Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1904-08-23

VERY bad advice that Promiss
nothing 81 tie kind. Philip. But what
are you thanking him for. kateY' ssid
the CHEEKY voice of the colonel as b
came In the door.
Thanking him for Seymour. father
"Ah. my boy" said the colonel. grasp
Ing his hand. You don't know bow
glad am 10 see you. IL Is like one 70
turning from the dead. But IL IL lsfs
and cold and quite dark. supper u
ready. Let us 60 up 10 the Hall
shall see the naval commissioners In q
few days. Seymour. and get you an
other and better ship. The country
Is full Of your action. They've strucA
medal for you and voted you prise
money and thanks and all that. make
no doubt I can get you the best ship
there Is on the ways or planned. Twas
u most heroic action
"Not now. father" said katharine
jealously. throwing her arm about her
lover. He shall not, cannot 80 now
He must have rest for long time. and
he must have me. We are to be mar
ried as soon as he Is well, and the
country must wait. Is 1t not so. John?
whats that!" said the colonel, pre-
tending great surprise.
"Sir." answered Seymour nervously
81 have something to say to you
something | must say. Will you give
me the privilege Of few moments
conversation with you!"
seymour" said the colonel, smiling
"you asked me that once before, did
you not?'
"Yes. sir, believe So"
"And | answered you-how"
"Why. you said. il my memory serves
me, that you
Exactly. that would see you after
supper. and so / will. Come, chill
dren. let us 90 in; this time | warrant
you there will be no interruptions"
The father and son turned consider
ately and walked away, leaving the
lovers 10 lOIioW.
you won't leave me, John, will you
now that you have just come back!
NO, Kate, not now; l am good FOL
nothing until get strong"
Good for me, though; but when you
do get strong?'
Then, If my country needs me, dear
est. shall have to 60. But l feaI
there will be no more ships Of ours te
get to sea. The blockade is getting
more strict every day. can be sol
dier. though. No. Kate, do not beg
me. My duty TO my country constrains
me-"
Don't talk about it now, then. John
At least | shall have you for long
time. 1t will be long before you are
well again
Yes. | fear so," he said with a sigh
why do you sigh, dearest"
Because | want to stay with you
and ought to welcome any oppOr'
tunity to enter active service. Think
what old Bentley would say"
"Old Bentley did not love you,' she
replied quickly, with jealous pang.
"Ah, did he not" said Seymour
softly.
There was long pause.
well" said katharine ut last Il
suppose nothing will move you II your
duty calls you, but warn you II you
get killed again | shall die. l could
not stand it another time" she cried
piteOusly.
We'll, dearest, shall try to live foi
you. Now we must go to the Hail.
Bur, to anticipate. fate would be
kinder toward Katharine In the futur,
than she had been in the past. and II
was many a day before her lover-heI
husband, rather-was able to get t.
sea. and. as II they had suffered
enough, he went through the rest OF
the war on land and sea scathless and
was one of those who stood beside the
great commander before the trenches
of Yorktown when the British soldiers
laid down their arms. But this was
all of the future. and now they turned
quietly and somewhat sadly to follow
the others.
This time 1t was Katharine who help
ed Seymour up the hill. Slowly. hand
in hand, they walked across the lawn
up the steps Of the porch and toward
the door OF the Hall. The night had
fallen, and the house was filled with d
soft light from the wax candles. They
paused q moment on the threshold
Katharine resolutely mastered her
fears and resolved to be happy In the
present; then. needless of all who
might see. she kissed him.
"Home at last, john" she said, beam
ing upon him.
And there. with the dark behind and
the light before, we may say goodby
to them.
THE END