The Mitchell capital. (Mitchell, Dakota [S.D.]) 1879-1918, 1904-03-18
REFUSED AND Accepted.
Copyright, 1901, by W. IL. ncarst.>

That was what she said.
1 rose up, trying desperately to appeal
unconcerned and careless. Pooh! 1t was
of no use! Mariory Cheswick saw through
me as IL l had been a pair of specta& es.
She knew that 1 would have sold mysN'f
for a postage stamp just at that moment.
and considered 1t a bargain. l got out OF
the room somehow. not in the most grace
full style, 1 am ~afraid-and went home to
rumlnate on my dismissal.
III Marjory Cheswick had not been an
heiress.'
That was the cry OF my bruised heart
during all the weary days and weeks that
followed. Somehow i could not diveSt
myself of the idea that Marjory had con-
founded me with the herd OF fortune
hunters that had always surrounded her.
There was 10 help for 1t now, however.
All, no help for 1t.
"Charley's going thin-I hope he isn't
| going into a Decline" said my mother
obviously. shaking her head. II wish he'd
consent to a tablespoonful Of cod-liver oil
morning and night
Hang cod-liver oil!' said my father,
adjusting his glasses magisterially. Char
ley only needs a little change. What do
YOU say to u run on the Continent. my
boy, eh?'
Indeed, dad. ! don't need any relaxa-
ton. L would rather remain quietly at
home"
My father looked at me keenly. He was
a man who never changed his mind: and
the upshot of the matter was that on the
Continent l vent. An only son is always
more or less spoiled, and l belong to the
class OF more spoiled.
Cod-liver oil! Foreign travel' What
good would they effect SO long as I
couldn't take a tablespoonful of Marjory
cheswick twice a day. nor carry her
across the channel with me.
Once away from home l extended my
route of travel considerably. and two
years crept away almost before 7 knew
It. ] had not forgotten Marjory Cheswick,
and the silvery NO, SIR was as plainly
imprinted on my memory as II 1T had been
spoken yesterday.
"Cheswick. Cheswick.'' People had al
most forgotten the very name in the FASH
ionable circles whose star Marjory had
once been when l returned to my native
land.
"Chcswicl!." said Uncle Brownson. who
knew everybody and went everywhere.
The fat old man with a daughter who
had property and tiirted a good deal, hey?
Heard he was dead; s'pose the daughters
married and gone"
Married and gone!' i should have liked
to have knocked off Uncle Brownson's
rusty old wig; but, after all, the old MAI
wasn't to blame.
L was strolling one evening through one
of the principal streets leading out of the
city, when / paused a moment at a brill
liantly lighted corner, where three golden
balls hung over my head. There was u
deadlock among cartwlleels and scream
ing drivers, and / mechanically turned to
look at the display In the pawnbroker's
window.
Surely 1 could not he mistaken! i rubbed
the raindrops off my eyelashes, and looked
again. mol was not mistaken.
There, among battered violins, paste
diamonds. and all the incongruous medley
that collects In such places, hung a
green-plumed canary, straining his small
throat In a pagoda of furnished silt wire.
Marjory Cheswick's pet bird! j should
have known IT among all the feathered
denizens Of the Canary islands! But how
on earth came it here?
l hastily stepped into the shop and con-
frorted the man behind the counter.
''That cage? It's been here these six
months. Redeemed-no. of course not.
Fourteen shilllngs we lent on that cage
faint that sort of person redeems things.
Can't tell. I'm sure, who left it here"
l slipped a gold piece across the dingy
counter with trembling hands.
Perhaps you might ascertain, by refer
ence to your books, if"
Certainly, sir-certainly," said the man
clutch!ng at the coin, while his whole
visage relaxed into smiles. Anything to
oblige a gentleman. Let me sc.-let me
see! Oh, here 1t is! January II, Marjoryl
Ches-Ches@" p
L caught the dog's-eared volume and
eagerly read the name, followed by an adj
dress entirely rev to me. 1t was enough.
[ had discovered the missing link, and be-
fore the astonished shopman had recov-
cred his presence Of mind l was once more
pressing through the rain, the mist. the
darkness. The mere idea of Marjory
ChaaWipE In wont-nprhonS i'm Snffartnp-
drove me wild!
Does Miss Cheswick live here-Miss
!arjory Cheswick?"
AT any other time my fastidious senses
| would have revolted from the rocking at
| mosphere of that dismal house: now I
scarcely needed the noise and squalor.
Artificial flower MISUNDERSTANDING
~loor-back." growled the voice of some
one behind a partially open door. and l
had the satisfaction of knowing that I
was being thoroughly scanned by unseen
eyes belonging to the voice.
! Up the narrow, creaking stairs I passed.
My heart seemed almost to stand still
as / tapped at the door, beneath which I
had distinguished a faint, yellow line OF
light.
Come in" responded a low voice, and
l obeyed.
1t was a narrow room, whose sloping
roof would scarcely permit a person to
Ss"Ao oEtiSHe VI eH5 oAI vi is-NtNl =
rusty, f1reless CRATE, and a table where
one tallow candle family Illuminated
heaps Of half-finished artificial flowers
upon which bent a weary. slight figure.
AS my step sounded on the Threshold
she ooke III.
All, how changed-how faded! Yet.
aow beautiful still. The same golden
masses of hair, braided now, instead Of
hanging in curls; the same blue eyes that
had haunted me for ten long years.
''Marjory! Marjory Cheswick!" y,
She shrark back with a low cry, cover3
ing her face with her hands. Had /
sought her so long 10 be discouraged now?
I cannot tell how it happened, nor what
we said; but the first distinct recollection
l have. beyond that dizzy, uncertain mo-
ment OF recognition, is of Marjory sob
bling With her forehead upon my arm.
My life's precious jewel! 1 had found her
at last-my constant love had met its re-
ward.
'Oh, Charley. the only friend who found
me out in adversity-the only one whose
love outlssts grief. and sad, sad troublesl
And l had fancied that-that'-
That | was a fortune hunter? So 1 am.
dearest, and I have found a fortune In
your love-"
Pshaw! What is the use of going into
details? Doesn't the reader know just
what happened afterwards? If he doesn,t