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JUDGMENT AGAINST LOVE
Unconsciously, through the winter, Mittie found herself counting the days
when Hollis’ year of probation would expire. At last came a letter which
said: “My year of probation will be over Friday, and I have kept my vow.
On Saturday, the earliest possible moment that I can leave my patients with
a reliable supply, I will come to you, my love.”
“He will reach here on the ten o’clock train that night,” Mittie told Mrs.
Willis. “Do you think it would be bold or immodest for me to be at the
station when the train comes in?”
“No, dear. Not with a proper escort, and Prof. Blanton and I will go with
you. It will be a delightful walk home in the moonlight. We will give your
doctor a pleasant surprise.”
Mittie and her two friends stood in the shadow of the depot, on the plat
form, near where the train would stop. It was on time, and when it stopped,
several men came out of the smoker, laughing and talking loudly.
“Say, old man, if your girl saw you now, she’d raise Cain! Better get a
carriage and go to roost before some tattler spies you.”
“You bet I will, old boy! Hie! Glad I met you, my old pals, but sorry, too*
Ha! ha! ha.”
It was Hollis Deering, her king among men, drunk as a lord! Mittie
shrank back into the deeper shadow, and Deering found the livery hack to
take him to a hotel without seeing three shocked faces.
“Who were those with him?” whispered Mittie.
“Some old army chums, who persuaded him, beyond his strength,” replied
Evon 'Blanton, sadly.
Mittie sobbed herself to sleep that night in Mrs. Willis’ motherly arms.
There was no consolation to be offered, no hope the elder woman could hold
out, no advice she could give, as she knew Mittie’s mind was fully made up.
There was an interview next morning, and Dr. Deering was penitent, re
morseful, and willing to make any promise for the future that would satisfy
Mittie, except to take a life-long pledge of total abstinence, which the girl in
sisted was his only safety.
“Give me six months to prove I am able to reform, Mittie?” the lover plead
ed. “A year is an eternity with you, and our little home nest is finished!”
“I think it best to wait another year to prove your strength, Hollis,” Mittie
replied gently, but decidedly, and nothing could change her decision.
Dr. Deering returned to his home in the city, angry and disappointed.
For several weeks he persecuted Mittie with upbraidings, which cut her to the
heart, and then for a month his letters ceased.
On the 20th of May, a holiday for the school, Evon Blanton received
the following telegram:
“Congratulate me. I was married last evening to Miss Sadie Walton
“Hollis Deering.”
The young professor carried the message to Mrs. Willis, and they consult
ed as to breaking the news to Mittie.
“You must tell her, Mrs. Willis,” said the young man; “I cannot bear to
see her suffering any humiliation. But it would be cruel to let the news come
to her from thoughtless jesters. You come nearer filling the place of a moth
er, and are the one to let her know.”
“I will tell her as gently as possible. Who is this Sadie Walton, Dr. Deer
ing has married?”
“A frivolous society girl, with whom he has been thrown recently. I
fear marrying her will bring him no help or happiness, Mrs. Willis. I dread
the effect of this blow on Mittie. She loved Dr. Deering devotedly, and she
is not strong. I would give anything to avert this sorrow.”
“I know you would, dear boy,” Mrs Willis said, with tender sympathy.
She had long ago divined Evon Blanton’s secret. “But Mittie has a strong
soul, and she is a Christian. I think she will be able to bear it.”
She was able to bear it. She sank under the blow at first, but she
quickly rallied, and insisted on going back to her work. She had the comfort
of friendship and the solace of her sister’s love. She entered upon some
new plans in her school work, and carried them out with enthusiasm and suc
cess. Gradually the roses bloomed again in her cheeks. She realized that
life arid happiness were not ended for her, nor were the tender love instincts
of her heart blighted hopelessly by the sorrowful disappointment.
When the last roses of summer were blooming, Evon Blanton found cour
age to tell her that he had loved her from the first time she bent over the
bed where he lay helpless with fever, and looked at him with gentle, pitying
eyes. She became his wife, and in time the two became the heads of the
prosperous college. She never saw Dr. Deering again. There were rumors
of his domestic unhappiness, and of a probable separation, then came the
news that he had been crushed and killed under his automobile. While intoxi
cated, he had run the car over a steep embankment and met instant death.
MISS CRANE’S CHANCE.
(Continued from Page 5.)
“No, Aunt Caro, no!” Nell exclaimed
as she threw out her hand in protest.
“I do not want it, and I do not need
it, as an attestation of your love.
The responsibility of all that money
would be like a millstone around my
neck. The young need incentives to
do their best, and I do not think that I
could do mine, easily, if I had a half
million to balance.”
“Well, I’ll think the matter over/’
Miss Crane said quietly, “and then I’ll
have a talk with Wayland Hamilton
and Gertrude, before I come to a final
decision. Meantime, w r e have enough
to keep us busy. We ought to finish
moving everything from the old home
this week, because I want to go to
the city at least by next Tuesday.”
At that moment there was a knock
on the half-open door, and the Butler
appeared on the threshold, and an
nounced that some one was calling on
the Library ’phone, for the younger
Miss Crane.
Nell went down, and when she came
back after a short time, her aunt look-
Hi S HR S Bi Bi Bi Bi S Bi S
ed from her embroidery curiously.
“Who was it, Nell?”
“Mr. Wayland Hamilton,” the girl
announced quietly.
“And what did he want?”
“That I should be one of an auto
mobile party tonight.”
“Did you consent to go?”
“I had no choice,” he girl replied
in a reserved tone, “he is your friend
and the family counselor.”
“What do you think of him?”
“I haven’t thought,” Nell replied,
standing still by the mantel with a
shadow of gloom in her blue-grey eyes,
her hands interlaced behind her back.
Then, seeming to remember that her
aunt might think her ungracious, she
added, “I suppose I might safely as
sert, that if I had thought about Mr.
Hamilton at all, I should say from the
brief glimpses I have had of him, that
he is cultured —and interesting.” She
paused and then added, “to most peo
ple,” “why not to you?” Miss Crane
asked with a look of surprise.
But Nell shook her head, “I am not
in the confessional,” she returned
gently, “Aunt Caro, tonight.”
(To be continued.)
The Golden Age for December 12, 1912.
Get
yJ
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