Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1906-01-27
OR A BITTER RECkOI
By CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME

ing dozen sheets of paper In his desire
to be neither too soft nor too hard, he
decided at last that the shorter and plain
er he made it the better; and this was
what he had written:
My Dear Ethel should not have
had the courage to do as you have done :;
but perhaps you are rght-as indeed you
always are. Fer the future will you
allow me to consider myself
Your faithful friend,
JOHN DORNTONW
II am glad-so very glad l wrote IT,
1t would have been dreadful II we had
married, and Jack had found out that
he did not care for me afterward. Now
| had better destroy that anonymous
letter. l thought that perhaps Jack
might have wished the engagement to
continue, in which case l should have
sent the letter to him and asked fer an
explanation"
So Ethel went bravely about her home
duties, though her very lips were white
with the restraint she was putting on
her feelings. She tried with all her
strength of mind she possessed to put her
humliating grief away from her.
"Why should l sorrow for him if he
can throw me OFF without one word of
regretr she asked herself, angrily.
Still, In spite of her determination to
crush her love under the weight of her
self-respect, she now and again felt as
If her heart would break. She resolute-
ly denied herself the relief of tears, and
suffered far more intensely in conse-
quence.
The thrushes and the lively robins and
perky sparrows were having q good time
of 1t on the lawns at the Wigwam that
morning. Captain Polling was fond of
these small bros, and liked to see them
about the place, and he had determined
to do what he could to tame them dur
ing the hard winter weather, should he
decide to stay on in the Wigwam, which
he had taken furnished for six months.
He did not take much notice of the little
creatures this morning, though. He was
in a brown study" and sat so motion
less on his comfortable cane chair under
the veranda that the more courageous of
the birds hoped about within a yard
of his feet
The fact was Captain Polling was dis
appointed. He had expected a letter
either from Ethel or Mr.. Mallett that
morning, to settle their visit on the NOR
row.
Even II they do not care to come"
he told himself. they might have been
civil enough to send some conventional
excuse"
After awhile it occurred to him that
perhaps the Mallets had written, and
that the letter had miscarried-and he
felt somewhat relieved at the bare idea.
He made up his mind that he would go
up to town in any case; and as he went
along he would decide upon what course
he would pursue. And all through his
vacillation he never once admitted to
himself that 1t was his longing to see
Ethel again that had for the moment
transformed him into a human shuttle
cock.
Notwithstanding a short notice, the
phaeton was ready minute before the
appointed time, looking perfect in every
detail. Polling had the reins in his hand
and his foot on the step. when he noticed
telegraph boy coming toward the house
He waited a moment. Yes, it was for
him,
From Godfrey Mallett, Buckingham
street, Bloomsbury, to Captain Polling.
The Wigwam Wimbledon. Shall be with
you at o'clock tomorrow. Get sketches
in inspection order"
And the man of thirty felt lad again
in his light-heartedness, as he sent his
handsome bays along the road.