Middletown transcript., 1903-11-07

not much given " lOohihs ait0i VIC Pio
prieties perhaps, but great deal nicel
than most ladies Of her age. And, If the
truth be told, Gerard did not trouble
himself much about the matter. If Mrs
Mcdonald was content to trust her niece
to his care, he should be the last to grum
Bile at such an arrangement. Indeed, he
felt that he could never sufficiently thank
her for all the happy, free, careless hour
he was thus enabled to spend with Gladys
And yet, oh, how he grudged those hour
they few SO fast! Every day he tolt
himself he was growing fonder of her
and he grudged to the past every da,
brought to close.
Gladys, lie said suddenly, one day
when they were sitting in the shade of {
huge rock-he had given up her forma
title long before-you very often puzzle
me.
Do l? she said, half smiling at him from
under huge white umbrella. Why?
Well, ought to know yon pretty vel
by this time.
Yes, think you do.
By Jove, though, 1 don't know any
thing about you! he broke out in rather
an aggrieved tone. I never knew any
one so awfully close about herself as yot
are.
Perhaps not-looking out seward and
flushing lotly. Is there anything about
us that you wish to know, Mr.. Fame?
will tell you if you do.
He could not help laughing in spite oi
himself; and Gladys continued
assure you we are quite respectable.
In fact think had better tell you the
whole family history, and then you will
be satisfied, once for all. have already
told you that we have house in London
Gladys darling, he interrupted, edging
a little nearer to her on the slippery rock
and taking her hand prisoner within his
own, do you know that have been at
Sandune three whole months?
Gladys nodded assent, but said moth
ing.
And do you know-yes, do you know
that have learned to love my Gladys
more than all the world?
So much? she said softly.
Oh, so much, he ECHOED passionately-
SO much that think the memory OF these
months will help to make me better all
my lifei I've not been very good man,
dear; but shall show you some day how
great sacrifice I am willing to make for
your sake.
The soft rose-fush on her face deepened
and the light in her eyes grew brighter.
A sacrifice? she said, in questioning
tone.
Yes. A month ago would have sac
rifced you; now. it is myself.
Just then Dido created a diversion by
coming racing up to her mistress and lay
ing very wet sandy paw across her lap.
The sentiment and the gravity died out
of Gladys's face in moment.
Down, old woman-down! she cried.
See what mess you are making Of my
dress my poor old dressi
How she has tumbled you! Gerard
said, when Dido had set off again on
some important business best known to
herself. Do you know, Gladys, l have
never seen you in anything but that blue
dress?
No, slIe answered carelessly, shaking
the sand off her skirt; and it is awfully
shabby, is it not?
Quite good enough for Sandune, he re-
turned, wisely ignoring the question,
which, with truth, he could only have
answered in the affirmative, for the dress
was undeniably the worst for wear. 1
wonder how you look in evening dress.
An awful guy, the girl replied promptly.
But you wear it sometimes?
Oh, yes, occasionally! have not an
evening dress here, though, nor indeed
any save this. | must go into the town
and try if l cannot get another serge
They are the best for this kind of life.
But should like to see You in some
other kind-say white one, he urged.
Ah, well, you'll have plenty of oppor-
.unities for that! she answered laughingly.
Shall I? When?
After we leave Sandune, of course, she |
replied.
Gerard Fame signed impatiently. He
how he should ever make her |
understand that there could be no "after-
wards" She puzzled him infinitely; and |
ne almost wished she were a little more
1t would make matters |
easier. He had been three months in
in daily-almost hourly--in-
ercourse with her. He had told her,
'ix weeks before, that he loved her, and |
nad elected her response, and vet she
vas in utter ignorance Of his circum-
stances, his life, his future. He had told |
ler nothing; and she had never asked a |
word. Gerard could hardly understand |
| nature 80 little curious as hers. To be |
sure, she had told him little or nothing of |
herself. Her only thought seemed to be
IN the present. To the past she seemed |
o have no ties; of the future she took no |
heed. Itwas very nice and very Arcad-
an, Of course-refreshingly unconven-
;ional; still it was just a trifle trouble
'ome; and Gerard hated trouble of any |
kind.
What are you thinking about? she |
asked suddenly. You look SO grave. |
And just now you sighed like furnace. |
never heard such sigh.
| was thinking of two things, lie re-
urned gravely.
Two very disagreeable things then, / |
I'm sure! she cried. What are they?
The future, for one, he answered, not
ooking at her, but gazing straight out
lcross the changeful pillows, with vexed
blue eyes that saw nothing OF the view,
10 preoccupied was he.
The future! she echoed. / do not see /