Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1908-03-27


'rt's all right, no doubt, Mrs. Mar
tin," no said. He took up the card
again. II haven't the least idea WIKI
he a."
That's the fun of 1t, Wilby," criet
Lorna. ~"And-don't stop to listen, Mrs
Martin, there's an old dear"
The h~ousekeeper's head seemed t.
charge her with all manner OF crimes
1t tossed deliberately two or three times
ere she was out Of the room. She dis
approved Of the "Wilby.' As for the
"old dear it was nothing less thar IN
insult from such a pert pair of lips.
Now, them" said Lorna, "you are to
eat your breakfast just as usual. Your
letters may wait, Wildly. I'm going To
tell you about 1t while you eat Come
sit down."
Wilberforce sat down. He felt alb
surd, but tried to dlssemble his feel.
ings with a laugh.
You are a strange child" he said
II am she said positively. And
shall give you more sugar than usual
In your first cup to help you not to
mind what / am. There! Now start on
your porridge. It's my confession that's
coming"
"Ah!"
Spoon in hand, the doctor darted an
other look at the card.
about thatY" he asked.
Eyes, dear. l met him On the boat.
Murray Plains is his fathers place.
They've ems of thousands of stock and
are awful rich. But 1t isn't because
he's so well Off that I love him. It's
because I can't do anything else. I
thought SO during the voyage, but
wouldn't tell him SO, quite, you know.
1t doesn't do to give one self all away
In a month, does 1t, Wildly? He wanted
to coIne right along here and see you
about me the very first thing, but I
wouldn't let him. ! wanted to wrestie
1t out with myself, you know, and de-
eide. ] did the deciding last week.
He's written four times. He said I'm
the last but one he'd turn up to-day,
certain, whether 1 liked his coming or
not. That's why ! put OF telling you
till to-day. II he hadn't come I don't
know what I'd have done. But here
he is. He left London before six-the
very earliest train, you know. And
oh! Wildly, dear, do-do be nice to him,
will you? This is his photograph"
He took the photograph and could
find no fault with it, even If he had
felt disposed to be bitter. So far from
this, however-lt was an extraordinary
thing, yet true-he felt relieved, and
more prone to smile.
His Eyes are the bluest you eve
saw, Wildly. dear!" she declared.
Wherefore quite smiled now.
And I should judge he knows how
to use them, you little diplomatIst. !" he
said.
Little whatw
"Diplomatist. But tell me some more
about him, before | fetch him in to
breakfast"
She on him like a hawk.
.Oh. Wildly, you old darling!" she
cried. but / knew you would knew
it! His father is Sir Ralph Blackstone,
and Is ever SO much respected. While
is his only ION; but 1t would be just
the same whatever he was. / do love
him truly
Yes" said the doctor, II see you do.
Well, IL you'll quit rumping my hair,
III go to him. lists very comfort
ing to me to think you may be. event
ually, So well provided for"
rs 1t, indeed?"
Il assure you 1t Isl he said. "Honor
bright, Lorna!"
He waved his hand to her and left
the room, and In rather less than Eve
minutes someone tapped difidently at
the door, and in came the original of
the photograph. what luck! !" he whis-
pered, and then they were in each
others arms.
As for Wllberforce, he sat quiet for
a minute, then rang the surgery bell
and spoke a few enlightening words to
Mrs. Martin. They had a remarkable
effect upon that good lady. we'll
never !" she exclaimed, and she looked
as happy, almost, though in a different
way. as Lorna herself.
And then a real patient came, and
the doctor decided to see her at once
md not trouble about his breakfast.
Another patient followed the first, and
vet another. 1t was half an hour before
he could return to the breakfast-room.
But the lovers were not among the
coffee cups. From the window WILDER
force saw them pacing the lawn, arm
In arm, absorbed in themselves.
What a narrow escaped" he said,
with the smile Of a nan who had well
disciplined himself to find his content
ment in the happiness of others.-Black
and White.
Lincoln,s Rules.
On one occasion President Lincoln, on
entering the telegraph Office Of the War
writes Mr.. Bates in Lin