The Republican journal., 1904-12-29
A Letter and its Result.

The sensitive face under the Dig,
rose-lined sunhat was very white. Her
lips quiveled little. The hands that
held the vagrant sheet trembled.
Il thought" said the girl to herself,
Il hadn't begun to care-in that way.
/ was only becoming-attracted. But
the shock-the disillusion-"
When she had started out an hour
ago for her usual brisk morning walk
along the crisp shelving sands, she had
been one of the most Indifferent, light
hearted of girls. She was done with
college and the two years of foreign
travel that had succeeded school as a
sort of polishing process. She had per
yelled future held in it's keeping. She
had aesthetic tastes, and her skill in
athletic sports was the admiration of
her less vigorous girl friends She had
been having a beautiful time down at
this gay, unconventional resort on the
Michigan coast. And now-well, tenn
porarily it seemed that her pleasure
was spoiled.
And in her heart she knew that she
must have been beginning to think too
much of the man whose attention to
her had been SO marked, or else this dis
covery would not SO affect her. Sitting
to rest and watch the white-crested
waves come curling up to break on the
border of the lake like threads of rareSt
lace, her attention had been caught by
a small, white, whlrling object that at
first sight she had taken for bird. 1t
whisked lower and nearer. Then it
hoated so close she could put out her
hand and grasp it, and she found it was
a sheet OF note paper covered with OIL
minutlve chirography. 1t was written
on the stationery of the fashionable
hotel looming up on the dunes behind
her. At first she had been about to
crumple it up and cast it aside. But in
the very act OF doing SO name-her
own name-met her eye.
Even then she hesitated. But the
three words were so significant she
must know their writer's full meaning.
The page was the continuation of let
ter, And the first three words at the
top of the page were "-love Ivy Lyle"
lmpulsively, giving herself no chance
to weigh the niceties of honor in the
balance, she scanned the page.
love Ivy Lyle. I've fought against
it-for can't afford to marry her, as
you know. But she has rather swept
me off my feet, old chap! At first was
taken with her innocent beauty. There
was no one at this big hostelry to COM
pare with her for good looks. So let
myself drift. l thought she was just a
dear little country girl, and that it
would be easy to say a sentimental
You know what these Warm-weather
lirtations amount to. So I've been
going to see her steadily and taking her
aEoruuharc No 6anoino and
swimming and boating and all the rest
of it. And-by Jove! for all she's
mighty quiet, I've come to find out
she's not the typical little country girl
at all. She's well read and travelled,
though she seemed rather aghast when
she let that fact out. And she looks at
fellow in cool, appraising sort of way
that makes him feel pretty cheap-if
his spoken thoughts are not quite up to
her standard. But she's not really in
the social swim. She's native. | take
1t. It's been hard to pin her down to
any confidence about herself. She lives
with very dragon of an aunt at
farmhouse on the edge of town. She
wears her cotton dresses and shade
hats in way that takes the shine out
of women up at the hotel, but I've
never seen her sport any of the swell
clothes they wear to the hops here.
Oh, confound it! What's the use of
my incoming away to you at this rate2
I've got to go away and try to forget
her before it's too late.
''Damari5 Chase and her father are
to be here this week, they tel! me. And
she's the girl the heads of both our
houses expect me to marry She may
have the good taste to refuse me--and
] most hupe she will. She's a great
helress, and the consolidation of the
business interests would be a capita!
thing; but, oh, hang me if | thought it
would be so hard to get that little girls
sweet face out of my heart. | must dc
the sensible thing, and 60 in for the
twenty Thousand year. Lord. but
I'm sorry for those poor devils of kings
who have to wed for reasons of state.
/ feel dlsgustingly like one of them. I'm
sleepy. Good night-1'll finish this in
she morning, Ten to one ! dream of
wv ..viap'
1t needed no signature. The writer
was easily recognized She crumped
she paper tightly in her hand and thrust
it INTO the blouse of her gown as rapid,
heavy step came crouching down the
beach, That step had become too
, "a tS.santiy familiar. Could he nave
known the sheet had been whisked ont
Of his room: Had he seen it blown
down to the beach?
Good morning, Miss Lyle! He
flung himself down beside her, His
handsome, boyish face looked strained
and set, as though insomnia had claim
ed him. You're out early. viii you
go rowing with me today up to Clear
Springs?"
IL can't" she faltered.
"And won't you come up Black River
today?" entreatingly, almost tenderly.
at may be the last timeH
He was pianning-planning. Oh, that
cruel, cruel letter! But-the last time,
he had said,
She flung up her head and smiled at
him.
Yes, will go!" she said.
They were very gay that afternoon,
almost recklessly SO. They had luncheon
at the inn near the springs, and floated
back between the wooded banks just as
the day was closing. When they came
to parting at the clump of lilac bushes
in the lane that led to the farmhouse
Jack Ardsley leaned forward and looked
into her eyes,
Dear" he said, 81 love you! l love
you, and | can't let you go out of my
life-ever. You don't know much of
me, Ivy, but-will you be my wife,