Daily inter mountain. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1881-1901, 1901-02-28

one Was Il COuulTy girl, pIctly, oCHti-
mental and susceptible; and he thought
with a vain mans selfishness, that he
could kill time during his enforced exile
from the city by making love to her. 1t
was delightful to see a girl blush ana
tremble when he paid her a compliment
in that caressing voice of his The girls
of his own set were too used to him or
too we'll trained in worldly ways to do
more than cast down their eyes in simu-
lated bashfulness on such occasions: and
many of them laughted openly at him.
So Dora Miller was refreshing novelty.
and he set himself to see how far his
powers of fascination could go. Once or
twice, when he saw the Roadway he was
making, he asked himself how it would
he with the girl when his vacation was
over and he should go away, but the an
swer was always cOnsoling to his con-
science. shell forget me in month,
she is sentimental; fact is she needs
a lesson like this to teach her self
control.
So he won't day after day to the
vine wreathed porch where she sat and
piled her with those subtle comp!i-
ments which to the worldly woman are
but airy nothings, but which to her
were fun of tender meaning. And
David Harris looked on and scowled
with helpless misery. He had loved her
so long, and, until the coming of this
city fellow he had felt reasonably sure
of her He had been working for her
since before She quit the schOO.roOm
no plantation in the county was better
kept and no house more attractive for
a young housekeeper: and surely no
man in the world wanted a girl like he
wanted Dora. But Lewis Lorton, with
his polished ways and soft voice, had
made him nearly hopeless: Dora never
seemed to think of anybody else those
golden August days.
And in fact the girl walked in a dream
whose roseate light was unlocked by SO
much as a film of doubt. True herself,
she doubted not the truth of the man
who sought her with such evident sim
certify. Davids warnings she looked upon
as outbursts of Jealousy. The awaken
ing from her dream came one moonlight
might when Lewis was starting away.
1T is a pity that the happy days of a
mans life are the quickest to pass he
said with a tender ance and sigh. II
rame here mentally-and verbaly-curs-
ing the doctor who sent me; | go away
bles ing him for many happy hours.
You are going away?" If he was
wSt ching to see her face twitch with
pain he was rewarded.
Yes. tomorrow niaht; they telegraph
ed me today. You will be sorry-you
will miss me-"
She lifted her eyes to his with no at
Tempt to hide the emotion mrrored
there. A curious thrill was upon him, a
4 i,,lI -, Il CO., j.; Sr.%
''affair" six years ago. He was proud
that he could feel so young. Truly, this
rural episode had been quite worth
while.
yes" he went on presently. with Z
simulated sadness, II am going back to
the routine of Office work; but in my
memory YOU will live as the star of this
beautiful summer. But oftener than in
any other way / shall think of you as
you looked in the play we gave the 9TH
err night. Do you know you have the
making of great actress in you?-
graceful figure, lovely face, and the pur-
est and most pathetic voice l ever
heard
Il But he was talking to unheeding ears:
the girl was fighting futilely the sob in
her throat. and her 6ismayed heart was
hooking out of her trimming eyes. She
hated herself for her weakness and al
most hated him for seeing it, but she
could not help it. He took her hand,
but she snatched it away tempestuously:
and pretending to be much hurt he step
ped down to the gravel walk and stood
hooking back at her as she stood in the
! brilliant moonlight that flooded the
porch. the vines from the caves forming
Il tremulous drapery above her.
Il do not know why you are angry
with me- he said, but you are magni
ficent standing there like some tragedy
queen. I could almost fancy you on
some stage receiving the homage that is
your due Then after pelting her with
Ia handful of roses from the bush beside
him, he went away.
4 When he came the next afternoon to
say his last adieus. she sent an excuse
and remained in her room. Her pride
kXas not strong enough to hold back the
Tears but it was strong enough to bid
her hide them. White she sobbed out her
heart With her face in the soft pillow,
Lewis sat on the rushing train and
smoked
/ The autumn was a dreary one to Dora,
nursing her hurt heart in silence. David
guessed how it was With her. and
+ gound his teeth in impotent rage. At
christmas he asked her to marry him.
and got the refusal he expected; but he
did not utterly despair.
/, one day as Dora sat gazing out into the
| Mnirling snow, there suddenly came to
h,er the words Lewis had spoken that
last night on the porch: "You have in
you the making of a great actress"
All these weeks they had lain hidden
| In the cells Of her memory; now they
came back with sound as of singing.
Were they true: could she escape from
| herself and carve out a new life along
this line? At school she had been the
'eocutionist' of her class, and she be-
gan to recall the flattering things that
had been said of her. Day after day