A WOMAN'S CHOICE
By -Mary Boynton Clark
Fearfully Miss Clarice bored a bole
in tbe top left-bancTconner of tbe pile
of manuscript. When the knife had
gone completely through the bheets
she inserted a piece of dainty blue
ribbon. She tied the ribbon in a knot.
She rolled the manuscript in a wrap
per and wrote the address of a fa
mous publishing house. She hurried
rather furtively into the street,
bought some stamps at the postoffice
and affixed them. She dropepd the
package into the box. And she walked
homeward in a happy dream. She
had sent her first novel to the pub
lishers. She sang as she went about her
work that evening. Her mother was
surprised at the girl's happy de
meanor. "I believe it's going, to be Jim
Thorn after all," she said to her hus
band. "He's a good fellow," answered the
farmer slowly. "I guess he's a lit
tle beneath the girl, though. More
like me, Jim is. Clarice could get
some one better.
"But nobody that loved her more,"
'answered his wife.
Clarice, seated with Jim in the par
lor, was bubbling over with the se
cret. She was waiting to tell Jim as
soon as he gave her an opening.
They were as good as engaged, and
everybody knew it Jim had loved
Clarice for years. He had a substan
tial farm on the outskirts of the town,
he had money in the bank; he was
the new type of prosperous, progres
"Clarice," he said, as they sat very
close together, "when are you going
to let me ask you that question?"
Clarice looked up at her lover frank
ly. She was very fond of Jim. But
there was that intangible, elusive
"but." How was she to say to him
that she wished he interested himself
in higher things?.
Jim was speaking before she could
begin. "You know, Clarice," he said
taking her hand, "we've been as good
as engaged for years. When you
came back from high school I was
scared for awhile for fear I'd lose you.
But you weren't that kind, Clarice.
You don't forget And I love you just
as much as I've always loved you.
Won't you say 'yes,' dear?"
And in another moment even the
novel was forgotten in the joy of
Thrust It Deep Into a Drawer
knowing that she loved and was
"Jim," she ventured presently, "do
you know you never asked to see my
my stories? Jim, don't you think
that when we are married you and I
ought to share everything together?"
Jim laughed and laid his hand upon
"My dear little girl," he said, "I
guess you don't know much about
authors, do you. Remember that f el-
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