to face. Had there been
a lingering doubt Of her acceptance, he
would undoubtedly have wasted at least
a dozen sheets of the tiny gilt-edged pa
per, but as it was one would suffice, for
she would not scrutinize his handwriting
she would not count the blots, or mark
the omission of punctuating pauses. An
ardent declaration Of love was written
sealed and directed.
Restless and unQuiet, he sat down tC
await his answer. 1t came at last-his
rejection, yet couehed in language so kind
and conciiatory that he could not fee
angry. Twice-three times-he read II
over, hoping to find some intimation that
possibly she might relent; but no, it was
firm and decided, and while she thanked
she respectfully declined accepting it, as
suring him that his secret should be KEEP
inviOlate.
There's some comfort in that,
thought he, "fOr | wouldn't Ike to have
1t known that | have been refused by
poor unknown girl and then, as the con
viction came over him that she woulC
never be his, he laid his head upon the
table and wept such tears as a spoil
child might weep when refused a toy tot
costly and delicate to be trusted in it!
rude grasp.
Ere long there was a knock at tn,
door and hastily wiping away all traces
of his emotion, Henry admitted his faith
er, who had come to talk of their future
prospects, which were even worse thar
he had feared. But he did not reproael
his wayward son, nor hint that his reck
less extravaganza had hastened the ca
lamity which otherwise might have beei
avoided. Calmly he stated the extent t
which they were involved, adding tina
though an entire failure might be pre-
vented a short time, it would come a
last; and that an honorable payment o
his debts would leave them beggars.
"For myself | do not care" said tn
wretehed man, pressing hard his achin
temples, where the gray hairs had thick
ened within a few short weeks. "Fo
myself | do not care, but for my wif
and children-for Rose, and that sh
must miss her accustomed comforts,
the keenest pang Of all.
All this time Henry had not spoken, bu
thought was busily at work. He coul
not bestir himself; he had no energy 70
that now; but he could marry Ella Camp
bell, whose wealth would keep him |
the position he now occupied, beside
supplying many Of Roses wants.
Cursing the fate which had reduce
him to such an extremity, toward th
dusk of evening Henry started for Mr.
Campbelrs. Lights were burning in tn