The Montgomery advertiser., 1904-08-05

manages his campaign properly. Ana
he believed 1t, for he had, all along,
had a suspicion that this old friend
was the one who had stood In his Aght.
Benson was not jealous; he was might
ily concerned, though, about the pos
sible effect of her engagement on
their friendship. He did not see how
he could exist without her letters
But the sutton did not win
When the third year was nearing an
end, Dora's letters became a strange
mixture of irritation and tenderness.
Was she well? Was she happy? Did
teaching wear on her nerves. He asked
these questions again and again, and
she answered. II am weary OF this
dull town. l don't see why you Will
not come to see me-.
At last there came a day when Ben
son rose from reading one of her let
ters and paced his room nervously.
81 know it, he said, cxultantly. Il
know 1t. She may never love me, but
she can never love another man so
long as we are such friends" And h"
was happy.
He could not tell at what moment
the thought first came to him that per-
haps she might yet learn to love him,
Impossible, of course, for she had not
seen him in three years, but still the
thought would creep into his heart,
and with 1t came terror 1t could not
be. He wouldn't let her, for he was
unworthy. Once, he thought of the
butterfly Dora's love would have made
him insanely happy for hours, but now
Queen Dora must not lower herself
by loving him. 1t was glory enough
to be her friend.
So he refused again and again to WIS.,
los cttaniptnp hepQ m Q
almost certainty, and then he told
her frankly of 1t, and of his own ut
ter unworthiness. And she answered
as frankly. Perhaps what you say
Is true. 1 cannot tell you unless I see
You. Won't you Gomez" But he could
not bring himself to the point of risk
ing all in one interview. If he over
came the feeling of unworthiness, and
went to beg for her love. what II she
couldn't love him? He confessed to
her that he was a rank coward and o
laggard in love.
Then: II shall be goin through
your town next Thursday on my way
to Chicago. If 1 do not SEQ you at the
station, shall never forgive you"
And so he was to see her again after
three years, 4yAxnew terror came upon
him. He dreaded to find her the same
childish girl-woman who had fluttered
her filmy laces and faded away. Yet
that was the vision that gazed at him
innocently wherever he turned his
eyes. mo, no." he muttered. Il do not
love you. 1 love the Dora of the let
| tiers. 1 cannot be civil to you. 1 want
to see Yours sincerely, Dora Hartly.
love Your own true friend. Dora"
How little." lie gasped. as he first
caught sight of her. He had forgot
ten how small she was, for she was
somehow. quite tall in her letters
Yes. the same innocent butterfly-bu,
different. She looked very little old
er. but in the lines OF the prettily odd
face were written ideals immovable
as granite hills, principles fully formed
and nobler than his own, and thoughts
| lofty and beautiful. He knew sudden
| ly that they were all there three years
| before. but he, the fool, had loved hei
| for her girlish winsomeness alone, and
had overlooked entirely the signs OF
| true womanly beauty.
Now, SIR with the same toss of the
golden head, and the same birdlike
touch of the fingers on his coat why
have you been so ungallant? Make
| your excuses?"
| said.
Il was willing to risk it. You are
not generous, sir"
But your friendship has grown sc
dear to me that l couldn't risk MARI.
| ing 1t again"
Il told you that l would risk II
Don't you understand? Oh. you per.
verse friend. You'd better go now
Mr. Benson, the bell is-ringing."
Dora, he cried. will you MARI,
me?"