The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 19, 1903, Page 5

THE SUNDAY CALL. - /) ’( el o o S - T the top of Kynaston Hill I jumped off #nd walked my bicycle slowly along the footpath. I hear” the “ting” of a bicycle bel', and & girl's figure rose to view on the summit ageainst the clear morning sky. Heavens! She was never go- ing to ride down Kynaston Hill in this mud! “Get off’”" 1 yelled, “the road is like a pond.” The girl glanced at me for an instant, then at the long »f 10ad falling away before her, smiled, put her feet on the rests and coasted. Her bicycle skidded, just as I expected, and 1 hurried ad to find her sitting in the mud, looking at her machine with a sweep 3 herself up without my assistarnice, while the pink of her cheeks " at the tep of the hill,” I sald, stopping to , which was the only part I could see unspotted * ghe said. *‘Nobody with any scnse ever reproach would be unwise. anxiously up the hill. ment chilled me for a moment. stant! The bicycle is quite clean now— wn the rest of the hill.” “I will wheel your bicycle. it 1w 1 turned to hide a smiie very much wiser w me." . She looked at me for an ant before replying, but after a short scrutiny nk you very m She was about 18 pretty. 1 felt at all costs I must know more " t down and waited for him?” I-asked gently. eves full of alarm 5. no! Why, I should have to go straight k. As she did so 1 stooped, with the pretense bicycle, and drove a pin right through aid gravely. The look of despair in or the deed T had done. “Perha u have, though?” hoping she would never sce the contents of tears, and I felt that I had behaved like a beastly ess you tel] me all about it, I don’t see how I can with his dogcart, and if he catches me su: and talk it over t it be a good plan to begin sat down on the extreme edge of the log, and she said, “and I live at the White House at me,” 1 murmured politely. “Why did you run SOT 1 came away she said in a very low narried to a—a—beast. He is coming to-da 1 e up my i that when he came 1 wouldn't . 1 I don't quite understand. Why, if the s s got to marry h In what way is he a beast? the ground with her smali leather toe patent iid quickly d to him = m because Beiy 5 & his George ihiuks they ought 19 be joii rmured e seems a suitab’e arrangement.” & ske s nly left school six weeks ago. and 1w ave some f married should lixe to have some s pe And David K ston is awfully old—even T se perhaps he is not so aneient after all.” | sug- } wiy, “vou might maks e k might repent of the ar- ¥ I am not going p . said 1 lurrie Un . share of the baig Now must eariy she szid: “snd 1 have got this v hed machine t be m Oh, what does it have a i . da pened § 1 & a G to get some lunck b th n her gray eyes filled should rather think y be only if 1 ha machy i taken his : selves one agajnet another in a reckl-ss HOSE going from Ma- desire 10 become Alps as soon as possible con to Geneva may &nd the Albarine was running from one take either of two -" the track to the other, as f 'n "7 all its previous course of existence it had routes, the one bY never seen a railway train before Nantua and the other Suddenly they were swallowed up ‘n a by Both tunnel and the girl gave a qu siartied are 0 harming and - €Y 80 plcturesaue that the 1S very short,” he said, polite choice between them is She did not answer. metimes nearly heartrending Iheysme GBI L0 Th ekt afaiN gud , stopped a Artmore, e let wn the was on a o ight, lat - i cold, bright, late autumn and leaned out—that being the November that a pretty girl, ap- recreation of the Continenial parently an American, started to get into The village was overflowing the Bellegarde train. Waiting, as if to soldfers, cockades, bands and wine er the Spme compartinent. #i6od A A8 t's the day of thq lot drawing for the ed with valises. Perhaps it was Army.”" he sald, as Be drew in his head . ' was &n American that 04 raised the sash again. His tone was " i p ted in the extreme t b Sl e hejpleny SIS N at's Mont Colombier on your P er-like steps he immediate- g, be Sdhed ised her rong hand and r ne looked at Mont Colombier and rald with a chill haughtiness, ‘“Thank you :s because she was not The valley of the Albarine was begy what he was that—barely DNiDg to merge into the grander val! of bending her head in acknowledgment of 'he Rhome, the latter river sweening the courtesy—she stepped swiftly over the Droadly beside the raflway, while the ‘ Scated hereelf m the farther AlPS. increasing with each nearer view, turned a steadfast gaze far io0med heavily above. “The finer v marked kindly. head. “I'll sit on that side if 1 ever return this wa; she murmured. The train stopped at Culoz and he left the car and smoked a cigarette on the platform of the gare. When he climbed in again she glanced at him about half way to his knees, and he felt he had made some progress. “The next is Seyssel,” he announced is on this side,” he re- £he did not turn her He scized the strap and swung himself upward after her; then banged the door and jerked up the window. The latter and cre it was mly n had left the station fast As he seated himself he threw a quick glance at his companion. She was a pret- ty girl with blue eyes, a 1ovable nose, a kissable mouth and an frreproachable traveling outfit. A loock of amusement crossed his face as he noted the frigidity cheerfully, “the haif on the opposite bank of her bearing, for he knew enough of is in Savoy.” human nature 1o be quite positive that ‘‘How iInteresting!” she commented she was thinking of him. Her rigid in- terest in the scenery on her own side as- sured him of that fact. He unhooked the indjcateur and studied it carefully, and when he stood up to throw it on the bupdle rack he felt that her eyes had been turned his way, so he sat down again, foided his arms and waited for time to pass a little. The possibilities of French trains are great. Those without tempers gain them, those with tempers lose them—in both cases, one speaks. She appeared unaltersbly fixed in her determination, but nevertheless he wait- ed quietly, hopefully. Each looked out of their own window. The Jura Mountains were massing them- coolly, and turned to the French half. Another tunnel. “Our lamps seems to have been forgot- ten.” (His volce.) “Evidently.” (Her voice.) He knew from the sound that she had turned toward him to speak. Then they came Into the daylight once more and rolled swiftly above the Vezer- once. ““We really ought to have a lamp,” he said anxiously, “the tunnels are many between here and Bellegarde.” She looked at him furtively, and he caught her eye and smiled openly. “Don’t be frightened, though,” he sald, with ready reassurance, “I'm married.” key east! | wish some one hirg evidently s som¢ asked In dismay with the and deliv St.nd vered slow's benefit, T to play.” look ai it in a game “You dou B TeynwEBDvhoy £ lines curving and i, s. ‘w They crept her betwean ne too,” she responded. t to one by was flushing u kno he said, fairly frightened at when 1 got vour lofty bearinz “Were you?' she sald. wanted to frighten you. is the proper feeling for inspirs when they find with a man. e you often successf bit her lin, then: she answered, franklv. took nd in his. e he said earnes ever successful?"’ She hesitated, and her hesitation was suddenly swallowed in another roar of en- gulfing blackness. “Go on,” he whispered. (Whispers rush in where angels fear to tread.) “Well,” she replied slowly, “on to-day—only once, mind you through a tunnel with a man—" She stopped. “Oh, the unfeeling brute!"” he cried im- petuously. The train once more. s my hat on straight?’ she asked de- murely. “Yes, it's straight,” he said, “but it's meant to go a little tippy, isn't it? “Hand me the mirror out of your va< lise,”” she sald, “I think I'd better See for myself.” . He stood up and proceeded to seek the article demanded. “I suppose 1 may as well haul them them down. We gct off at Bellegarde, ou know.” Yes,” she replied, “and 1 do hope, dear, that I never in all my life shall be so mad again as I was at you when I got on this tral He kissed her, laughing. “You were mad,” he said, ‘‘you were just awfully mad. 1 wondered if you'd ever speak to me again.” “I don’t care,” she said, smiling and pouting at once, “I wanted to go by Nan- tua and you Knew it."” “How nice! 1 I've read that lad 10 o'y to themselves alone 117" he queried. or “were you e before went came forth to the sunlight (Copyright, 1803, by T. C, McClure.) flashed into her mind, “1 think ybbery, with possible proper Hght.” «Mone oR'S30m " LarFgl” | SAID STERNLY. and he found the notes and is going to take them vack to the bank to-day. wounid stop the tran and rob him. Ah!" she “what a glorious idea! Why Warner of her idea. hat sort of thing. Oh. can't you see I see. You want me to play the high- violence on the highroad, is said letitia, quickly. "“Remember, EWAY TO [JELLCARDE TTQ’fiE GIRL | JEFT PEHIND ME AMAY the money is mine! It isn't robbery, it is—it is—'"" Then with a sudden laspl- ration, “It is knight-errantry.” “The law wouldn't call it knight-errantry,” I remarked, gloomily. “Look here,” she cried, opening her saddle-bag with trembling fingers, “I will lend you my revolver,” producing a thing about four inches long, mounted with silver. it loaded?” I asked. Her face fell. “I'm afrald it isn't,” she said, “but that doesn’t matter In the least. Uncle George is frightened to death of firearms\’ My spirits sank lower and lower. Letitla was very pretty, and I was afraid that a direct refusal to carry out her pian might annoy her. ‘“What about disgul I asked. Bhe considered for a minute—then brightened. “I have got my waterproof cape,” she said, “and you have got yours. Put yours over your head—it will rest on your nose and ears if you are careful, and you can tie mine around your walst. Then if you pull your cap well ov your eyes nobody can possibly recognize you. 1 sincerely shoped they wouldn't, as she suited her action to her words, ap- parently with the greatest enjoyment. However, it was too late for regrets now. Letitia scrambled through a gap in the hedge, and with beating heart I waited by the roadside, Suddenly the wretched dogcart appeared on the top of the hill, horror of horrors!—two men on the front seat. 1 could hear Letitla’s stified .giggies from the gap in the hedge. I flung a hurried reproach at the cerner of the white sailor hat which appeared in the opening. You didn't say your uncle would bring a man “It's only William,” she answered. *He's better than nobody, because he'll be so terrified that he'll frighten uncle into fits. 1 walted till the white mare was less than five paces from me, then set my teeth, and strode bravely into the middie of the road flourishing Letitia's ridic- ulous toy of a revolver. E “Your money or your life!” I said sternly. Letitia was right. The “firearm,” did the work. The white mare was s by a frenzied jerk of the reins. The gallant William, huddied jnto the ¢ the seat. Uncle Georges was pasty-faced, stout and spectacied. “W—w—what the deuce d'ye want?’ he cried at last, in a voice shaken to a delicate tremolo. “Fifty dollars?” sald I, sepulchrally, gaining fresh courage from the helpless terror of these two brave men. This was too much. For an instant Uncle George forgot to be frigh raised his whip threateningly. “You—you—scoundrel,” he crie see you hanged before I give you a penny. William, you fool, whip the mare!” But William did not move. Uncle George seized the reins, and 1 saw that now was the moment to be firm. Eesides, for the first time I began to enter into the true spirit of the game. £ Accordingly I strode forward, with flapping wings of mackintosh, to the tall- board of the dogcart, nourished the revolver within one inch of William's head. “Fitty dollars,” said I, “or I fire!" Uncle George wanted no more persuasion. He drew a crackling roll of notes from his pocketbook and handed them to me without another word, then tore the whip from Willlam's shaking hand. A frantic cut on the sleek whiteness of the plump mare, a frightened p forward of that astonished beast, an ill-suppressed laugh from Letitia, an was left standing in the middle of Kynaston road with a bundle of bank notes. A volce from the hedge recalled myscattered wits with a rush. “You'd better take those things off before any one else comes along,” sald Letitia. 1 telt very cross and began to drag the wretched things over my head with- out speaking. “You did it splendldly,” went on Letitia iaughter and sat down on the fallen tree again to recover herself. These compliments did not tend to improve my temper. 1 handed her the roll of notes without a word. She took them with evident pleasure and counted them over., 'He has only given you thirty,” sk ing. Won't I have a good time now But at last it began to dawn upon her that I was really annoyed. She put her hand on my arm and looked up at my displeased face with such a charming air of contrition that my anger melted away like the morning dew “Don’t be cross,” she said. “‘You were an angel to do it—you can imagine how grateful I am. “No,” said I, smiling at last, “I certainly can’t. You don't accept it in at all the proper spirit.” Letitia laughed again. “I think it is time 1 was on my way to Kynaston, cultivate a proper spirit as we go along.” We reached the village all too soun tent village policemen, evidently seut ognize the terribe highwayman in a your we had the puncture mended. It was while we were waiting for it that Letitia proposed tbat I should ride with her to Mornington and it was then that 1 began to realize what a reaily de- lightful girl she was. 1 wished the,day would last forever. But it didn’t, and when we stopped for tca at a wayside cottage under a green with—oh, pped orner of ed, and She was almost speechless with said, it even that's better than noth- she sald. “T will try to f the incompe= ey di t rece suit. All'in good time eting on the way Uncie George. Nat & man in a picyel trellis awning the sign post at the gate cried out in unkind black letters that Mornington was only eight miles farther on We came to Aunt Margaret's house even sooner than I had bargained for. 1chine and hefd out her hand as I came to her side. d I'm not a bit tired—but mped off her od- she said, “it has been a glorious day, av all over now." This one is over, certainly,” I said; “but—there may be others.” eiitia snuok her head. She seemed to have grown olderand more sedate since ink. But perhaps she was only tired. e said siowly, “1 don't think there mu I wasystill holding her hand, but she did not seem to notice it nk you do understand.” she cried.suddenly gaining courage and ralsing nd 1 don’t think it is very kind of you to make me tell you. It is be- cause | am engaged to be married to David Kynaston, and because I like you too much already.” “] em glad you have been frank with me,” I =ald, still holding her hand, “be- caure now 1 shall not be afraid to tell you my name. Tetitia stared in amazement. “Why should you be afraid to tell me your name?" I spoke very slowly to give my words the more effect—'because, it's he any others.” to you it is the name of a beast. My name Is David Kypaston, and I to be married to you.” Thi all very well, but the really unpleasant part of the business was afterward, when Letitia insisted upon my making a clean breast of the whole at- fair to Uncle Ge By Joun Privcs/ two families had Leen close ¢ tor m As the had been Holyoke to y yea schoo girls, mo hers at Mt Amber: graduated in same class, Holyoke and Amherst are not far spart, geographically, and on ks ubout the Connecticut Valley the a fallen Into compa Afterwara had Leen two weddings, and the two w homes were establihed in the Western city. The heads of the fami went Into law praciice together, and the firm has lasted day—more than twenty-five vear When the children were quite natural that the b been named arthur en Hamilton, after his father's partner, and the girl Angeia Hamilton Selden. afier her moth- er's schoolgirl friend and companion. Ar- thur w. almost year ol than An- gela, and a year s a iong time in the lives of youngsters. When, after their high school days, it was decided that both should go to col- lege, they left home on the same day in charge of Angela’s mother and Arihur's father ard journeyed eastward to the Cennecticut Valley. Afterward Arthur went vear's study and Angela went born it was should have abroad for a to visit some friends at an army post further ‘West. When Arthur came home and found, instead of the schoolgirl he had known, a beautiful young woman, he was scarcely prepared for the change. It was all foreordalned. While he had seen pretlty women abroad, and at Amherst had almost proposed to a girl at com- mencement time, he had been practically heart-free. . This vision of loveliness who kisged him frankly as a sister might took his breath away. When he left the Se'den home that night it was with the intention of winning Angela Selden. All that winter he saw much of her. At the parties they attended, at the theater, or wherever he could make an excuse to meet her, he was her devoted cavalier. In both the families it was regarded as a foregone conclusion that there would be another marriage to link the two families yét closer together. One evening Arthur called at the Sel- dens determined to ask Angela to be his. “She must know.” he theught, * but he told Fer he was quite well and much [ love her. If she will have me that he proposed to go more into society I'll take the governor's offer and go than he had ever done before. into the busines: with him right away. “What's going on to-night?” he asked. Arthur climbed the steps which led up There isn’t anything,"” gaid Mrs. Ham- to the Seldens’ veranda. On the veranda ilton. There's nothing going on this sat Angela and a man In uniform week, and at the theater there's nothing “Mr. Hamilton,” said 2 “let me Wworth secing except * 1 t Be- friend, L Allerton.” hind M= ok hands. Arthur said some- let’s go to that.” said Arthur. about being glad to see Lieutenant ‘When theytock their se thir s in the theater Alierton. Lieutenant Allerton said some- the orchestra pegan piaying the stirring thing about being charmed to meet Mr. ©ld ture from which the piay was named. Hamiiton. Arthur turned in his seat and looked There was some music, and Allerton 400Ut the auditori Two rows behind sang. He sang well, and Augela accom- MM sit Afigela and her ‘ather. Their panied him as only a sympathetic musi- BT o ot ey cian can. Afthur felt a lover's jealousy A him to ccme back and speak to her speak to his mother. morning Arthur bowed stiffly and turned to “Why cauldn’t he have stayed away till to-morrow?”" he thought. When Allerton rose to go he said, “Then mother and I may expect to meet you on The next came a note from m ang L mex o bly arrange it,” ra Tuesday In Chicago? the nots, “I wish you'd come up and have “Yes," replied Angela, “and tell YOUT ton with me to-ay:" mother that I shall give her a great deal of trouble before me reach Leavenworth, Sne care tuiy ih - s for T am going to make her tell me every- o tstretened. — ¢ oo™ With both hands thing about her hoys at the fort. You i wiiltr o0 catd know 1 fell desperately in love With eVerY .\yhat a Lad boy you've been not to write soldier there last summer.” 3 It was almest-a command. Arthur went. to me! Arthur stayed for a few minutes after Then she looked at his face squarely in Allerton had gone. the lizht. re you going away?” he asked in dis- Why, Arthur Hamilton!" the matter? en a ghost.” he said. “I've only seen ‘The Girl 1 Left Behind Me.' " “What do vou mean?" “Nothing. only it seems that that is just what 1 am seeing now,”.and Arthur gazed into her eves. “Do you mean that you heard of my engagement, and that—=" Angela stopped and blushed. “Yes. ] mean exactly tuat, and T hope you will be very happy, and that Mrs. Al- she cried. You look as though es,” she replied. “Mrs. Allerton has 1 me to visit her for a month at Leavenworth. The colonel is the dearest old man that ever lived, and—isn’t Charlie jugt the handsomest boy ycu ever saw?” Arthur said good-by hurriedly and walked 1niles into the country smoking strong cigars. The next day he received a little good- by note from Angela, saying that her father wanted her to go on to Chicago for a day or two with him, and as he had been called away suddenly she had gone. Theé note continued: But , before October came Arthur's father told him that he had good reason for thinking from something Mr. Selden had said at the office that Angela was en- guged to Lieutenant Allerton. Then Arthur had to go to New York on business for his father for several months. He heard from Angela once or twice, but she said nothing about her engagement. He had fought hard to quench his love for her, but the more he fought against it_the harder the task seemed, until final- 1#he worried himself almost into nervous prostration. When he got home his moth- er was greatly alarmed at his appearance, lerton is pleased.” “Look here, boy,” eald Angela, uncon- sciously using the old childish name she used to call him, “do you think I got en- gaged to please Mrs. Allerton?" “Well, I thought you were golng please the family, that way-—at not—"" | He was getting into deep water. turned and started into the street. |Then he looked back at Angela. There were tears in her eyes. ke caught her in his arms. “Will you piease me this way?" he asked. “I have always wanted to, boy, always and always,” she said. to least, He — = - (! Ly ] | 4 ¥ 7