The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1916-05-04


you. l am going into the house to ask
your father and mother to let me
marry you"
Phil"
Il can't go home without knowing
something certain. Come"
As the two young people entered the
sitting room Marjorie's father and
mother stared at them in astonish-
ment The girl, cold and wind blown,
slipped into a chair. Phil walked up to
the table.
"Sit down, won't your" asked Mr..
Brant, hesitating. as he looked at the
young mans stern face.
NO." said Phil, I'm stand. Mar
jorie and l were going to run away"
Run away" exclaimed Mrs. Brant
and her husbands fist came down on
the table heavily. But as Phil told of
his love, the older man gazed at him
intently. visions of his own youth and
courtship stirring him deeply. When
Phil had finished he said:
Il understand that If it had not been
windy tonight and Marjorie had not
thought it was wrong you would have
run away?"
II think So
And what them"
The young mans gaze met that OF
the older mans squarely.
Il should have taken care of her
and kept her safe. | love her"
He was very earnest. The father
seemed stirred by his uprightness and
he turned to his wife. Well
mother?"
1T is out of the question" she
fiared. Marjorie is only twenty.
shall not let her get married for eight
years.
"Oh, mother!"
Yes, and by then, Marjorie, you
will know your own mind"
Il do know it, pleaded the girl
"You were married when you were
twenty"
Yes; but was older. You are only
a child. Now you run up to YOU
room"
With a despairing glance at Phil
who stood looking stern and deter
mined, she left the room Her moth
er turned to the young man.
Il thought when l consented to the
engagement that you would be salts
fed. Now you are trying to coax the
child to run away
Il might have taken her" was Phil's
answer.
The father, noting the set mouth OF
the young man, perceived the neces
sity of compromise.
Perhaps we had better talk it over
mother he said.
No. was the firm response. &
shall not let Marjorie marry until she
is twenty-eight. That is young
enough"
But we were married when we
were young and have been happy"
What we did has nothing to de
with Marjorie. 1t is no good your ia
king their part; ! shall not give my
consent"
Her husband saw that it was use
less to argue, and held out his hant
to Phil
Il guess we shall have to do wha
| mother thinks best. After all, she il
right
He accompanied Phil to the door
| The wind had abated and through tht
curry of clouds the moon shon'
brightly. The young man stood look
ing at II for a moment then stiffiy said
"Good-by," and went down the path
The horses hoofs had died away IL
the distance when the father returned
to the sitting room.
AS Phil drove slowly homeward, ht
moodily gazed out upon the night
The vagrant wind caressed his cheel
[ and the salt air filed his nostrils. The
little white spire of the church in viii
low Point silently beckoned to him IL
the moonlight.
Suddenly his horse reared and cams
to a sudden stop.
"Marjorie!" he exclaimed as the
girl stepped to the side of the car
rage.
She laughed nervously, as sh,
climbed in beside him,
Quick" she urged. Here Ia my
bag. They are arguing in the sitting
room. took the short cut across the
lots. They will not discover that
am gone for awhile, and, oh, Phil,
climbed down the grape arbor!"
He urged the horse to a run with
one hand while with the other he
tucked the blanket around her.
Il can't believe it," he said as she
nestled close to him. Il can't believe
that you are really here"
WELL" said the girl, father was al
most ready to give in and mother will
soon make up, she always does, and
wasn't going to wait until | was TWEEN
ty-eight to get married, Philosophical
ly after | looked out of my window
and saw that glorious moon-our