Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1920-01-02

dear little girl rel though she was
the butterfly type he detested. OF
course, he did not guess that Harriet
had made up the society role to show
him just how impossible ~love-making
with her would be. But despite it all
he proposed to her the day she an
nounced her intention Of leaving for
home.
Il could not think of such a thing"
she answered in dismay. Goodness,
nor.
Melville did not wait to plead his
cause. He went away without saying
a word, leaving Harriet wondering
whether to laugh or cry. She did not
have time to do either. Just a few
minutes remained in which to catch
her train, and she hurried to get
ready.
The train was late, and as Harriet
waited at the station she had an OPP
portunity to think it over. She had
been an idiot to act the way she had,
llC dCAlNCd. NNCA IL AC q pOOA AN
was perfect. What was poverty COM
pared to happiness? She loved him.
Now she knew it, it was too late. Per-
haps it was not too late. Her bag
gage was checked through, but she did
not think of that. She was beside her
aunt's hired mar in the old ram
shackle buggy, and was ordering him
to drive to the farm where Melville
worked, just as the train whistled at
the bend.
HE has gone to the river" the farm
er told her.
The riverl Harriet's head swan.
There was only one thought in her
mind. Melville had gone to end his
life because she had S o cruelty reject
ed him. She seized the lines from the
startled hired man and whipped up the
old horse. The beast responded nobly,
but to Harriet it was a Snails pace.
The river hove in sight. She was out
before they stopped at the bridge, and
hen stopped, painting. On the bank
just a few yards from the road sat
Melville, calmly fishing. Harriet
stopped long enough to get her heart
back to its normal beat and then crept
silently toward him.
Melville was staring out over the
river, a far-away look on his face. The
minute her arms encircled his neck
he knew who it was, and took her in
his arms.
She did not sob until her whole con-
fession of love had been made, but
Melville kissed the tears away. The
sun was slowly sinking, the shadows
were ON the river, it would have made
a splendid ending had not Harriet re-
membered her trunk"
my baggage" she cried. "It has
gone on the train. What will l doT"
"Ill telephone my man in the city
to get it at the station, and bring it
here with the car and we will drive to
the city after it."
"Your man, your carl" Harriet
gasped. do you live in the city?"
81 am president Of the automobile
firm that bears my name" he smiled.
81 am helping out here partly to rest
my nerves, but mainly to do what 1
can to help win the war. My eyesight
won't pass me for the army"
Harriet did not seem to be able to
believe it all, so quickly did every
thing happen. There was such an at
tractive little ivy-clad church in the
village they could not resist it. But
on the way back to the city Mr.. and
Mrs. Melville Reynolds had a chance
to think it over. AS she nestled close
beside her husband on the softly up
holstered seat of the touring car,
Harriet counted the buttons on her
dress idly. "Rich man." she started
on the second round. There remained
one more button. She hesitated to
pronounce the next two words. Her
fingers closed on the button and she
was just going to say poor man"
when the button slipped off into her
hand. She sighed in relief. Melville
smiled knowingly.
"What if it had been poor man,
dear?" he asked.
at would have been all the same"
she answered as she placed he button
in his open hand and let his fingers
close on hers. "Rich man or poor man,
you are my own dear man."