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THE S e aus self how thened, and the young g the girl and handed pEvvsove nd ter y had a breakfast. ly. She cau extended. At shadow crossed Gradually this ex merged in a look bension. This is the letter My She offered him one ovanni, drawing him- declined jt. Some- to surprise me. z//j AR = refusal, and then wi sive movement she from the s t in extravagant Italian 2 [ LG LS00 rocal rush of joy born of gnd garden and wait passed She had dressed “Good mc g to one of bewilderment. ler 1 “Robert won't be angry wearied, Giovanni understood that the | broken appointment,” she decided. udience Was over. of those crisp green bills which rsu-i ““Dearest: resented almost a week's work at the | Wolverton, is here. -~ THE FARIEST CROSSEZ \\ PESEFLF AN SH4P THE GREAT Gop 13 Goar Kl TO 715 LR e a < or knot at h it %to the boy. I B e nder, greenish awakened to it almost perfect hap- 1 annoyed that she p her appointment ? ay previous? e her. She could not d nd eat her in out in the until the postman her plunge bath, and went flying downstairs. she cried smiling- ecagerly the letter he first, as she read a her countenance. pression gave piace nally it was of complete compre- about the Robert wrote: godfather, Wilfrid He said he wanted In this laudable ambi- tion he was entirely successful. I was understood the motive | not expecting him—didn’t dream he'd AN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. —_— bowed low before her. The S S e went out of town. The as closed. She came no e e - of his godson. if I did not insist on his the object he had in mind rted he’'d turn around ‘this elieve, and go back to his snows and tamaracks. Daft? I hear you ask. No man is saner, dear girl, But he's brimful of eccen- s. You know how prejudiced was when I wrote him about you that I should think of marrying “a girl of the States.” But, provided you possessed beauty and intelligence, both of which I assured him were yours in fullest measure, he was disposed to make the best of matters. As bad luck would have it, his ancient and icious fancy was yesterday en- d by some forward young person whose acquaintance he made at the road depot. She was there, it ap- , to meet a friend. He, fatigued by his journey, was overcome by one of his periodic fainting fits. This of- ficious young woman was equal to the occasion. She objected to having an ambulance summoned. One of her relatives, she said, was subject to just such seizures, and she knew just what to do. She had him laid flat, his col- lar loosened, begged a flask from a drummer and dispatched a messenger S A S I B N B s Py G By’/Kate M. Cleary to a drug store for what ved to be 8. 2 how, she brought him back to consciousness, had him lean on her arm to the cab stand, and saw him safely off to his chosen hotel. She would not give her name— only laughed away his thanks and went off, “He has talked of nothing else since. He vows he s going to advertise for the young woman, that he may form- ally—and substantially, if she will per- mit—evidence his gratitude. So fasci- nated is he by her that he has prac- tically lost interest in you. ‘Such grace!’ he raves. ‘Such wit! Such a good heart! Oh, my boy, if you had only fallen in love with her!” Which is neither reasonable nor logical, how- ever you take it! I try to tell him of your multiple perfections, but he waves all aside as mere loverly ex- travagance. I do hope you may be able to eradicate the impression produced by this extremely audacious young per- scn, when 1 bring him to visit you this afternoon. I'm fond of the old chap. He has always been mighty good to me. I dorn’t deny that the cool million he has promised me if I marry to please him means a good deal to an impecuni- ous bank clerk like myself. But I wouldn’t marry a princess of the blood royal, with the crown jewels thrown { more to the crossing and the heat blis- tered the streets and burned into Gio- vannl’'s very heart. But the flag waved mechanically and the memory of the fete day came to him occasional- ly like a breath of fresh air, but it was not to be talked of, because no one else would believe that she-was really a Princess. Then came the day of the fire in the great office building a block away. And on that day it so happened that the Princess had come to town to meet friends. She was crossing the city in a hansom, reach- ing Giovanni’s corner simultaneously with the arrival of the fire engines. Giovanni was first to see that her driver had lost control of his horse, and that it was plunging straight to- ward the excavation. The policeman on the other side of the street was having his own troubles. A slender, gray-clad figure seemed to rise sud- denly and leap out of the hansom. There were curses from the driver and bewildering shouts all around him, but the boy saw only the gray figure, and somehow he caught it in his arms. He felt himself going down, *; ‘' FOOL and His MO 60— By Edna Manner HE haze of the semi-tropics was everywhere, blending the gorge- ous tints of hills and valleys in its elusive veil. There were tears in the Mexican's eyes as b= sang to his tinkling guitar, and s notes were laden with grief. He looked up @ @ @ s in, If a little girl named Ray loved me. She says she does—God bless her. Au revoir, then! Yours adoringly, “ROBERT. “Why didn't you meet me at the Art Institute as you promised?” . - . . . . Ray stopped to address a question to. the big Irish setter lying on the hall rug. “Pickwick,” she asked, “why did I fail to meet Robert yesterday afternoon at the Art Institute, as I had promised to do?” Whereat Pickwick, sagacious and discreet, inferred she could not proves the matter by him, and only thumped a sympathetic tail by way of reply. At 4 o'clock the rooms were glist- ening with polish and glowing with blooms. Mrs. Fairlie, in her worn black silk and Honiton collar, received the guests with gentle dignity. The tall. handsome man, who had introduced him, looked searchingly around. He groaned as he heard the silver-haired old gentleman launch out in confl- dence to Mrs. Fairlie. “The most attractive young crea- ture, my dear madam, I do assure you. A hand like a snowflake and a voice of velvet. Heavenly blue eyes, full of the most captivating tenderness—" He sprang from his chair. down, down, and then—night. They stood aronrd his cot in hospital, the girl refusing to rest or leave him for an instant. “He might wake—firs ghe said with a catch of her breath, “and I must speak to him.” Glovanni stirred. The Princess saw the movement first and bent over him. In returning consciousness it seemed to Giovanni as if he must have waked up in heaven. “Princess,” he mur- mured, and the wonderful glow came into his eyes again. Impuisively the girl bent over and kissed him. He felt as if he were floating in the air, but it was not because the Princess had kissed him. He remembered the fall—the blow—and he looked inquiring- ly from one to the other. His grand- mother burst into tears, and wa n her native tongue fell from her U Giovanni turned from her to the Pr cess. The girl's eyes were dim with tears. Then it must be true, and just * the o———A——"° from beneath his sombrero, his black eyes showing the clear white beneath. “What's the matter?”’ came in a for- eign voice, and he glanced up to see the American miner looking down on aim. There was something unpleasant in the American’s eye that held people aloof and made them speak with re gtrairt when he was near. Raphael stopped playing, covered his face wi his hands and sobbed aloud. “Buck up, f{riend,” the cried; then added in Spanish, * wrong, anyhow?” Raphael 8T calmer. He stood up and leaned on h gultar, looking toward the hu home where his little brothers and sis- ters were at play. “QOh, senor,” he cried in confiding dejection, ’‘tis the beautiful Senorit. Anita. Senor, they have shut ! and I shall never see her any I die of love of her “No, you wo muttered the A jcan, turning away to nide gleam. The was loosened 3 of soul poured into listening ears. An this was the tale he told: He lo the Senorita Antta—a bewitching dam sel far above him—was dying of love for her. Many times they had met on the plaza, and she had glanced sh from beneath her mantilla and at him—yes, he could swear she "¢ ¥ THE LETTER ROBERT WROTE ¥ ¥ | “Good heavens! Who is that?” A girl in a diaphanous green gown, just the shade of a young lettuce leaf, was coming down the room. She had a lot of sunny hair rolled back from a broad, white brow. “Mr. Wolverton. She was stand- ing before him, was holding out her | hapnd. “We met yesterday. You are | quite recovered, I hope?” 1 He grasped her hand in a crushing pressure. He turned helplessly to| Robert Leith. “Do you mean to say that this—this angel is your promised wife? “1 certainly do,” laughed the amaz- | ed Robert. “I did not dream until this moment that she was your min trant of yesterday. Uncle Wilfrid, is she not—" “A forward young person—an offi- | clous young woman—an extremely a daciou- young person,” murmured Ray archly. Robert colored, laughing still more at the reminder. “She is perfection,” declared Wol- verton. “I didn't think there were such young women | e States. I still believe,” stancl “that there is only—one.” = “You deserve a kisg for that pretty speech,” laughed Ray, and touched his ernkled cheek with her fresh young . s plained tc shoulder name c ROSOOGSOSO SO0 EY VSRR eat nor h you America leaned fc norita, are 3 His gaze so—so st Her v “Senorita ful ladies. r of her heart whi ver trul eding h arose the vision of a ful, gentle eyes that had on the plaza, and a form pair of faith sought he that er the guitar at twilight. She burst she moaned. The carriag lover climbed out, t aning on the win- dow ledge, he pered: “If you are wise, keep still.” And she obeyed. T horse stirred, the coachma; iozed, and the time grew long. en the might quiet was broken by the twangy voice the American, mingled with the soft tones of her nat tongue. The -carriage door opened and there before her stood said the American, g0 home I'll take with your threw herself raste and propri ty were forg: n in the bliss of a first kiss of love gratified. “Here's a purse f girl, Raphael. Hope y life.” He told th ver to dfive to the sta , and stood watch- ing n disal ar down the white road. Then he took out a cigar, bit off the end and laughed as he said aloud always ught Miles Stand- ish was a fool. Half my mine gone, too. ‘The fool and his money are soon parted.” W it's the only fun I'll ever get out of it.” Then he w down the road towazd | the city. alome.