The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-01-04

How would you like to change your life
your way OF life? You are much too
charming to be buried for ever in the coun-
try like this" While he spoke he endeav-
ored to slip his arm around her waist She
would not permit such a familiarity. how
ever. Don't do that, sir. never let any
one do that" she said. rather sharply. II
always say woman shouldn't let man
touch her or kiss her unless he's a-court-
ing her to marry her"
My dear Matte, you are too severe.
Surely you would make an exception-an
exception in my case?" said Val TORI.
why in your case, sir? You're nothing
to me-you aren't accounting me to marry
me-"
He laughed uneasily. at am your greatest
admirer, Matte. But listen to me. You are
far too charming to be buried alive In
Stocklands farm. You must come to Lon
don-the world Of pleasure. beauty and
fashion. You must come and stay with some
friends Of mine. They would be delighted
with you, just fresh from the country, like
the flowers. the butter and the cream
II like London" she replied. cts big
place. isn't it? I've been there"
well, come again, this time to stay. You
must be thoroughly tired of this hfe-cows
and sheep and pigs and poultry. and, worst
of all. John Hazel. Give them all up and
come with me. It's a gentleman husband
that you must have. not a clod."
& I'm not in a hurry to get married, sir
OH no."
Nor am I, Matte. will tell you the
truth. You are sensible girl and will un-
derstand. I have spent rather too much
money on my pleasures UP to. the present.
and cannot marry any woman without
'money-without good big fortune. You are
very handsome, Matte. but, unfortunately,
you have no fortune e
Eyes, sir, have" she replied quickly,
What is it?'
She laughed. "My face is my fortune.
sir"
He Joined her In the laugh. "And quite
enough, too, for a rich man. Come to Lon
don and I'll find husband for you when
you want to marry. cannot marry YOU
myself, but promise you truly to find some
other gentleman to do So"
you're too kind, sir; shouldn't like to
trouble you so much. Oh, no, nobody asked
you to marry me, sir, and can find a gen.
tleman husband for myself when want
one. Thank you all the same, sir. As I
think now, John Hazel's more to my fancy
than you are"
Now you are angry, my beautiful Mat
tie. All. well. never mind. I shall wait pa
tiently, for sooner or later you will accept
my offer to take you to some friends Of
mine in London. Once you were in town
everybody would be talking of your beauty,
and you would be made much of, and could
have as many fine frocks as you wished.
And more than that, you
"Oh, I say! Somebody's a-coming up the
lane. do believe it's John Hazel. Go. sir
do go; get over the stile and cut across this
field to the park"
He did not require to be told twice; he
was off and away in an instant
When Martha dropped the book in her
bower at the end of the orchard, TORI
picked it up. but he did not return it to her;
he absently kept it in his hand, and now,
when he was half way through the park,
he glanced at its title. His establishment
was unspeakable when he read: "Stones
of Venice" Matte reading Ruskin! No, no;
she couldn't understand a word of him.
The book must belong to some one else, he
thought-some one had left it in the farm
put UP there In the summer of the previous
year. He turned to the fly leaf, and read the
superscription: Dorothy Berkeley" Berkeley
Berkeley. Why, that was the name of the
banker to whom he purposed to let the hall
| In the autumn. Perhaps some of the family
had been staying at Stocklands and had
taken a fancy to the hall at the time. He
| would question Matte tomorrow.
| At the same hour on the following morn
| ing Val TORI was in the lane leading to
| Stocklands farm. Martha Woods soon made
her appearance.
You are as sweet and fresh as the morn
| ing, my pretty maid," he cried. on seeing
her. She bobbed a curtsey as usual.
Good morning, sir!" she said. II can't
! stay attacking to you like yesterday. was
all behind. and it threw me out all day
Gentlemen shouldn't want to talk along OF
| poor country girls. The fine things gentle
men says to them they too often take to bt
real true, and it does them no end OF harm
Now, you go on about your business, sir
! and leave me to honest John Hazel"
/ MY dear Matte, I wanted to befrient
/ you," TORI returned. growing rather un
| comfortable under her words. You are too
| good for your position; your life Is a waste
1 thought to raise you to higher position
and In return you speak words that, t.
| me, sound ungrateful-very ungrateful."
why should you want to raise me, sir
I'm nothing to you. I'll tell you straight
| sir. don't believe In you. You're not talk
ing for my good Now, you go on away
sir. I'm going a-milking."
"Oh, before you go. perhaps you will b
so good as to tell me to whom this bool
| belongs
The girl took 1t from him. 1T is mine,
she replied.
yours now" he said, "but formerl
Dorothy Berkley's-eh?"
YES yes'' she answered quickly, form
erly Dorothy Berkley's but mine now"
| She grew crimson, and. without anothe
word hurried away to her cows, two o
three fields off.
And that is all I got for my pains.
TORI muttered. looking after her. Ssh
is not quite so simple thought. Thes
rustics are very deceiving. After ALL Civ
me city-bred girl; she knows what yo
| mean. and you know what she means. Still
she is a gloriously handsome creature"
Il III.
1t was autumn, and Val TORI was sti
in town. Several invitations to countr