St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1904-12-03
her check like glowing. heating heart

/ AASA SSACeA Aho q SlOWluS, UedQuS uedIt
and almost seemed to throb with the
intensity sof its life, she kissed it, and
turned to give it to her messenger.
But, as she turned, the card that
had been sent with them fiuttered to
| the floor. 'Mr. John Harrison Thomp-
son" it read, as if in silent appeal for
the discarded one. Something in the
| injustice of sending Thompson's rose
| as an answer to Caspar arrested her,
They had been meant to convey the
same message of undying love to her.
Poor jack" she whispered. Then rails
ing her eyes to the window where the
soft moonlight etreamed over the floor,
1T was just such night that THAT he
- She did not dare to finish the
thought for fear the memory of that
night would break down her dutiful
resolve. Still, just for the sake of the
argument, she unused, suppose that she
had chosen Jack. Her parents, she
knew, would never hear to such a
thing, but suppose that, as Jack had
planned, they had run away. Little
rills and thrills of excitement quiv.
cred through her frame at the mere
fancy. 1t had all been so delicious to
plan! Then, as the wife of an Ameri-
can signore, she would live in the
American part of the town, meet Amer
lean people, travel, perhaps, over the
great American continent, and come in
time to be herself almost American.
That had been her dearest dream.
Turning to light another gas jet, she
struck a match on the sole of her
slipper-a thing no well-conducted
Italian girl would ever think of do
ing, but having once seen it done on
the stage, she deemed it a national
habit.
Another tap at the door. els the
signorina's note. ready?" asked AL
fredo.
She had forgotten all about her an
swer in her reverie.
In a minute, Alfredo" she an
swerd again, as she cast about for
some token for Thompson. She could
not bring herself to pen the cruel
words, for he had believed so conf
IDENTIFY in her. She might take one OF
the stiff, scentless white things she
had in her hair to send him. She
laughed hard little laugh at the
mockery of exchanging their flowers.
He could not fail to understand it's
meaning. 1t would be the admission
Of the white feather, and the cold,
%1.1 h;
as any words that her love for him was
dead. Well, she would choose as small a
one as she could to make the hurt as
small as possible. Poor Jack! She
would probably never see him again,
he would some day forget her and
always go on loving him because she
could not help it.
''Natalia, Natalia!" came the signo-
ra's voice from the hall.
I'm minute she answered ner-
vously. 'It must be ten O'clock"
Run every step of the way, Alfre-
dol" she commanded the stiff old serv-
ant, as if it were through his fault that
she was late, 1T is almost ten now, and
you must not be late.''
ooh, my dear daughter the little
signora murmured, weeping anew at
the sight of Caspar's camellias, this
time for joy, Il knew all the time that |
you would make the right choice. You
are too much your mothers own
daughter not to see the right course !
at last" And drawing her tall daugh- |
ter's face down to level with her own,
she kissed her tenderly.
The old signore also drew her aside,
and whispered: II am glad to forgive |
all the past anxiety your foolishness
has given us, in my content at knowing |
you have at last decided, and so wise
IT,"
The girls eyes beamed with happi-
ness all evening. Not a trace of the
that had darkened her
eyes few hours before was left. The
guests that came anticipating new rev.
Citations of the rumored scene were
to receive the announcement
Of the betrothal of Natalia to her IA
theirs friend, Caspar.
ut must have been mistake" they
began to whisper in disappointed tones.
Natalia, although she felt battery
of curious eyes always upon her, re-
ceived the showers of felicitation
that were bestowed upon her, and was
Hght-hearted and hap
py. And when the guests had at last
lepartedy she kissed her parents fond
y and tripped gayly off to bed Fling
ng herself down by the window she
gave herself up to the joy of the mo-
nent-the joy of well-doing and the
happy consciousness of
having done what was right and being
'estored to the favor of her dear par
,nts. The willful, wicked girl who had
stood at the same window only few
hours before seemed trivial, I'M
worthy thing compared with this good,
lutiful daughter.
''My love is like red, red rose!"
Had she slept, and was she dream
ng? Was she to be haunted all her
life by the echo of Jacks whistle?
Again the sound, guarded and low,
tut clear, insistent, and compelling.
The window opened softly. "Oh,
|ack, go away" timid little voice +,
beaded. I'm going to marry Caspar."
Ter voice grew firmer as she repeated
Ter self-denunciation and her mar
yr-spirit arose.
But Jack was American, and inven-
i've in his way. The martyr-spirit /,
Jagged under fire. Ten minutes be-
ore her life had been dedicated to the
ove OF Caspar. But Jack would not
o away. Then another sudden i'm
ulse seized her. O blessed imnnlse