The San Francisco call., 1908-09-06

and play something for her. Usually
this pleased her, but today she seemed
unwilling; said she wished to talk.
there were many things she desired to
tell me if 1 would listen. 1 said 1
would listen very willingly. and, reach
ing out my hand. would she now be-
gin?
Because she has been ever such a
dear little friend this was our GUS
tomary attitude when exchanging con-
fidences. / had reached out my hand
to her many times, and she had never
failed to see and take it; but today 1
held it toward her some moments. and
then let it drop on the bench be-
tween us
She still chose to ignore IT, but I
think something in my face touched
her. for she explained hastily:
What 1 have to tell you 1 would
rather say without holding hands
you will not think it unkind?"
''Unkind? No. You are always kind
to me-"
Was / never anything but kind?"
"Oh. never"
And do you remember once telling
or was it I telling you?-that I
thought a person could be too kind:
that peoples friends think more of
them sometimes for little coldness
or hard treatmentT'
Il think there might, be something
in it. I do not care the most for the
girls who rave about my music and
my chin"
Yes, have observed that spirit of
lngratitude in you-and in all men. I
have made a mistake in treating you
as il you were different from other
men, but hereafter 1 shall not make
that mistake"
I did not answer at once, as / could
not get the drift OF her meaning. Yet
1 felt vaguely that a catastrophe was
impending
And do you remember once telling
me when / have proved myself unkind
to YOU Oswald and old Anne are de-
voteo to you. and you seem to care
more for them than for your other
friends"
You're right. I love them because
they do things for me-"
$50 1 see," cried Mary with her girl
ish laugh. that the only way to get
into your good graces is by kisses and
sugar plums."
1T appeals to mex said rather
childishly.
heart for any one besides Anne and
Oswald?"
At this sudden mention of my heart
1T began to act very strangely. as If
for the first time conscious of itself
and 1 answered with more telling than
l had ever used to the child:
Always room for you. Mary-my
dearest little friend"
But a friend DOESN'T take up. much
room. Don't you ever think of get
ting married?"
mo, never. What makes you ash
that?'
"Just because 1 would like you to be
married. think you would be hap
pier"
Bless your dear. thoughtful little
heart for thinking of me. but could
never marry"
"why?"
.Warum? Why? why?-do you re-
member as child asking me why
could not see? And 1 in turn was
asking an older and a wiser being.
nine and the eternal question have
ceased to trouble me-
But she might love you
She who-who-"
why, 1 do not know-some woman
any woman-might love you. II you
knew this would you not want to marry
her?'
replied honestly. Mary. tell you
1 would not. You were right in your
former diagnosis of my character ]
am like other men-not likely to love
a woman merely because she might
love me. 1 am Nery we'll satisfied
nowI could not have you for my
friend if 1 were married"
Perhaps you cannot always any
way
Why. why, Mary, what are you say
ing?"
.oh, friends, of course, Wen always
be friends. but after am married we
.-..