The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1905-12-15
MY PROMISE.


dreth and joined our social my foster
mother had just died and left me the
care of her daughter Cynthia, eight
years old.
"Margaret,' said our mother the
day before she died, "you know wha.
have done for your
Indeed do | replied.
.Now is your opportunity to make
a return. Cynthia has no kith or
kin to rely on. Without your care
| know not what will become of her.
Promise me that you will be a moth
er to her."
Il will"
"To do that you must not have chill
dren of your own: 1 know a woman's
nature. We will never permit any
child's interest to stand in the way of
our own. Promise me that you will
not marry until Cynthia comes Of
age"
was silent.
"At least until she has married"
Again l made no reply.
"Will you not promise me this?
Il promise you that I will not mar
ry till Cynthia has love of her own
until she is engaged.
My foster mother sighed and turn
ed away. She knew she had no right
to ask such sacrifice. What I had
promised was equivalent almost to
not marrying at all. Eight or nine
years. att least must pass before
Cynthia would love. and she might
never love at all.
Had not met Irving Peck l would
have promised my aunt all she asked
without hesitation. l had only known
him little while, but it was long
enough to tell me that had met my
fate. The truest love, to my think
ing, is that which comes upon both
the man and the woman from the
M moment they meet. Irving Peck and
| each recognized in the other mate,
and month after my foster mothers
death he asked me to be his wife.
When told him of my promise he
did not ask me to break it; indeed, he
told me that If I did be would not
respect me. He said that he would
marry no other woman, and if Cynthia
stood always in our way he would
never marry. We did not think it
best that we should remain near each
other, and Irving went away.
/ neither saw or beard from him
till Cynthia was seventeen; then he
wrote me that since she was of a mar
riageable age we might meet again. l
replied that Cynthia promised to be
coquette, and there would be little
hope Of her choosing a husband. l
continued after this to hear from him
occasionally, but could give him no
hope. At nineteen Cynthia had flirted
with every young man in the village;
and, like Alexander, there were no
more conquests for her to make. At
this time friend in Caldwell invited
her to visit, and Cynthia gladly &C.
cepted the invitation. I wrote Irving
while she was away that be might
come to see me. The truth is, Cynthia
was so full of witchery and witha1
was so much younger than | that l
feared to have him come while she
was at home. Twas disappointed to
learn from him that a special project
,ould pr, vent his coming till about
the time Cynthia would return.
When Cynthia was fifteen she had
discovered the secret of my promise.
We slept together, and l talked in my
sleep. l had never told her, fearing
that she might feel constrained to mar
ry on my account. But l did not
know her. Realizing that | looked
to each of her love affairs to release
me, she ser med to take a malicious
pleasure in tantalizing me. wrote
Irving of this, and l should not have
done so, for it made him furious.
One morning l received letter from
Cynthia, and to my great delight, it
told me that she had met man whom
she fancied she could love. She had
not thought to give me his name, but
this was Of little consequence to me,
for | would not know him. Her next
letter, written two weeks later, an
nounced her engagement, which meant
that at last | was free Before finish
ing reading her letter threw it down
and took up my pen to write irving
announcing the good news; but, turn
ing to the letter again tor the name of
Cynthia's fiancee, the room swan, and
| fell in a swoon. The name was
living Peek.