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A WILL A1 BY MRS. ET1 The Story of s I (Concluded.) "My father is Benjamin Drake a poor farmer in county niv mother died when 1 was fou and sister Minnie two years of age papa never married again. I was al ways a tom-boy, I am sorry to say and papa nicknamed me Hoy. lit and Minnie call me nothing else My name is Paulina. When main: was on her death bed, she ma<l< papa promise to educate us. We lia< a governess till I was and Min nie 1.1 and then we were sent to col lege for four years. Well, al tin end of four years, we came home finished and found papa in abom the same lix. It was only by chance that I learned how he was situate* itnd that he was hopelessly in dc'?i lie would never tell us his troubles seeming lo think that we could <le nothing to help, and tha.t we miisl no? have a moment's uneasiness o; pain, if be could help it. lie, like thers. thought that girls were more for ornament than anything else,' bitterly, "and vet how could lie think that, and remember mother: Alter learning that papa would lose his little home the coming January if something was not done, I became desperate. I tried long and faithfullv t<> met work as a girl. but without success. 'Where's there's a will there's a way' has always been my motto. So when I rea<l your nolice in the paper I determined to try for the situation, dressed in male attire. I tried hard to get a ]>lace, though. before I did that. The dav before you employed me. I canic :< you as a girl and pleaded for the place. I )o you reineinber? I purposely wore a veil, knowing that you would refuse me and that I would come the next day in masquerade. That's the way it all came about. You agve Paul Burton tli; position and as I'aul Ihirton I have tried to serve you faithfully. With the money I have sent papa and with what Mil.nie has saved and made, papa writes that lie can now see his way through and 1 cannot bear to longer deceive you. Papa does not know that I am masquerading? forgive nie oh ! forgive me and let me go home to papa and Ducky?and please, please don't ever let any one know! Please kee| my miserable secret" and breaking down completely, P?ov slipped from the chai?* and knelt in shame at the Id gentleman's feet. Tie laid lib hand tenderly on her bowed head and said with enioti*>n: "Hear little tried and true hear! ? noble L'irl. What would I not give to be the proud lather of such ;i daughter. Zound>. it beats am thins.: I ever heard in my life. I'm glad \ or. c:;nie here glad I ;;ave you tIk place. Lookup Paul Paulina, don't \ on realize that you are a great hero luroiue and that I appreciate and applaud the course you have taken: Look up dear link girl and -mile as you used to do." Slowh the beautiful face was upturned l liL and the glorious eyelooked into the kind ones bent above her and a tremulous smile parted her lips as half in doubt, yet with a glimmering hope she whispered: "( Mi. Mr. Lawrence. You do torgive nie?you will, won't you?" "bully, freely. And as a father loves his child, so 1 love von. 1 loved you as Paul, and shall continue to love Paul-ina. 1 low tunny it seems. How glad I'll be to see you dressed as your sex demands. < Mi. I know you'll be a beauty. And now let me beg that you have iu lingering dread or feeling of shame for you have nothing to regret oi be ashamed of." A blush mantled the girl's cheek; as she thought of Cecil and hi: words: "I'd think her deuccdly immodest to say the least." And though he: heart was no longer burdened bj the secret of her deception, still i was heavy as lead and throbbc< painfully. Mr. Lawrence continued "Well. well. well. There was i hidden significance in those word: you wrote for my inspection tha day : "Where there's a will there's way.' Zounds. Yon proved the trutl of that old adage with a vengeance didn't you? Well. well. well. Yot brave, noble girl. Any father migh well be proud of such a daughter? any many will be blest who win you for his wife." "(Mi. sir. I shall never marry,' blushing painfully, then turning pale. "I ou t feel that I could lool at a young man if this should be MD A WAY. H1EL THOMAS. # t Girl's Courage conic known and certainly I'd never . marry one who didn't know. So I ; shall just go home to papa and r Ducky and live in seclusion the bal ancc of my days." "Nonsense Paul-ina, there's no t one on earth who would not admire j and love more for what you have And oh. just think of it; but for you t a girl, my wife and little niece might 2 now be dead. And Paul?Paulina, 1 a boy, wiil get credit for that?a boy - will be made a hero for that brave . deed : a reporter interviewed me as I came back to the office. ' Pon mv _? soul I mtisi rectify that, Paul is a l I hue felow. but honor to whom hon: !or is due* and he mustn't steal from 1 j Paulina." chuckled the old gentle,; man. , I "No, no. Paul P.urton is welcome ) jt<? all that. Paulina Drake cares t nothing for all that?cares nothing for the name of heroine. Onfv let nie feel assured of your forgiveness : and I am more than content." "Pest assured of that Paul?littL> girl. And you are a heroine in more ' ways than one. And see here, you I must not leave us?we can't do without you. Your services are in, valuable to us. You have proven the worth of girls, of one particular | girl, any way. and it would be cruel j to leave us now. If you persist in I doing so I shall think you arc not J a hit sorry for what you have j i clone:" teasingly. "but if you stay you shall receive seventy-live dollars 1 per in<mill fr<>m this on." Hoy's heart leaped joyously. She : could >lay?she was not discharged attir all. And yes she woud accept the kind offer, and she'd show that stuck tip Cecil Lawrence that she j cured absoutely nothing for his j opinion. I'ears filled her luminous' brown eves and she kissed the kind old hands: "( >h. how can I thank you. how can I ? You are so kind to me." j "By not trying, Paul-ilia. I real-1 ly could not do without you. You' have been here five months, now, I believe: how many times have you 1 been home**" "Only twice, sir. I was afraid to , risk it too often." "W'oudn't you like a holiday and ' a visit home, and wouldn't you let . me go with you? I am anxious to know the father of so courageous a ! girl." "( >b. .sir, I'd like it so much. And I will yon really go with me?" and her face glowed with genuine pleasure as she looked eagerly at him. "Zounds. It will be a delightful i trip lor me. I 11 be glad to go. And 1 t now you mu>t not work toclav. < live : i nil' your address and I'll come alter | you iu (lie morning: we'll leave on | thi' S o clock train it that will --nit i}"ii. and we'll give your lather and >ister a delightful surprise." | I'.oy gave him her address and 'tasked timidly while her lace grew t pale : j "Will you?shall you?tell?tell M r. l Vol < >1 me ?" "W hy. I must, little one, for of . course you will stay with us?" "Yes. sir. gladly, thankfully. P?ut i I do dread to tace him after this, [lie? he? says that a girl who 1 I woud masquerade in male attire is Pdeucedly immodest,'" she falterl ed. " The mischief. Fiddlesticks. We don't care a cent for that young fop's opinion?no we don't. What he says is not worth that," snapping * his lingers scornfully. "But how ' came him to say that?" * "I?one day I was so miserable ; over the way I was deceiving you? and him, that 1?T asked him what he thought of a girl who would ; masquerade for months in male at* tire, and?and that is what lie said." ,1 Old Mr. Lawrence looked at the r contused girl, noted the downcast ' eyes and changing color. lie rct ineinbered in a flush the confidential 1 chat Cecil had once had with him, : and how the young man was puzi /.led over the strange influence of < Paul, and a happy smile lit up his t features as he replied: i "()li, well. 1 know that young i scamp. When he knows all he will . be the loudest in your praise and i the last to condemn. He would t agree with me that circumstances - alter cases, always." s "\\ ell. sir, I don't want to sec him any more, or speak to him as Paul Burton. I want to slip out without X a word to him." v "All right, little girl. T understand - and I don't blame you. And now you had better go to your aunt's and ease her mind a little," knurl A window in Air. Lawrence's office that opened on the street was slightly raised, and had rliey looked out, they would have seen a young man leaning up against the warm, sunny wall, busily engaged in writing in shorthand in a reporter's note book, while surprise, delight and triumph lot up his pale, sallow face. Surely he had found a piece of startling news and would astonish the inhabitants of the citv bv a different write-up of the morning's runaway in which Paul Hurton was made a great hero. Oh, he would be careful that the other papers did not get an inkling of the true state of tilings until thev read the startling facts in the paper he represented. It made no difference to him that the young lady preferred to remain in the background. I le felt to allow such a thing would be to do a great injustice to her sex. ( >h. it should be the best write-up and the greatest compliment that he could possibly transmit. The heroine should not hide behind false modesty. W ith a heart lighter than it had been for many a day P.oy left the J I store and went back to her aunt's, joyfully relating all that had happened. ()l course, a great stir was made over Hoy's adventure, but as that brave little heroine so stroughobjects to so much praise for what she had done, we will pass over that. I low happy she was as she rushed to her room and kicked off tlu- now despised pantaloons and | dressed up once more in her own I clothing. She had not bought n , sin^ie w inter dress as yet but Aunt [Kllcn had thought fullv provided for i this occasion, and with great satis- i faction she now brought forward a ! beautiful blue broadcloth tailormade suit, over which I'ov scream-! t'd in delight. There was a lovclv I hat to match, dark blue, with great [drooping pumes that was a perfeer [gem in the way of millinerv. Then there was a set of furs, presented hy her uncle: also a dainty pair of shoes and some gloves, with no end ot handkerchiefs and collars. \\ e ve had these things rcadv for this occasion for the past two months." explained Aunt Kllen. delighted over Hoy's pleased surprise, "and I have been feeling like shak-1 ing von because you wouldn't bring j things to a climax by telling everything. I've been half crazv to see you in these things, and if Captain (Overton hadn t almost sworn me to secrecy. I'd have shown t' '.*111 to you long ago." she declarec'.. "Dear, blessed aunt and uncle. ( >h. I ni the happiest girl iiving.'' And P.ov danced and capered in per- j feet abandon, feeling that she must i . now make up for the time she had! I lost in being so quiet and dignified 1 I'oy. I 111 so glad you are going, to stay on. I don t see how I could , d< 1 without you. and vour uncle! (traveling >0 much. I do wish lie' j would ?|nit drumming and stav at t home with me. !iv the way. he'll "be I ; here tomorrow, and you'll be i;one." And at the store Mr. Lawrence! 1 wa< explaining things t ? ( "ceil, half | | inclined to kick him because he | 1 didu t show more surprise. It was 1 | old Mr. Lawrence who was sur- , priced, though, when Cecil said: 1 "I knew it ? I knew "anl was a girl! I found it out yesterdav." "Well, she's going to stav here, and you'd better mind how .von treat her. She hates vou now. I think, and small wonder." And the old gent reman chuckled with delight over the look of pain and surpise that settled on Cecil's face. "Cecil," he whispered, "do you understand the things which puzzled vou so??Paul's magnetism, for instance." "Yes. uncle. I understand that and more. I'm miserable and wretched! That girl will never forgive me. and I don't blame her? poor little Paul! dear little heroine! how can I bear your scorn?" brokenly. "Hies* my soul!" ejaculated Mr. Lawrence as he left Cecil. "Well! I don t care if the young scamp does suffer a little, he's been such a flirt. Put pon my soul. I hope things will all work out right, and I believe they will. It won t do to push things, though and I won't say a word." Next morning at 10 o'clock our heroine and Mr. Lawrence were at Dunroon village. After a little bustling around the old gentleman procured the finest carriage and pair that the best stable afforded and with it a well groomed driver, who carried them quickly over the distance to the home ot Parmer Drake. Imagine, if vou can. the delight of the fond father as he clasped his I l?ov in his arms once more, fairly j bewildered at the beauty of the girl Iso handsomely dressed in blue, MinI nie, too. was no less delighted and ! it was some little time before Boy could present Mr. Lawrence who was suspicions)' blinking his kind old eyes over the touching meeting. But at last he was presented and cordially welcomed, feeling that he was going to thoroughly enjoy this trip to the country. The two old gentlemen were soon conversing in the most friendly and animated manner, and at last Mr. Lawrence said: "I tell you, friend Drake, she's .... 'ic. whole-souled girl I iver saw and a perfect heroine. She saved my wife and niece yesterday from almost certain death by stopping their runaway horse." The old farmer looked bewildered for a moment: "What's that? Mrs. Maggie Lawranee and little Elsie? Minnie was just reading about that, but the paper said Paul Burton." putting on his spectacles and picking up the paper, intent 011 reading it again. "Oh. ah. I've done it now!" exclaimed Mr. Lawrence in dismay and looking at Boy imploringly. She rose laughing sorry for his discomfiture, saying: "Wow you've fixed it. I'll just leave you to explain to papa. Tell him all. It has turned out so nicelv that he can t scold.'' And lauhing she caught Minnie around the waist and said : "Come on. Ducky, and I'll help you with dinner and tell you a lot ol things that you are just dying to hear. And the girls skipped from the room, leaving the father gazing after them in perplexity Nothing loathe?in fact he was delighted to do it?Mr. Lawrence realtcd all of Boy's lips and downs, easily convincing the fond old fanner that she was an angel. The face of farmer Drake was a study. Tears dimmed his eyes and his hands trembled. At last he spoke: "By (ieorgc, it's jest like her. I might ha' knowed that she was into some devilment. (iod bless her. Rut if I'd ha' knowed that she was what she was bent 011 doin' I'd ha' locked her up <>n bread an' water before she should ha' gone to ihe city, by George. The darlin'! 1 shall al'avs thank < Iod that she got in with sicli a kind-hearted gentleman, and i thank you for hein' sicli a good friend to her." ringing Mr. Lawrence's hand. "It was a reckless, dangerous piece of business an' might ha' ended quite different for mv precious motherless lamb. Do you know, sometimes I believe that my dead wife's sperit watches over her two little ones and keeps them from harm. You hain't got no idee of the hairbreadth escapes Boy has had from death., and al'avs comes out without a scratch!" tremulously. A feeling of deepest respect and reverence tilled the heart of Mr. Lawrence as he listened to the good but illiterate farmer. "IVrhaps so my friend?that is a beautiful thought. And. 'all's weli that ends well.' I've arranged to keep your daughter at >eventy-live dollars per month, and I sincerelv hope you won't object. She can; come home more often now that she no longer masquerades, von know She lia^ made herself so necessarv to us we can't bear to give her up." 1 "What? You don't mean it? That little gal make seventy-iive dollars per month? Well, by (ieorgc! If she does she must keep the money. She has helped me enough, bless her. With her help and Minnie's I see my way clear now. By the first of January please God. I'll be out of debt and think it will be easy to stay out. Yes, she must keep the money" "But she won't. She declares her intention of making a thousand dollars for you besides what she has already made. It will take her only eighteen months and allow her about $350 for expenses in the meantime. I doubt if she spend that much as she doesn't have to pay board, and she is naturally saving." "A thousand dollars." By George that's more than I've cleared 011 a farm in five years all put together. "An the old gentlemen talked on and on, each deeply interested in the other, while Bov and Minnie were hustling around in the kitchen and exchanging confidences. Minnie told of how Mr. Benson had insisted 011 helping her cook, and how he had proposed that they put u]) a little establishment of their own where she should reign supremely as both queen and cook, and how glad she was that the school was out and the horrid thing gone. "And you didn't consent? Why Ducky, how could your tender .heart send him adrift? For shame, Ducky," playfully. "I?L?like some one else?and I ?and some one else li?likes me, continued the blushing Minnie. Dr. LaRoche. lie buys all my chickens and I believe he pays more than they are worth. He says he doesn t though. And he always comes tc select them himself, and then sends for them." "And you entertain him as charmingly as you did your first ealer?Paul Burton" laughed Boy. "What is he like Ducky? Describe him." "He's a great deal handsomer than that conceited Paul Burton was. lie has dark eyes and hair the loveliest mustache 111 the world, is tall and and is perfectly and divinely handsome." "I hope you will be happy, Ducky," softly and earnestly, thinking of blue eyes, fair hair and a glorious mustache. 1 can't tell you how old Mr. Lawrence enjoyed that visit, lie was a little surprised to find the old farmer so illiterate but recognized in him a noble hearted Christian gentleman who commanded respect. illo praised Minnie's conking, admired her chickens, making the sweet girl very happy. M rry. lighthearted Boy returned with Mr. Lawrence to the city nex; morning, carrving with her a lov."g father s blessing. The rich blood mounted to her cheek < when introduced 'o Cecil as "Miss Drake" but her Have eyes looked squarely into his :-s much a-to say: "I don't care a ig for you or vour opinion, so tiiere. "And what has become of our handv wishing that his i mgue had been paralyzed rather than to have made such an unfortunate remark as he saw it was. Cold as a breeze from icy mountains came the answer: "We left him in the country, sir. ! le s had enough of city life?hates evcrythin in it and will never venture out again." 1 kr brown eyes flashed, telling Cecil quite plainly that if he thought her immodest, she ilidn I care. 1 hen with dignified grace or." beautiful heroine walked composedly to her desk, leaving Cecil g:i::ing after her for a moment. Then with quick strides he reached her, saying quite low: "Forgic me. Miss Drake. I am ready to swear that the heroine of your novel is without blame?the most noble and unselfish charade1" I ever heard of. Let me assure you that no one adm.res more than I the courageous self-sacrificing and independent spirit of said heroine. Do forgive me and let us be friends." pleaded the young man with an irresistably charming manner. Boy flashed him a little smile, nodded her curlv head, and sent Cecil back to his desk with a lighter heart. Later m the day Cecil la;d a paper on Boy's desk and pointed to the conspicuous headlines of a full page .article. "Miss Pauline Drake the Bravest and Noblest liirl on Record, alias Paul Burton. Assistant Secretary for the (ireat Lawrence Mercantile P.stablisbnunt. Five Month- Masquerading in Male Attire. Interesting Details, etc." It was a minute account of all Bov's trials and troubles from the time she came from college up to the present moment. It rectified the mistake that had been made in announcing the brave act of Paul Burton in the runaway affair. It stated that Miss Drake would remain with Mr. Lawrence, who had found that she really was a most efficient assistant, and worthy to fill the responsible position and would up by declaring her the most perfect heroine in every sense of the word, one in whom the city was justly proud. Boy read the long article with burning checks and flashing eyes. At last she dashed rt down and faced Cecil Lawrence angrily: "You did it. Oh, how could you?" passionately. "On my honor, Miss Drake, 1 did not. Neither have I the least idea who did. We arc all puzzled over it," earnestly. ' Forivge me then. Mr. Cecil. Oh, these horrid papers." tearfully. "There s nothing 7>ut the very highest praise for you?why feel so badlv over it?" tenderly and soothin?lv "I hate so much publicity-?its awful. I tell you. But forgive me please Mr. Lawrence for accusing you wrongfully," smiling through lier tears. "There's nothing to forgive." Then softly: "Won't you please call me Cecil? T should like it so much!" "No. indeed, sir!" frigidly, and Cecil sighed and went back to work, while at the same time Farmer Draek was carefully cutting said article in the right shape to be4^^| , pasted in the back and on the fly ; leaf of the old family Bible. Cap-^^H i tain Overton came home from his>^^H : travels and was highly elated over ? the way things had turned out. Me had seen the first article in the paper and confessed that lie had told some drummer friends who were in jj^B the same hotel with him all that he UJ knew of Paul Burton. W| When Captain Overton wanted flfl to tease Boy he caled her his little plenipotentiary. Boy continued to board there and of course, the servants all found out the secret that fellow obediently kept his distance jealously. Boy now went to the theatre occassionallv with Cecil, and hundreds of admiring eyes followed the beautifill girl wherever she went for she was known to be the great I heroine and was lovely as a June jj rose. Cecil knew perfectly welT ' that Boy was his fate but also found ji that it was no easy matter to address this calm, cool and collected country girl. For months the poor fellow obediently kept hi* distance as plainly marked out for him. Xever before had any girl filled him 4 with such con Hiding emotions, or kept him so completely under lici thumb. At last Cecil found that uti- Mi der the guise ol poetry, be could put into language passionate words ol love that otherwise he bad not \lHjj the courage to utter. So every I^H chance be recited the most touching and tender poems to Boy, watchin.CoMHg longingly and always in vain fojjflB some sign of the desired effect. ^ At last he saw with distnav th?( nothing but a straightforward difr'fjH? claration of love would get froi'jV5jSB| Boy what he wished yet dreaded know?for poor Cecil was bv nji means sure that he would get favorable bearing. lie nearly always escorted Bo.i home from the office saying that th-'ii^^H city was full of kidnappers seekim >^9H young and lovely girls for then .KB prey, and that they made a specialty of heroines. Irafl ( hie lovely evening in June, just one year since Boy Had come to VRfl the c:ty, (. ecil had called to bring Boy some new music, and to help her practice it on Aunt Ellen's new piano. After conscientiouslv practicing till in desperation Aunt Ellen S and I nele ()verton had taken them- 8H selevcs to another part of the house, C ecil sang for Boy a sweet and tender son of love, every word of which was laden with the all-ab- ? sorbing love he felt for her. It Bl " 'Dear heart thou canst not know I The love T give to thee: w Strong as the rivers onward flow, 1 fl Vet calm and silently.' " I Xot by word tone or gesture, ' fl did Boy betray the emotion she felt. She had learned the art of masking J her feelings, and could do it per- fj U'Ctly. She wondered win-it a man 1 loved a woman, he couldn't tell ; he r so in a straight forward and manly way, without so ridiculously resorting ol other means. Where is the woman who does not like to be .claimed in ;i bold masterful man- J ] ner? | ' ( ecil must have read her thought-, i<?r he seemed suddenlv t'o lose all baslilulness : determination settled' over his handsome face ami as Boy saw him rise from the piano and come toward her she knew irhat she 4 could play with him no longer; that J the time for surrender had come. I, She was standing at a window, gazing out on the beautrrul moonJight ' hojiing to impress him that she) did" not recognize the passionate llojvWtilr? that vibrated through the sw; 5 IIW song. TTe reached her side and her hands in a firm grasp. ?Jjr || "Miss Drake. Pauline. I'm goi , ?11 to quote one more piece of poetrj , fill the very last! I.ook up, deare. 1 c'flP look into my eyes while T repeat JV In a sweet, shy, surprised and l" V hesitating manner. Roy's eyes were t' 1 raised obedicnty but timid'y to his . 1 " 'vi^v f'v> tell-tale blunhes dyed' her cheeks a lovely crimson. " 'Oh. vou'd be an awfuly jolly Little helpmate little Patili'e; J* " " nendant nor a shocking , | Stuck no frumo of a blue stocking, But i. devr little woman? ft*1! Most gloriously human? (r Born to cheer me all through life, ^ Will clear Pattlie be mv wife?' ^.cj ^^'i 11 von darling? Oh. you have held me oil long enough--a thousand ve.'M's it seems fo me?and now T must know my fate. T can't bear il any longer. Sweetheart, give me an answer straight from vour heart mav \, flare T. hope fo win vou ? fi Bov s eves fell before fbe passion V. and longing in his own. LoUvr.and lower sank the brown head while crimson flood dyed neck and cars. ) \ ' \ N I