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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, March 13, 1913, Image 13',
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Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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MOLClE'-S CONFESSION ;
. c " By Dorothy- Shaw.'
It- was- tie second, 'evenings bef ore
theitfpiarxiage. Alt the. arrangements
had been. -completed and. for, a brief
hour? he lovers iwerealorie. together
at the-home th;bride-tprhe'.:
"Areiyoui quite ireconciledlto mar
rying ,the ' ,da,Ughter pfc a' rich.:nian,
ling'.iip againsi'WaltertiBarrtt,' her
fiance.-. "Jusjt thin,k! If Tqu," hadn't
He 'Was Smiling' No Longer.
been so proud, Walter,' wercduld. have
been married' two years by now,"
"And where -would my self-respect
be, Mollie?"' asked Walter. "I love
you with all my heart; 'but-1 could
hardly live, as a,, pensioner 'upon ..my
"But, dearest;, surelyyour love for
me "is- stronger ;than your pride,"
urged Mollie. . , .
"Well, but. how:.! shall have you
and keep my .pride,- too," he answer
ed. "I always knew-that some, day my
pictures buld'bnapped up." JVal-
lis, the dealer on the Avenue, has
been offeredva thousand dollars for
that seascape of mine and "
"He broke off suddenly, for there
werejtears in his bride's eyes.
"What is it, dearest," he pleaded.,
"Have I said something to hurt you?"
"No," she sobbed. "But, Walter, I
have been deceiving you these two
years. 0, Walter, do you remember,
telling' me once that no matter what
I had ever, done or ever could, do it
would make no (difference in your '
love forme?'' .
"Surely, Mollie. Come, what is it?
Somebody you once thought, . you
were in ,love with and haven't told
me about? Never mind, ;you don't
have to tell me as long as you love
me now. You do ove me, don't you,
dear?" he continued, a shadow of
anxiety crossing "his face.
Molhe threw her' arms round his
neck. . ' '"'
'WiJ:h alliny heart," she sobbed.
"But, Walter 0, how can I. tell, you?
But I must, eyen though you will re
fuse to- marry me'
"Nothing-could make met refuse,"
he answered. "Nothing in the whole
"Do you mean that, Walter? You
won't hate me for what I am- going
to say?" ' ,
"Hate .you, sweetheart?"
"Yes, hate me! O, Walter, I did
itvfor the best. I thought' it -was for
the' best. And now I see that I should
never have done it. It was father who
advised me." ' '
"Come, out with it," said Walter;
but he was smiling no longer. What'
could it be? Something dreadful, no
doubt; and something by which he;'
was to prove the sincerity of his love"
"Then listen, Walter, and let me
finish before you to say a word," said
Mollie, sitting up primly and stiffly
before him. Vlt's about your pictures.'
During the last year you have been
getting better and better prices forJ
them. from Enoch, haven't you?"
s "Well, I should say. I have. ;Two,