Middletown transcript., 1903-07-18
Surely you would not deceive


you have hold of anything always
be sure it's your own.
If you haven't lost your heart
for dead certainty, this time,
then I don't know anything Of
the "signs of the times"
I shouldn't be at all surprised
if you were quite correct in your
conjectures. She's the sweetest
little woman I ever saw, and [
intend to ask her to marry me.
| I've seen her daily for about two
months now, and / consider that
we are far better acquainted than
we should have been through
years Of ordinary society &C
quaintance. I have learned, as
you know, how easily one can,
be deceived, and how little, in
reality, one can possibly know
of young ladies one meets in So
ciety aEd-Uice Uersa of course
our opportunities are fully equal
to theirs.
You are right. It's a regular
lottery, at best. But do think
Miss Percy very charming
young lady, and I wish you all
success in your wooing, my dear
boy. I am sure your wife will
be a happy woman.
Thank you, old fellow, holding
out his hand to his friend, who
shook-it warmly.
The next day it rained steadily,
a quiet, persistent, down-pour
which bid fair to last indefinitely.
It's no use, mamma, the game
is up, and I have promised to
marry Mr.. Davis. Anyone can
see that st. John is in love with
Margaret, and she's welcome to
him though I own I would like
some Of his money, beating an
exasperating tattoo on the wet
window panes as she looked
moodily out on the drenched
earth, and the sullen sky.
o, Maud, l am most cruelty
disappointed.
How can I help it? snappishly.
I've done my level best, consid-
ering that it isn't leap-year.
Very well. There's no more
to be said. We will leave here
next week. This is the fourth
Of September isn't it?
Yes.
l don't know how we shall
| manage. We owe everywhere.
And, O, Maud, how can you fancy
that insignificant creature? If
he was rich, of course it would
be different. And I was SO am
bilious for you. It is a bitter
blow.
I've been for sale long enough.
I'm tired and disgusted with the
whole thing. | told Bertie that
| hadn't a red cent and he don't |
care, and I'm going to marry him
next month-so there!
1t was wash-day in the kitchen |
that "blue Monday" and Mar
garet's white arms were up to
the elbows in the foamy suds.
I am almost sorry we began,
Mary, it's SO far to bring water,
in the rain. I fully expected
that Jacob would be over to carry
it for US, but don't see anything
Of him, going to the window and
clearing the mist from a pane
through which she looked anx-
iously into the rain.
We've water, water, all around,
but not a drop to use. Fortu-
nately we don't need it just yet,
and he may come before we do.
But no Jacob appeared, and
half an hour had passed.
I shall don my paraphernalia,
Mary, and 60 myself. No, you
must not so out in the rain with
your neuralgia, she added in
answer to Mary's demur.
She enveloped herself in a
waterproof, drawing the hood
over her head, put on pair of |
overshoes, took two pals, and
started along the slippery, wet
path to the well. How dull and
wet and wretched it was! Yes
terday it had been SO beautiful,
and gentle smile trembled on
her red lips as she recalled the
incidents Of that bright morning.
She swung the bucket rapidly |
down into the well, carefully /
poising herself on the smooth
wet stone. When the bucket was
filed she drew it out Of the water,
and it was about half way to the
top when the rope broke, the
bucket fell back into the water
with splash, and Margaret just
saved herself from an ignomin-
ious fall.
She stood there in the rain.