Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1918-02-22

~ AZ - 0AL liz 4oL
courteously than any man l ever work
ed for before. He has never called
me by my first name, but always Miss
Trayers, and instead of telling me to
do this and to do that, he always acts
as If he were asking a favor when he
has work for me to do.
HE seems a lonesome sort of man.
I often wonder how he lives and what
he does to enjoy himself-if he ever
does enjoy himself. He is a hard
worker and men admire him. Idon't
known whether he's married or not, but
I don't believe he Is, for no woman
ever comes to see him at the Office.
"But there; you'll know him prob
ably some day. AT least 1 want you
to, when you get ready to go into bust
ness, for there's no man 1 would rath-
er have you take for a pattern than
Mr.. Merton.
"Let me know how you are getting
along, ave what you can, for you will
need a little to go on when you get
through college in June. Write soon.
Lovingly, Alice"
Henry Merton vas not a man to de-
lay matters. With him, a problem no
sooner presented itself than he set
about to solve it, and a decision to
do a certain thing was always fol-
lowed at once with the doing. While
he listened to the click of Miss TRAY
ers' typewriter, which to him was
music for a reason he had not real
lied before, he had reached an impor-
tant decision-the most important of
his life thus far-and he set about
putting it into effect in a way that
was thoroughly characteristic of the
man.
He went into Miss Travers' roo
and seated himself in a chair he al.
ways occupied when debating letters.
He did not as some business men
would have done, call her to his desk
to take notes on a sliding shelf with
no place to rest her arm.
"Miss Travers," he said, and she no.
ticed a queer sound in his voice, twill
you please take a letter for me-a let.
ter to my mother"
"At last" thought Miss Travers, u
am to know something about Mr.. Mer.
ton. I never knew before whether he
had a mother"
you need not mind to take notes.
said Mr.. Merton. "Just take it on the
machine, for I shall not dictate rapid.
ly. Are you ready?"
"Dear Mother: I have been so busy
lately that I have had little time to
write you, and now what I have to say
will surprise you; perhaps pain you
a little at first. Ever since I left
town, you have been the only m
In the world who has really known me,
or anything about me; and now I am
going to get married."
Pardon me-" said Miss Travers,
with a slight blush. She had written
the last word marble" and had stop
ped to erase the last, three letters and
write them over. 1t was an unheard-
of thing for Alice Travers to make a
mistake. With no sign of annoyance
Merton went on:
Though no woman knows me, /
know a woman, and n whom | am
sure you will approve as a daughter.
First of all, she Is a lady. l do not
know her people, but l am sure from
her manner and character that they
must be most admirable persons. i
am not a judge of woman's beauty, but
| do not think you would call her a
pretty girl. She Is something better
than that. There is a womanly dig
nifty and sweetness about her that gives
her a charm far greater than mere
beauty. She is not a girl, really, but
q woman-a gentle, true, sweet wom-
an.
zone thing I know you will like
about her. She has a younger brother
in college, and every month she sends
him a generous part of her earnings,
so that he may educate himself. But
you shall know her soon. AS oon as
we are married you must come and
visit us. There will be no occasion for
you to be jealous, mother. She will
welcome you, I am sure.
"Her name, I have forgotten to tell
you. Her name is Alice Travers,"
Inere was an0tner pause mere; Out
this time Alice Travers did not blush,
but trembled slightly and turned a lit
tie pale. Then Merton went on:
81 have just asked her to be my
wife, and she has answered."
Here Merton rose quietly and stood
beside the he had loved for
weeks, but had not known it. She
sat with fingers posed over the keys,
as If waiting for him to finish the die
tation.
"When you have finished the letter,
Miss Travers," he said, "please bring
1t to me and I will sign It."
The minutes of silence seemed to
Henry Merton like hours, as he watt
ed in the next room for an answer.
Then it came-four sharp clicks on the