THE IRRIGATION AGE. 



183 



THE SUBSTITUTE. 



BY L. WING. 



"Oh. I'm so glad to see you ! I thought 

 you were never coming," exclaimed Em- 

 ma, rushing down the front steps to meet 

 me as I returned from my day's work. I 

 was quite startled, at this Vudden interest 

 in me, for though we had boarded in the 

 same house for some three weeks, this was 

 the first time she had ever taken any ac- 

 count of my outgoings or incomings. In 

 short, we were merely speaking acquaint- 

 ances, though Emma had a few weeks 

 before done me a great kindness by shar- 

 ing her room with me, when I was obliged 

 to give up mine to friends who were visit- 

 ing me. In thus saving me from a bed 

 on the floor she won my gratitude. 



My surprised face questioned her before 

 my tongue had time to act, and Emma 

 hastened to explain: 



"You remember the other night when I 

 shared my room, with you, and you prom- 

 ised to do me a favor if it were ever in 

 your power?" 



''Yes," I answered. 



"Well, you can do me a great a very 

 great favor. Now will you?" 



"Certainly, if it is in my power," I re- 

 plied readily, wondering what it was she 

 wanted and suspicious of being asked for 

 a "loan." 



Her next question staggered me, it was 

 so far removed from our previous conver- 

 sation and so irrelevant to the subject in 

 hand : "Did you ever go riding with a 

 strange young man ?" 



''Well no," I must confess I never did," 

 said I, rather inclined to resent such a 

 question. 



''Well, will you go?" Emma asked, and 

 then went on breathlessly, "You know I 

 have a friend Grace who is perfectly crazy 

 to go round to theatres and places, but 

 never has a chance, because well, to be 

 frank, because she isn't asked. Well, I 

 thought I'd fix it nice for Grace, so I told 

 her that Mr. McKinzie You know Mr. 



McKinzie, that nice-looking fellow that I 

 go with?" 



I nodded. 



"Well, I told Mr. McKinzie that the 

 next time he came tp take me driving to 

 bring a friend and a double rig and have 

 Grace go. Grace was awfully pleased; 

 to-night was set for our drive (we're going 

 to Lincoln Park), and she was to be here 

 to take supper with me and all start from 

 here. Now it is seven o'clock, and she 

 hasn't come, and at half past seven those 

 two men will call for us, and you can just 

 imagine how good they will feel toward 

 me when they find I'm the only girl, go- 

 ing. The other fellow will be mad at 

 McKinzie for bringing him way out here 

 to play gooseberry; McKinzie will jiist 

 about eat me for suggesting the thing in 

 the first place, and as for me wait till I 

 see that Grace !" 



I felt sorry for Grace, whoever she was. 



"Now," continued Emma, ' 'you see what 

 a corner I am in, and as a last straw I 

 cling to you to save me," this last very 

 tragically. 



"Why yes, I see you are in a very em- 

 barrassing place, but how can I help you 

 out?" 



''By taking Grace's place and going 

 with us," was Emma's prompt rejoiner. 



''But," I protested, "I don't know either 

 Mr. McKinzie or his friend, and aside 

 from my own feelings, how will that man 

 enjoy having a strange girl palmed off on 

 him for a drive?" 



Emma reminded me again and again of 

 my rash promise to aid her if possible, and 

 at length feeling sorry for her, 1 weakly 

 consented, and the next fifteen minutes 

 were spent in such hurrying around as de- 

 fies description. By good luck I had had 

 my supper, stopping for it on my way 

 home, and the rapidity with which I got 

 into my "other clothes ' was a record- 

 breaker. Our landlady, tc whom Emma 

 had previously told her tale of woe, took 

 quite an interest in the affair, and fondly 

 imagined that she helded me dress, though 

 as ier "help" consisted chiefly in hanging 



