The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1907-11-15
FRIDAY AFTERNOON, NOVEMBER IS. 1907
A Change Of Heart.
BY MARIE DIEsIER.

Robert Dalmaine sat idly drumming up
on the piano. His thoughts were On the
evening just past when he had given his
last bachelor dinner Somehow, the idea
of getting married didn't appeal to him
quite as it did few days before. lie
glanced around the room. There were all li-
friends pictures; some Of the college
chums, now in the city, eminent men OF
business; his club friends, who had been
his companions for 50 many years.
Until six weeks ago these friends had
been all he wished for to make his life
pleasant, but hereafter it was to be only
one-the girl whose picture stood on the
mantle. One friend for 80 or more.
Was it quite right? There would be no
more club dinners, no more jolly times
with the boys, nomore bachelor apartments
where he could entertain occasionally IN
his own way.
And how he ever allowed himself to 90
20 far as to get engaged was one Of the
biggest mysteries in his life. 1t was but
a short while before that he had met the
girl. From the first he had been attract
ed to her, perhaps most OF all BY her
frank, earnest ways. To this blase man
of the world she was as some sweet wild
flower that had grown up a. free as the
air about her, white bud that had been
kissed into bloom By the warm rays Of the
sun, and nouIished by the rain and dew
Of heaven.
They had become good friends; he took
her driving occasionally, called on her often,
er, and-well, yes, had firted with her,
TOO, considerably. He admitted that 1t
vas but flirting on his part, but what 1t
meant to her he found out later.
The awakening came one Sunday eve
ming. As usual, he went to call, and
this night the girl came rushing down the
hall TO meet him, a vision Of loveliness in a
fluffy white gown. One Of his roses rested
among her curls, and the rest were tucked
in fragrant mass 10 her belt. She raised
her eyes slowly to his. Aren't you 90
ing to kiss me?'
Dalmaine gasped. Had it gone az lar
az this, then?
But what Is mortal man to do, when
Eve feet four Of charming temlnlnlty
stands before him thus, especially when
she is young and extremely pretty, when
her dark eyes look into his and speak
things unutterable, when her lips are raised
to his in sweet appeal, when her blush
ing face DROPS against his shoulder and
her soft, warm hands steal into his:
Dalmaine was but human, and since that
night everything in his life had been chang
ed. From his easy going bachelor life he
had been plunged into the whirlpool Of
afternoon teas, musicals and balls.
Dalmaine, the club man. was no more.
And one girl had done al This. The more
he thought about it the more convinced he
grew that his marriage must not take place.
Of course she could say she had Tilted him,
or the disparity in their ages-that would
be reason enough. Yes, he must tell her
at once. But could lie bear to see the sad
look of reproach that would come to her
eyes? No He would write his explanation.
How brutal the words looked on paper.
His letter sounded cold and angry. He
was not angry with her, he hated to have
to hurt her so; it was only himself he was
angry. Why should he have been the
man chosen by fate to bring the first sor-
row into this child's life? He addressed
and sealed the letter and handed it to his
man Watson to mail.
The following evening, after day
filled with curious longing and unrest,
be got into his hat and coat, with the i'll
tention Of going to his club, but somehow
he found himself walking in the other
direction. Before he quite realized it,
he was standing on her steps and had rung
the bell, and while he contemplated the
advisability to turn and run, the door OPEN
ed and the girl stood before him. She
drew him gently into the hall. There
was an awkard pause, as he sought yainly
for something to say; then the girl 5 voice,
Low and tender, broke the silence.
"Aren't you going to kiss me?' lie
caught her to him, almost roughly.
''But my letter-didn't you get my
letter. he exclaimed.
No. She had received no letter, in
fact, had neither seen nor heard anything
from him for three whole days. Why
had he stayed away from her 50 long?
He had been i'll, he explained, though
he had the grace to blush as he said it,
and this letter was to tell her that he
would be up that night. Watson must
have forgotten to mail it-very careless of
him. He remembered that Watson had |
been called away hurriedIy by the death
of his father, and in the hustle Of depart
ure had probably forgotten to mail the
letter
Bnt inwardly he thought, dear old
Watson, I'll raise bis pay for that.