Man Proposes: A Story

MAN PROPOSES.* BY SUSA YOUNG GATES. The dining room was flooded with the soft sunshine of a September afternoon. Everything was in exquisite order. From the plaster casts and vase on the mantel, to the last leaf on the palm which stood in the sweep of the western bay-end windows, there reigned order, cleanliness and peace. Both parlor and dining room were pretty rooms, and the few good rugs scattered about on the waxed floors, with the few fine engravings on the pale, cream-tinted walls, gave evidence of taste, means, and some culture. The white-robed, dark-haired girl, who stood in the window of the dining room arranging some flame-colored nasturtiums in a glass bowl, was the sweet, living expression of the daintiness about her. "Mary, do you expect company this afternoon?" asked her mother, who sat by, watching with some sadness the subdued excitement manifested in the girl's actions. "Oh, I don't know, mother. Yes; suppose I do. Either Burt or Harry will come over, I suppose, and maybe both." A little frown gathered on the brow, and a proud expression clouded the beauty of the brown eyes. *Asked what the moral of this story is, the author said,"It has none. It is just an incident from real life.'' But since it would not have found space in the Era without having amoral in it, it is plain the author is mistaken. The Era will be glad to receive suggestions from any young man, as to what the moral is. We will print the best.—Editor.

342 IMPRO VEMENT ERA. The mother rocked quietly for a few moments, and then, as the girl was still silent, she said: "Mary, do you think you are doing right?" "Oh, mother! how can you? Don't you see I am tormented with the whole thing, till life is a burden? And why don't you help me? Why do you make it harder?" "Well, I am sure," answered Mrs. Graham, somewhat petulantly. "I don't know what I've done to make you fly at me like that. To be sure, I think you ought to dtcide which of the young men you want, and not keep them both hanging on a string. I don't see how it is that my girls have any number of beaux bothering about, while we are always having it preached that there are so many girls who cannot get husbands?" The look on the good lady's face proclaimed sufficiently the pride she felt in the fact, however much wonderment it might cause her. • But there was no trace of felicitation on the pretty features of her daughter. Only an anxiety that verged closely on despair. "Oh, it's all such a tangle," she cried piteously, while the tears which had been filling the dark eyes now flowed over her cheeks. "Both Burt and Harry are model young men; both are returned missionaries, and both are gentlemen, and, above all, true Latter-day Saints. I am sure I could love either, if I only allowed myself to, but I don't know; I can't find out which is the right one." "Well, it's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of in my life. 1 can't understand you modern girls. You get such exalted notions. When I was a girl, we didn't think about higher education and aesthetic culture. We just went out with our beaux, fell in love when Mr. Right came along, and got married." "Yes, I should say so," answered the girl, a gleam of mingled amusement and scorn drying the tears in her eyes. "You were young ladies at twelve, and married and settled down at sixteen." "Yes, indeed we were," asserted her mother with some spirit, "and we made satisfied, healthy, stay-at-home wives, and managed to bring up a whole family of girls like you. I have yet to see any great improvement in the homes, the wives, or the babies,which are shown to ue nowadays."

MAN PROPOSES. 343 "That's true," answered the girl ruefully. "We may be a bit more intellectual than were our mothers, but I'm sure we are not as intelligent nor as great." Softened at once by the generous admission of her daughter, Mrs. Graham rose to leave the room, but said, as she opened the door: "I am sorry for you, Mary; but all I can say, my dear, is what I have always said, try to do what's right. It looks as though Rose Lewis was in as great a stew as you are." "Well, yes. Only Rose is a different kind of a girl; she has a good time, and lets the other fellow worry about it. I wish I could take things as easy as that." Hardly had her mother returned ere the door bell rang, and a young man with a lithe, tall form, a firm, decisive manner, and a clear-cut, keenly intellectual face, which barely escaped being handsome, entered the parlor. Mary felt a thrill of strong, powerful vitality, which emanated from the close hand clasp, and what with the strain of indecision, coupled with several almost sleepless nights, she was shaken to the heart with conflicting emotions. Burt Lawrence walked to the window, after the few words of greeting, and then, as the girl stood several feet away, both of them overwhelmed with a nervous excitement that was much nearer pain than pleasure, he turned abruptly and said: "Mary, I want to talk with you alone. May I?" She nodded assent; he quickly drew the folding doors together, and came to where she had sunk down on the couch, too breathless to do aught but wonder. "Mary, dear," he said, softly, for with his trained eye and his quick sympathy, he saw the unnerved condition of the girl before him, "I don't want to annoy you, nor to weary you: I have been very patient, and I am not egotistical in saying that I have waited long on your good pleasure, and have borne as much mental stress as a fellow can well bear. You know I love you, dear; no need of saying so; you know it, don't you?" The girl before him nodded her head, speechless, and clasped her small, nervous hands a little closer. "I have just let things drift until now; but I don't see any use

344 IMPROVEMENT ERA. in mincing matters. Harry Thurston, he's a splendid fellow; a much better man than I am, and you will get a husband worthy of you. I have come, Mary, for you to make your final decision." The dark eyes of the girl closed, as if in a swift mental spasm. If there was possible to her distracted mind a thought, it was a dumb dissent to his reference to his rival. Just now she had forgotten Harry Thurston, good and noble as he was, and, in her present mood, his name jarred on her senses. The young man saw the effect of his words, and, scarcely understanding the cause, began pacing up and down the room, while the girl silently buried her head in the pillows, her whole form shaking with suppressed excitement. At last, finding that he could get no word of response, he said, recklessly: "Mary, you may not know it, but you make me feel like a brute. I have suffered so much in the last week, that I concluded I could bear it no longer. I intended to come to you and simply tell you that I would step aside without another effort, and give Harry the full liberty he so well deserves. But when I see you are suffering, too, and because of my own blundering stupidity, why, Mary girl, can't you understand, it's driving me wild?" He stood over her, with both his hands clinched, gazing with agonized eyes at the dark tresses he must not touch, at the quivering form which his longing arms must never grasp, and with a stifled groan he said, hoarsely: "I beg of you, Mary, end this. Indeed, you must, you shall." The fine nostrils quivered as if with a final breath of resolve, and the slender, manly form drew to its full height. He walked quickly but quietly towards the door,and as he stood with his hand upon the lock, he said: "Mary, I shall take my train for my distant southern home. May God bless both Harry—and you." His hand was upon the door, and in that swift moment he had crossed the portal of life's desire and had relinquished love and hope. But a hand was put out to him, and in a moment he had crossed the room and was kneeling beside the couch. There were no words spoken, only the tender clasp of the arm about her, and the sky gradually lifted and allowed him one

MAN PROPOSES. 345 look into the brown eyes ere the dark head sank on his shoulder. "It isD't sympathy, is it dear?" he asked, putting his hand under'her chin, and forcing her to look up into his glorified eyes. "Is it?" he asked, almost doubtful. "No," she breathed softly. "What is it, then, sweetheart?" And as she still hesitated, he insisted with the note of masterfulness in his voice, which was so new in him with her—that gentle, firm note which is so thrillingly compulsive to any woman from the man she truly loves, "What is it, Mary?" "It is—it is—just love! Only—"and again the head sank on his shoulder. But he was still insistent. "Only what, sweetheart? Yes, you must satisfy me, now; there must be no 'ifs' nor 'onlys.' " "Only—well, it's love," and she caught her breath; "only, you know, I didn't know it till now!" With supreme content, and with a half-sigh, he whispered: "Thank God! But, oh! what a sweetheart I have stolen from Harry!" ***** It was two weeks later, yet the soft September sun mellowed all the rooms of the Graham home with a richer golden tinge, and the point d'esprit curtains swayed softly with the gentle west wind. Mary Graham sat in the low rocker swaying softly to and fro while she talked earnestly with her lover's friend and her friend's lover, Joseph Combes. "Do you know, I think some girls need to have their minds made up for them." They were evidently deep in a discussion, and the little lady's slender hand emphasized her remarks with various and delightful gestures; that an unaccustomed diamond ring sparkled on the engagement finger furnished no reason why the graceful member itself should not be flourished at will to point a moral or adorn her remarks. And so the discussion proceeded. The young man opposite to her was decidedly handsome; he

346 IMPROVEMENT ERA. was not only good to look upon, he was likewise gifted with that subtle attraction we call magnetism, and he was, withal, endowed with eloquence and finesse; his was a thrifty temperament, cautious, reserved, yet full of a sweet, dignified kindness which won men as well as women, when he chose to exert his power. He was decidedly a rising young man, in the church as well as in the state; but how far he might rise depended on several things. One of these things, he himself keenly realized, was the sort of wife he might acquire; fcr a wife that should fail to lose her own idle ambitions in the far more wifely and glorious ideal which his lofty aspirations and really noble character will justify, would certainly not be the wife for Joseph. Therefore, the earnest discussion proceeded. "You know, I myself suffered everything before I at last made up my mind, or rather before Burt made it up for me." The attentive gaze of her companion encouraged her to proceed, for his splendid eyes were glowing with interest as she talked. "Now, of course, Rose is not exactly like me, but she is a girl, anyway. And, as I say, girls don't know their own minds half the time. Did Burt tell you the awful time we had? Oh! I tell you it was something terrible." "Yet Burt seems to have survived it all," the young man answered, with his sympathetic smile. "Well anyway, if I were you, I'd just try it. Isn't a dear girl like Rose worth the effort? And in my case it was a decided success." The young man arose with evident reluctance as he said: "I wish I might stay longer. I must go, however. And you think it a safe experiment for me to make?" he added tentatively. /'Faint heart don't win girls now any quicker than it used to, my friend," said Mary sententiously. "Ah, but you know there is as much to lose as there is to gain i" "You could win any girl, if you only tried," declared the girl. And the young man blushed with delicious naivete at her earnest, yet inconsistent, praise. However, the staid and sober young man found his mind co

MAN PROPOSES. 347 tinually dwelling on the suggestions made to him, and no work nor study could drive from his mind the delicious possibilities of making up Rose Lewis' mind for her. With unusual care, he prepared himself for an evening with his best gir-, and his last girl. Rose met him at her own hall door, and with her charming chatter beguiled his mind while she divested him of his hat and umbrella. "How awfully dear of you to come away out here to help me to pass this miserable, rainy evening!" Her delicate form was arrayed in a shining pink satin dress, and a priceless bertha of Duchesse lace veiled her beautiful neck, while the heavily ringed fingers flattered here and there. My lady Rose was a lovely girl, with soft, tender features, and rather thin, scarlet lips which seemed made for kisses. With the instinctive grace of a kitten, she curled up in a big chair, and leaned her brown head against its brilliant cushions, all unaware, no doubt, of the seductive picture she made. Conversation never lagged when brilliant Rose was near; and so the weather, politics, and even ethics, in a very broad way, were rounded up, and each seemed a poem when its exposition rippled from the dewy mouth of the little lady. Joseph sat entranced. His compelling eyes rested with fervor upon the sweet face near him, and a decided responsive thrill trickled all over the sensitive, nervous organism of my lady Rose. There was a suppressed air of excitement about her usually calm admirer, and she wondered idly whether Joseph was going into active politics or the insurance business. With gentle tact she drew him first to one subject and then to another. Her mother appeared at the door and asked Rose if she would go up to her sick father a moment. "Of course, mama dear. Is poor papa worse?" "No, dear; only he wants you to write a note for him. I hare lost my glasses." With a parting excuse, and a laughing commendation of her precious "munsie" to the tender services of Joseph in her absence, the slender form trailed out of the parlor, and one could hear the

348 IMPROVEMENT ERA. very high and peggy heels clatter daintily up the stairs, as their wearer tripped up to do her father's bidding. "Rose is her father's pet, you know," said the good mother, after her daughter had disappeared. "She is worthy of that, and indeed of all honor," gallantly remarked Joseph. After some lively chat, in which Miss Rose naturally and conclusively formed the dominating feature, the young lady herself fluttered down stairs, and with her soft, purring sweep she embraced her mother's comely shoulders, and with loving pats conveyed her tenderly and skilfully to the foot of the stairs, all unconscious, no doubt, of the mingled delight and desire which the sight of her filial caresses aroused in the breast of Joseph. "Such a good daughter must of necessity make an excellent wife," he said with great earnestness. "Do you think so?" cooed her ladyship, as she once more settled herself down to luxurious content. "That's so sweet of you to say so; but, you know, husbands are not always as nice as parents, especially my dariing daddy and munsie, mump, mump," she protested, naughtily. Here was Joseph's chance. With a slight hesitation, he began his argument. Puss curled up cosily as it proceeded, and her sparkling eyes gave evidence of the intense interest this conversation was causing. Certainly this was a very new departure! How handsome he looked, as his tall, graceful figure bent towards her with Joseph's own inimitable manner. With what eloquence did he plead his case. The flower-like face so near him got upon his nerves, so to speak, and caused him to throw all his old-time caution to the winds. For the first time in his life, Joseph had forgotten himself and had loosed the tension of his magnificent self-control. Now he is pleading the cause of the noble Sylvester, his rival yet his life-long friend. With fervor he paints his splendid record,' and points with pride to the young genius in whose favor he is about to abdicate—to dispossess if he can. The misty eyes of the young lady opposite gleam in response

MAN PROPOSES. 349 to his generous portrayal, and her sweet lips tremble with suppressed emotion. With one grand gesture, Joseph solemnly declared that the hour—nay, the moment—had come in which her fateful decision must'be made. "My Rose of jessamine breath," he quoted beautifully from the East Indian love song, "you must choose now between us. Can you decide? Nay, can you refuse to decide?" "Oh, no!" softly breathed the dainty vision beside him. "I cannot refuse to decide. I am ready." "Love! And you decide? You choose—" "Oh, yes, I have quite decided. I shall marry Sylvester, if I really ever marry anyone, you know!" Salt Lake City. Utah.