Page 7 Advertisements Column 3

Cromwell Argus, Volume XXVII, Issue 1372, 13 August 1895, Page 7

of himself? The thought- was maddening ! She should live to rues it! He would make her pay for every slight she dared to put on him. Ho swore a silent oath that he would never give her up. She had consented to be his wife, and his , wife she should be, whether she liked it > or not. He turned from the window, with a look of settled determination upon his handsome face. i " You must not be surprised if I find it bard to reconcile myself to your wishes," he resumed, sitting down near her, and making an effort to speak with calmness. "lama good-natured sort of [ fellow, but I confess you tax my forbearance when yon deny me all the privi- ; leges of an engaged man. The compact ! seems to me rather unequal: I give you all 1 have to give, and you give me—what ? " \ " I know it is unequal," replied Elsie, raising her eyes for a moment, but shrinking at once from the expression of , his. "I have told you the simple truth ; I make no promises that I know I could , not perform. I will give you gratitude, obedience, and I hope, respect; more I cannot say." " You would be rather more liberal to that Quaker fellow, I dare say," sneered Sam, clenching his fist with repressed fury. Elsie di-ew herself up, and looked at him with cold contempt. "There is nothing more to be said, I think," she said, rising witJi quiet dignity. "Oh, yes, there is," answered Sam, rising too, and speaking slowly and deliberately ; " there are two sides to a bargain, and we have as yet only heard one. You will marry me on conditions, you say; I, also, have conditions. Our engagement is to be at once announced, and you must promise to treat me, in public, as an engaged man should be treated. Keep your stand-off airs for our private interviews—do you understand ? You must walk with me, talk to nie, and behave civilly to me. lam not going to out the pleasant figure of a despised lover, I can tell you. On the whole, I think my conditions are fairer than yours." " I do not say that they are unfair," said Elsie, turning very pale, but taking no notice of his insolent, bullying manner; " I will do my best." " Stop!" he cried, as she was moving off towards the door, " we have yet to settle when the wedding is to take place." She held up her hands in silent appeal, but he took no heed. " Two months of this farce is as much as I can stand. Let me see, to-day is the fourth of October; we will be married on the third of December; that will give us time to enjoy our honeymoon before the Christmas festivities begin." If he wanted revenge he had it now; Elsie sank down upon the nearest chair, and looked at him in speechless horror. Two months !He could not mean it. She had prepared herself for marriage at the end of two years, perhaps more. She could not find a word to say. Again Sam was touched by a pang of remorse. His was a strange, capricious nature; swayed, now by one wayward impulse, now another. He walked up to her, and placed his hand, not ungently, upon her shoulder. " Come, Elsie," be said, in a softened voice, " don't look frightened. You made me angry, and I think I have some l-ight to be angry, too; but lam not such a bad fellow as you think. I mean to be good to you, I really do, fori love you, Elsie. I am a fool, I know, but I cannot help it. I would give the world to please you—to win your love." His voice faltered. "Perhaps I shall, some day, when you are my wife, but my wife you must be; I cannot, will not, give you u|>." - He waited, hoping for a reply; but Elsie sat dumb, white, motionless as a statue. So he left her. Passing through the hall, he met Betty. At sight of her he made a sudden effort to assume the gay manner of a fortunate lover; but his ill-suppressed agitation and discomfiture by no means escaped her keen eyes. " Ah, Betty, how goes the world with you? "he inquired, with a smirk and a wink. " You must congratulate me, Betty. In two months' time Miss Elsie will be Mrs. Sam Dodd. What do you say to that, eh?" Betty smiled grimly as she opened the door for him, and gravely wished him health and happiness. " Funereal old party," thought Sam, as he slipped another golden ambassador into her willing fingers, "I'll make sure of you, anyhow!" Bertie was, after his fashion, sauntering aimlessly about the garden. To him, too, Sam confided his " good news," and begged him to tell his father that he would see him the next time he called. Bertie did not think that Sam looked exactly as he supposed a happy lover ought to look, but he set it down to his own ignorance of the species, and departed "in hot haste to find Mary, and impart. to her the interesting intelligence, Betty meanwhile carefully put away the "golden douceur" she had received, pondering the while over Sam's crestfallen air, and the look of battle which still gleamed in his eyes. She moved restlessly about her tidy kitchen for awhile, and then marched boldly into the: drawing-room. There sat Elsie, pale and motionless, her eyes fixed upon the carpet. "My lamb ! my dearie ! what ails you then ? " cried the good old woman bending over the girl tenderly. " Nothing, Betty dear," said Elsie, starting to her feet, and trying to smile. " I think I have a headache, and I am tired, oh, so tired!" and all at onpe her courage gave way. and she fell into Betty's arms, weeping hysterically. The old servant was too wise to ask questions then; she only soothed the agitated girl, and, leading her upstairs, she made her lie down, and wrapped her up ; then, pulling down the blind, she left her to sleep as she hoped; and so went back to her kitchen, shaking her head, and greatly troubled in mind. Betty's anxiety was somewhat appeased by Elsie's appearance at tea. She was pale and silent, but there Avas no evidence of distress upon her face; there was even a serene moonlight sort of happiness about her which puzzled Betty and completely misled Mary. In truth, Elsie had a difficult part to play. In order to carry out her scheme of self-sacrifice, it was necessary to deceive Mary and Betty. She must at least appear to be happy, and by steadily fixing her mind upon the end in view she was able to keep up a show of cheerfulness. But how different was this forced liveliness from the spontaneous gaiety which had been hers a week ago ! [to be coxtixued] Motherly Consolation. Mother (reading over a batch of her son's rejected jokes); "I'm sure 1 can't see, John, when the editors ptint such stupid jokes, why they shoidd reject yours.". I Market Reports. Pens and paper are stationary. Cutlery is very dull. C< eese firm and fairly active. Butter strong, but inclined to'be s'ipppry Whisky lively an I unsteady,'. Hops lively iii'rl ae.'iv . Gimp >\vder inclined itoV be fieing, ft#g opened s tony,