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Caption: Sophograph - 1889
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'II. 1 »achfut glance from those clear, limpid eyes, his heart in its tender yearnings, seemed for a moment to cast out every i ubt. What did yer leave me that way fer ?" she broke forth. "When ?" said he absently. "Last night. Yer know well enough if yer wanter." "Dearest," he said, winningly, drawing very close to her, may I ask you a question ?" ".Yaw!" she said fiercely. "Don't speak to me; I won't listen. "O, come, now, just a word ?" "Nary one," she answered, emphatically. He could control himself no longer. Hendi: over her, with accents tremulous and low--for her words were to decide his future happiness, perhap his whole life—he said : Tell me, dearest, do those stories calumniate you ? Are you what they say you are ?" Her eyes blazed with anger "What do they say ? Who am I ?" She burst forth at last. an you insult me ?" Forgetting himself in the intensity of his anxiety he exclaimed : "Are you a cook ?" She shrunk back as though smitten, but her countenance revealed the awful truth. He left her side with a cold "good night." His worst fears were realized. Never again did he wander after i ;htfall, by the light of the moon But in the evening's deepening dusk, the boys say that from his window come the plaintive notes of the old, old sonj. »» we tjzdcr Specif P« fo-
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