Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1903-01-24

SUN IODpeu Tie uOF1ZOU tue tlOuuS
cleared away. When l came into the
garden the light and gladness of the
summer were on every side. The roses,
shaking off shower of diamond drops
as l passed, filled the air with frag-
rance, and every lesser denizen of bed
and border added it's share of sweet
nees. A blackbird was warbling IN
lime tree, whilst faint music came
from the brook which skirts the green
| lip of the lawn.
But my heart failed to respond to
the glad greeting of the summer morn
ing. l was at variance with myself
and with all the world. l had ar
ranged for breakfast at an early hour
so that 1 might catch the first train to
town, for l wished to escape at once
from surroundings which had become
unbearable. After an almost sleep
less night had risen without looking
at my watch. Descending, | found
that had forestalled even the servants
of the house, so | wandered into the
garden to pass an hour, restlessly
tramping the smooth paths. With ev-
cry step hurled defiance at the quiet
beauty Of the roses and cursed the
blackbird for It's soft, sweet singing.
At times I called myself a fool for
allowing an empty laugh to thus en-
bitter me. l urged upon myself the
necessity for putting aside such mani
fest folly. What, l argued, was the
uncertain love of a foolish girl COM
pared with the rewards which art and
learning hold out to their devotees?
And yeti argued with myself in vain
my heart told me that my reasoning
was faulty.
Dolly and 1 had been friends ever
since childhood. l had come to re-
gard her, half unconsciously, perhaps,
but really, as my special property.
Long ago l had settled 1t in my heart
that my life should be devoted to her
happiness, for l loved her dearly with
a love that had stood the test of years.
And fancied-I foolishly nurtured the
thought-that Dolly was not averse
from me.
And now 1 had spoken to her-only
,, last night. l told her that at last
had an assured position, that l could
speak as man amongst men.
touched lightly upon the fortune thai
had so lately inherited. Finally,
told her that her parents and my moth
er were well pleased with our friend
ship. And l asked her then and there
to say that she would be my wife.
l paced the garden more quickly,
and clinched my fists in anger, as the
memory of the interview bit it's way
into my mind. l cursed my folly for
placing myself in a position where
such rebuff was possible, for Dolly had
laughed in my face, had thrown back
her pretty head, and, regarding me
through half-closed eyelids, had laugh
ed. Then she had said-I recalled the
words with unpleasant distinctness:
"My dear Jack, you know how glad
| am to hear Of your fortune and sue
cess. But why, o why, am | to be
your wife? | do not see any logical
connection between what you have told
me and what you have asked me. And
have not the faintest idea of prom
Using any such thing"
Thus she had treated the whole af-
fair as huge and entertaining joke.
And well, l had left her alone in
the summer house and had gone away
feeling more angry than ever before
In my life.
Suddenly, as l paced the garden
trying to comprehend what to me as
yet seemed impossible | came face to
face with the cause OF ali my mis-
quieting thoughts. She looked was
bound to admit it-as fresh and sweet
as the morning itself. She had been
gathering roses and carried a basket
| filed with the fragrant blooms. With
out the least sign of surprise or en-
barrassment she advanced to meet me-
"Sinee when have you taken to early
rising, Jack? she inquired with a gay
| little laugh. II admire your choice
Of an occasion for the experiment; the
morning Is perfect, is it not?"
Ignoring her question, | said:
81 am off to town almost Immediately
THAT it, as soon as l nave had some
breakfast"
l fancied that her face grew slightly
graver as she exclaimed:
$50 soon! Why, l thought you were
at least going to remain over my birth
day. We are such old friends, and
besides, you know, you promised"
l tried to assume as unconeerned a
manner as possible.
AFTER what took place last night"
taid, with dignity, 81 should hardly
q. .--.-a IL l.