Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1901-03-01

Yes" | replied. Il am 1 can.
l do. The letters were written to me.
and at the time they were written be
licvc you meant what you said.
All your pretty protestations of faith
and consistency and undying love were
as real then. | suppose. to you as. most
unhappily. they seemed to me. They
are all can have now. You belong to
Leonard | will keep the let
ters.'
Then ] saw. that Melinda was getting
frightened She was really crying
now. and knew that immediate
flight was the only thing for me. with
Melinda happy and smiling | could be
stern ana unyieldinG, but ! knew too
well the power of Melinda in tears.
''Goodby," | said in tone OF gentle
melancholy, and rode away. leaving
her weeping piteously b" the roadside.
That night l dincd with Melin las
uncle. the rector. and Melinda and her
Leonard were there.
She had a sweet little voice. and re-
lied for effect on many small tricks Of
expression; and Leonard, who was
big and bald and jolly. would listen to
her by the hour with an expression of
rapt ecstasy. She sang the Tin Gee
gee which seemed to me. under the
circumstances, to be peculiarly appro-
pirate.
Presently, about 3 o'clock. Melinda
rose to go. She had bad headache.
| and would be 50 glad if dear auntie
would excuse her.
Il am awfully tired. Auntie' she
said. Il hope everybody won't think I
am very rude. No. Leonard.
| you really mustn't come with me. 1t
| is only run across the orchard, and |
/ can slip through the side gate in the
kitchen garden and be in the house in
| five minutes.
/ Melinda crossed the room to me- and
| held out her hand. Her face was al
most as white as her dress. and when
/ | took her hand | found that il was
/ burning.
Good night" she said. and | noticed
/ that for once she had forgotten the
\ irresistible smile. II suppose YOU won't
be going YETI
! She spoke in a low voice and l
stared Surely she didn't mean--'
Il am going by the gate in the orch
| ard" she went on rccklcssly. with her
! eyes on the ground and | was speech
! less.
You ought to know it," she said
rather sadly.
| l could hardly believe my ears. II
could not be possible that she meant to
ask me to meet her there. Even
Melinda could not behave so badly so
| very soon And then | re-
membered the letters. OF course sh"
/ tfs,, ,,,f
to regain that telltalc packet.
] let her hand fall had forgotten
! for the moment that was holding IT.
! It was from force of habit. l suppose.
Yes | said. Il ought to know i'll
did once. But ! have forgotten it now.
Perhaps Leonard Crewe knows ii bet
| ter. You might ask him.
Again those violet eyes filled with
| tears.
How can you be 50 unkind." she
whispered. Good night. Then you
won't be going for a long time Yet,
suppose
probably not | said calmly: and
with a last glance of wistful appeal
| Melinda went into the hall. 10 be
carefully cloakcd by the devoted
Leonard | heard his boiSterous voice
| for at least five minutes begging to he
| allowed TO take her home. but as
usual Melinda triumphed, for be came
| back presently with a Clum look on his
| jolly face.
Melinda seems pretty we'll knocked
up" he remarked gloomily.
she hasn't looked at All well tho
last week or two" said tho rector.
| I'm afraid the poor child has rather
tough time Of 1t at home"
| My heart pricked me. Perhaps had
! been too harsh. Melinda has behaved
| very badly to me--she was an incun-
slant end mercenary little hrt-but,
all the same. loved her better than
any ono else in the world. and would
have done anything to prevent her
frcm being really unhappy.
| Come and have d game Of solo"
said the rector.
We played hand or two. but my
| thoughts We're not on the game. Was
| it possible that Melinda was still wait
ing at the gate? | felt that at all costs
I must go and see.
| I'm afraid you must excuse me-"
said. Il have letter which simply
must go by the 10 o'clock post. | will
come in again for an hour. if you will
allow me, when have posted it,
| SO | left them, and they settled down
| happily to three handed nap--Lconard
| liked nap better than solO-and |
slipped through the orchard to the lane
at the other end. which knew so well
| There was d little old worm eaten gate
IL the lane. leading into the kitchen
garden of Mclinda's home, and this
was where half hoped, half feared to
| find her.
When ! found that she was not there,
| was asha med to own that felt a lit
tie pang Of disappointment. / had
spent many pleasant half-hours with
| Melinda at that gate. | felt almost
| sentimental, and q tender parting
scene in the proper stage manner
would have been, i'm my present
frame of mind, rather pleasant than
| otherwise. | turned with a sigh to go
| home.
1t was too good to Ia ST." told my
self dolefully. Melinda is the most
charming person in the world but |
ought to have known that pretty little
mouth OF hers meant weakness and in
conStancy. | wish | had never
gone away. | was fool to
trust to her promises. What