30 



THE AMERICAN BEE KEEPER. 



Jduiiary 



tleigiKd to s.ij ti.ut, ••ir 1 was uuyiuuiy 

 like my pboio, he loved u\e alrenuy. " I 

 thiuk it wan ruiiicr sneaky of brnj not 

 sending one of his, but he has been 

 minutely described to me and is going 

 to wear a white gardenia in his button- 

 hole when he meets me at Calcutta. He 

 has a good post in the Indian civil serv- 

 ice and lives in Calcutta in the cold 

 weather and Simla in the hot; so Isbajl 

 have » good time. Lil rigged me out 

 and packed me off, and as for me — 

 well, I thiuk I shall like him, and 1 

 mean to try anyway. 



We have passed Port Said, and very 

 soon we shall reach Aden. Every one 

 on board is kind to me. 



I shall never forget arriving at Aden, 

 a horrid looking place, with low white 

 houses against a dreary background of 

 rocks, and no trees or flowers to be seen. 

 An interesting man came on board 

 at Aden. He is tall and broad, with a 

 kind face and dark eyes, and such love- 

 ly beard and mustache. I think I rath- 

 er like beards. That horrid Duncan is 

 clean shaven. I oughtn't to be thinking 

 about men. Oh, dear, I wonder if 1 

 have done right! 



I heard this new man ask the cap- 

 tain, in whose charge I am, whether he 

 might be introduced to a girl on board. 

 "Which one?" asked the captain. 

 "I think she is in your charge," said 

 the man; "a tall, slight girl, with 

 lovely gray eyes." 



He must have meant me. I should 

 like to be introduced, and yet in some 

 ways I would rather not. If I fell in 

 love, how awkward it would be I 



"Miss Carr — Mr. Rogers." The cap- 

 tain stood before me with the man who 

 came on board at Aden. 



I got red and hardly dared to raise 

 my "lovely gray eyes" to the handsome 

 face above me. 



"Miss Carr, I know a friend of yours 

 in Calcutta, Duncan Eastwood." 



I got redder. How much did he 

 know? How could I tell him I was go- 

 ing to marry a man I had never seen? 



"Oh, yes," I stammered. "I am go- 

 ing to stay for a few days with his sis- 

 ter, Mrs. Osborne, in Calcutta. Do you 

 know her?" 



"Yes, slightly, " he answered. "Rath- 

 ler a long way to go for a visit of a few 

 flajs, isn't it?" 



"inere was an awKwarn pause. x 

 simply couldn't tell him the truth. 



"Oh," I said carelessly, "I have 

 other plans after that." 



He seemed amused at my confusion. 

 I'm sure I looked a perfect fool, and I 

 was thankful that just then another 

 man came up and asked me to join in a 

 cricket match they were getting up. 



I have been so happy all these days, 

 but tonight I am the most miserable 

 girl in the world. We shall get to Cal- 

 cutta tomorrow, and I shall be seized* 

 on by that odious man with the whitt 

 gardenia. I shall never love him. I love 

 ■ome one else, and some one else loves 

 me. A few hours ago Mr. Rogers a»ked 

 me to marry him, and I told him all 

 my itory. 



I was leaning over the side of the 

 boat watching the glorious effects of the 

 moon on the dark waters, when he came 

 np behind me. I had a white dress on. 

 I looked up at him as he stood near, 

 and he was looking down at me with a 

 look I had never seen before in any 

 man's eyes. Such a world of love was 

 there, and all for me. It was worth living 

 all my 19 years just simply to see that 

 look. 



I don't know why I did it, but I 

 couldn't keep back a great sob, and at 

 that he took me in his arms and kissed 

 me passionately over and over again, as 

 though he had lost all control over him- 

 self. 



I tore myself away and told him as 

 calmly as I could all about myself. 



"I ought to have told you before," I 

 cried over and over. "But, oh, don't 

 you understand how hard It was? I 

 thought you would think me such a 

 dreadful girl to marry a man I had 

 never seen. ' ' 



"I don't, dear," he said very grave- 

 ly. "I think it is a good idea, and you 

 will find all will go well." 



"You are heartless," I cried despair- 

 ingly. "You don't care a bit. You are 

 not one bit unhappy." 



"My Bertha, it is everything to me 

 to know you love me. I don't think I 

 shall ever be unhappy again." 



"You are cruel, heartless, wicked," 

 I cried. "I won't listen anymore," 

 and before he could stop me I ran away, 

 and here I am crying my eyes out, 

 •wishing we had all been wrecked in the 

 bay. tl 



