The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1925-11-13

"You are passing up as decent a
chap as ever lived" Jack told her, ION
a chance Of Spool, and you don't know
that he even cares for you. Perhaps
Spoofs affections are already fixed.
Have you thought of that?"
Thought of It'll I've lain awake
nights, with burning eyes, and thought
of it. But what can l do? can't ask
him."
"You could marry Frank. like a
sensible girl"
Il only wish I could. But 1t is out
of the question"
| And with that the matter had to
stand. Jean doubled her energies In
helping Marjorie prepare for the great
event, and while she tried always to
| greet me with smile more than once
surprised tear stealing unbidden
down her cheek. I reflected that If
l was suffering, Jean was suffering,
too, but there was no comfort ia that
| l didn't want Jean to suffer. And
why she should wiring her heart over
me, and yet refuse to marry me, was a
twist in her nature beyond my power
Of comprehension.
Spool took the news with genuine
or well-feigned surprise. We merely
explained that the wedding was not to
be double one after all that Jean
and l had reconsidered matters, but
Jack and Marjorie would be mar
ried as arranged.
Il say, I'm sorry to hear that
mean about you and Jean. 1 presume
| it is only postpOnement" But we
| gave him no answer to that question
and Spool of course did not press it,
Christmas day dawned bright and
cold, with a whip of northwest wind
and skiff of loose snow sitting across
the frozen prairies. 1 found myself
lying awake in the morning, thinking
of Jean, and Of all had hoped that
day would mean to me. This was the
dream that was gone; the picture
had had to tear out Of my heart, only
it would not stay gone; it plagued me
in my sleep, it haunted me in every
silent moment of the day. That Jean
should be so strong, so SET so immOv-
able, and, as it seemed to me, so I'M
reasonable, in spite of all her delicate
usefulness and strange uncommon
ness of spirit-that was a side of
jeans character which all the years
of our childhood and youth had not re-
vealed to me. / had not re-
opened my suit. 1 had accepted her
decision. But the old picture would
come back, and this Christmas morn
ing as it swan before my eyes 1t
stirred within me an Unreasonable
poignancy of spirit.
Merry Christmas shouted Mar
jorie, pOkfng her head into my room.
Marjorie was going through time of
strangely mixed emotions. Her heart
was light on her own account and
heavy on mine, and in these days she
found the bridge between laughter and
tears an extremely narrow one. Per-
haps it was for that reason that her
shout Of Merry Christmasp' ended in
something like sob, and, with little
rush, she plunged onto my bed and
threw her arrhs about me; she wrapped
them around my neck and shoulders
and drew my face to hers. And as her
cheek lay against mine little warm
trickle of moisture wendell its way
down, upon. and across my lips, and l
felt her frame tremble as it rested
near me.
"Not crying, Marjorie; not crying, on
this of all mornings" exclaimed, al
though my own throat was full. mot
crying, dear-on my account?"
To that question she snuggled closer,
and after little / heard her whis-
pering in my ear. at will come all
right in time. brother mine," she said;
sail right in time. 1 can't Think
can't believe-anything else. Don't
you feel-dOnt you knOw-that 1t
will?" And so to soothe her, and that
her greatest day might not be spoiled,
/ said knew it would come all right
in time, but there was a stone between
my lungs and band Of iron about my
chest.
Marjorie kissed me on the lips, then
raised her face and dried her eyes
Suddenly she sprang to her feet, and
1 could not but admit how very good
she was to look upon. Her dark hair
hung loose about her shoulders; she
allowed herself no curl-paper nom
sense, and indeed no device could have
added to the beauty Of her waving
locks. She was still in her nightdress,
although she had drawn on something
warm about her feet, and, like the
good wife she was always to be, she
had started the fire-a duty which 1
admitted properly fell to the man of
the house. Perhaps 1t is because a
man should start the fire that he so
greatly enjoys having his wife do it.
could hear the poplar sticks cracking
as 1 lay watching her through moist
and dreamy eyes. She was good to
look upon; so different from Jean, but
still so good!
Hustle up, Frank" she cried, with
sudden return to her normal man
ner "We have lot to do today
1t was not until after our midday
meal that 1 went over to Twenty-Five.
Jean was in her room, but 1 mustered
the spirit to chaff Jack with such a
mingling Of good wishes and humorous
sallies as my brain could command,
and we finished the whole with an i'm
promptu sparring match in the middle
of the kitchen floor.
"Watch your beak!'' 1 commanded,
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