The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1905-06-07

j LITTLE MAKE-BEL!EVE
y A CHILD Of TIE SLUMS.
III :::::: BY B. L. FARJEON. ::::::
:::::. BY B. l.. FARJEON. $3.50:

SfF NJ
happy days
YES, dear, a happy day indeed. 1t is
hard to remember all that occurred, it
was so long and full of pleasure"
II can remember everything-every-
thing! I shall never, never forget it.
Don't you think it "a the happiest,
the very happiest day you ever spent?'
do you think so, S~aranne?"
Eyes, Make-Believe."
"Then so do /! Yer know, Saranne,
that to see you happy makes me happy,
too"
II know, Make-Believe. I am afraid
I have been very ungrateful to you
sometimes"
That you never have, my dear. You
have always been very good to me-"
"Make-Believe," whispered Saranne,
lone day I may be able to repay you
for all you've done for me-"
ITO repay me, my dear? Why, that
is as if you owed m ~somethink."
Il never knew" said Saranne, nest
ling closer to Little Make-Believe, It'll
lately when it was put into my head,
how much l really W you. I never
even thought of it, %ungrateful girl that
I am"
You mustn't speak of yerself in that
way. I will not allow you. Who has
been putting such ideas into your
head?"
Cant you guess, Make-Believe?
The best man that breathes on the
earth, who loves you, and is never tired
of speaking of you. Can't you guess,
dear?"
"a man as loves me! AS calls me
sister! Do you want me to tell yer his
name? Are yer too shy to do it yer
self? Why, Saranne, it's dark, and no
one can see! And your prince is come!
didn't I always tell yer he would?-
and his name is"
walter"
She pressed Saranne in her arms
close to her heart.
1t was the name she expected to
hear, but she had not the courage to
mention it first; brave as she was,
capable Of self-sacriice as she was, she
was not strong enough for that.
1t was the death-knell of her hopes
which, she acknowledged now, but
never before, held sway we her; as if
she should ever have had the presump-
ton to lift her eyes so high!-it was
the d%eath-knell of her love, but she
bore it nobly.
Are you glad, Make-B Believe"
Gam L glad" repeated Little Make
Believe. What greater happiness can
I want than what you've told me?
There is only n thing, my dear; he
is a gentleman, and we are only poor
girls-what will his father say"
walter has spoken Of that. he has
not told his father yet-why, Make
Believe, I only knew. it to-day!-but his
father is the best of men, after Walter,
of course, and Walter says he has
never crossed him in a wish. 1t has
made me proud to hear the opinion
Mr.. Deepdale has of you, Make-Believe
but Walter shall tell you all that"
"I'm glad Mr.. Deepdale thinks we'll
of me, though it's hard to say for what
reason. I've never done nothing that
l know of except to thank him for his
goodness to u.s."
All this time Little ake-Believe had
not kissed Saranne, whose head she
had kept pillowed on her breast, but
now by a simultaneous movement Of
affection their lips met in loving en-
brace.
Why, Make,Believe' you're crying"
exclaimed Saranne.
Pm crying for joy, my dear, at the
prospect afore you. With all my heart
l pray that it may come to pass-with
all my heart-with all my heart"
1--WE are not to go back to Clare Mar
ket, Make Believe; we are to remain
here until all is settled, and then we
are to 60 to school for a year-yes,
Make-Believe, you and MT together
and Walter is coming to see us regu-
larly-and at the end of the year-you
can guess what Walter says will hap
pen then"
Its q easy guess, God bless yer
both, my dear, dear sister, and my
brother as / hope'n be-"
There will be no occasion for you
to struggle any more, Believe
the hard old life is over. Walters
father is rich, and we shall never,
never again want for bread. You are
crying still, ake-B~elieve"
My hearts so full that it's running
over. Go On, dear"
And you are to live with us always,
and never, never leave us tn"
Till what, my dear"
It'll your prince comes and takes
you away from u.s."
That's never going TO happen, Sar-
anne"
"Ah, but you don't know, Make-Be-
lieve."
Il know we'll enough. There's not a
bit of room in my heart for any other
love than what fills it now, for you and
Walter. Go to sleep, my dear, and
dream of him-and Of me just a little,
Go to sleep, my dearest dear, go to
Sleep
In the midst of her tears she softly
sang an old song with which she used
to lull Saranne TO sleep in the days Of
her infancy land before a dozen broken
words were sung Saranne had sunk