The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-11-03
THE FARMER: NOVEMBER 3, 1911

venture together So that's settled, and you needn't jeer at adventure any more. Next I don't think there was anything romantic in Tudor's attempt ing to kiss me nor anything like ad- venture in this absurd duel. But I do think now that it was romantic for you to fall in love with me. And finally, and it is adding romance to TO- nance, think-I think do love you, Dave-oh, Davew
 The last was a signing dove cry as he caught her up in his arms and pressed her to him.
 'But l don't love you because you played the fool today" she whisper ed on his shoulder. White men shouldn't go around killing each oth- er."
 "Then why do you love me?" he questioned, enthralled after the man. ner of all lovers in the everlasting query that forever has remained un- answered.
 'T don't know-just because I do, I guess. And that's all the satisfaction you gave me when we had that man talk. But have been loving you for weeks-during all the time you have been so deliciously and unobtrusively jealous of Tudor"
 "Yes, yes, go on," he urged breath lessly when she paused.
 "I wondered when you'd break out, and because you didn't loved you all the more. You were like dad and Won. You could hold yourself in check. You didn't make a fool of yourself"
 "Not until today" he suggested.
 "Yes, and loved you for that too. It was about time. I began to think you were never going to bring up the subject again. And now that have offered myself you haven't even ac- cepted."
 With both hands on her shoulders he held her at arms length from him and looked long into her eyes, no longer cool, but seemingly pervaded with a golden flush. The lids dropped and yet bravely did not drOop as she re- turned his gaze. Then he fondly and solemnly drew her to him.
 And how about that hearth and saddle of your ownr' he asked a mo ment later.
 "I well nigh won to them. The grass house is my hearth and the Martha my saddle, and-and look at all the trees I've planted, to say noth- Ing of the sweet corn. And it's all your fault anyway. I might never have loved you if you hadn't put the idea into my head"
 There's the Nongasela coming in around the point with her boats out,' . Sheldon remarked irrelevantly. And |. the commissioner is on board. He's going down to San Cristobal to inves- tigate that missionary killing. We're in luck, must say"
 q don't see where the luck comes in," she said dolefully. we ought to have this evening all to ourselves just to talk things over. I've a thousand questions to ask you.
 And 1t wouldn't have been . man talk either," she added.
 "But my plan is better than that. :" He debated with himself moment "You see, the commissioner is the one official in the islands who can give us . license. And-there's the luck of it. Dr. Welshmere is here to perform the ceremony. We'll get married this evening""
 Joan recoiled from him in panic, tearing herself from his arms and go- ing backward several steps. He could see that she was really frightened.
 "I-I thought she stammered.
 Then slowly the change came over her, and the blood flooded into her face in the same amazing blush he had seen once before that day. Her cool, level looking eyes were no longer level looking nor cool, but warmly dropping and just unable to meet his, as she came toward him and nestled in the circle of his arms, saying softly, almost in a whisper:
 "I am ready, Dave"
 THE END.