Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1907-03-21

dream of him-and Of me just 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 ;and before dozen broken
words We're sung Saranne had sunk
to slumber, with smiles on her lips and
Joy in her heart.
! And the whole night through, while
Saranne was calmly sleeping, Little
'Make-Believe lay awake wrestling with
her agony--wrestling with it and striv-
ing to conquer it.
"They mustn't know. they mustn't
as much as suspect" was the re-
frain of her thoughts-"I mustn't let
'em see as I'm not the happieest Of the
happy It'd spoil everything If 1
showed 'em what weight there
was on my heart. Serve yer right,
yer little fool, for daring to think Of
him as anything but friend! With
your ugly face and common ways to go
and love him as you've been doing
but mustn't go on doing, mind! If yer
do, yer false to Saranne, and to be
false to her means that you're the
wickedest wretch as crawls!-to think
of him as you've been doing for ever
so Longevity, you must be stark-star-
ing mad! It's all over now, that's one
good job, and you're wide awake, and
know what's afore you. Oh, my poor
heart-oh, my poor heart"
And so she mourned and grieved and
reproached herself till daylight came
and it was time to rise.
Saranne still slept. Very softly Lit
tie Make-Believe drew away the pillow
upon which her head had been lying;
it was wet with her tears; If Saranne
discovered that she had been crying all
the night she might think that Little
MakeB Believe was envious of her. or
something worse, perhaps.
Not with tears, but with smiles,
must she meet Saranne when she
awoke.
She sat in her night dress by the
at her.
"Wouldn't It be the best thing that
could happen If was to die?"
These words were not only in her
mind; she had spoken them under her
breath, and she clenched her teeth in
scorn of herself as though there lurked
in the words a reasonable wish to-
ward the being who was knit to her
by the closest, the dearest ties.
For the purpose of accentuating this
scorn of herself, and Of Furnishing her.
self for her baseness, she took the
dressing glass from the table and
rested 1t OH her knees rs she took her
place again by her sisters side.
She looked at her own plain face in
the glass and at the lovelness of Sar-
anne's as it lay upon the pillow.
you ugly little scorpion! she whis-
pered to her face in the glass, "who do
yer think'd be fool enough to fall in
love with you?"
This brought the image of Foxey to
her mind, but though he had been fool
enough to fall in love with her, and
fool enough to ask her to marry him,
his image brought no comfort to her;
1t made her shudder at herself.
She shook her head angrily to drive
him from her mind, and sat for half
an hour with the glass before her,
schooling herself for the part she had
to play.
A slight movement from Saranne
warned her; she replaced the glass
quietly on the table and plunged her
face into cold water.
Turning, with the towel in her hand,
she met her sisters opening eyes with
looks of affection and happiness.
How good it is of your murmured
Saranne, rs Little Make-Believe
stopped and kissed her. ITS lucky
sign to wake up and see such bright
and happy face as yours. I've been
dreaming all night of Walter and of
your prince. Yes, indeed 1 have. I
don't care what you say, Make-Be-
lieve. He'll come-you'll see If he
won't"
"And what was my prince like, Sar-
anne? Anything like Walter?"
Something like, but not so hand
some as Walter; you could hardly ex-
pect that!'
II should be foolish to expect it.
There's only one Walter, Saranne."
"Yes," said Saranne, with a happy
sigh, "only one!'
On that day Mr.. Deepdale returned
from London.
He had been absent a week, and
letters had passed daily between him
and Walter.
In Mr.. Deepdale's letters there had
been no cause for uneaslness, and Wal
ter was therefore the more grieved to
perceive that great change had come
over his father during those few days.
1t almost seemed as If in seven days
he had grown seven years older, and it
was evident that there was a weight
on his mind which sorely oppressed
him.
"You don't look well, dad said
Walter.
Don't I, Wally? Perhaps it is be-
cause have been much worried"
II am sorry to hear that"
Don't be anxious about me, my boy;
I shall be better by and by, dare
say. But you, Wally," and he laid his
hands upon Walters shoulders, II don't
think have ever seen you look quite
so well as you do now."
dad, I have something Of the ut
most Importance to say to you."
UAnd I have snmnthinn of tho III.