Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 January 1885 — HAL BURTON'S MISTAKE. [ARTICLE]

HAL BURTON'S MISTAKE.

BY JENNIE S. JUDSON.

When Hal Burton wrote and mailed these two notes, one morning, he little imagined the trouble he was calling down upon his devoted head. The first one ran: Dear Oud Feucow: If you really want her, don't let me stand in your way. Go in and win. I thought you understood that 1 was fooling from the first. Yours in haste, Harry. And the other thus: Dbar Miss Mabel: Owing to pressing business engagements, I shall have to defer my call tor this evening. May I come soon again ? Your friend, Harry Burton. The first of these two notes, addressed in a bold chirography to Miss Mabel Benton, was placed in that young lady’s hands two hours later, and the flush which overspread her face as she recognized the dashing hand, told a story in itself. “Dear Old Fellow” were the words which struck her amazed vision as she began its perusal. “Whatin the world can Harry mean ?” she stopped to say, but as she read or! the flush on her cheeks deepened to a redder, angrier hue, and when at its Close she raised her eyes they were full of both pride and pain. This note was intended for Tom Steele, or some young man of that set,” she thought, with bitterness, “aiid has been sent me by mistake. I shall act on this revelation of fate, however, and in future avoid Mr. Burton and the jesting he has enjoyed so much of late. ” “Hal is getting dreadful polite,” muttered Tom Steele as he threw the note just received and read, among cigar-ends, tapers, etc., which adored his center-table. “May he come soon again ? When I’ve scarcely missed seeing him one night for a week, what does the boy mean ?” “May I have this waltz, Mabel,” whispered Hal, as the two met in Mrs. Trenton’s ball-room, two days later, his eyes full of undisguised admiration as he looked down at her. * “What hypocrisy!” was Mabel’s mental comment, as she caught the expression, and she answered, coldly, “I ■am sorry, but my ball-book is "quite ■full,” handing it indifferently to him as she spoke. A strange light spread into Harry’s ■eyes as he saw on every other line the name of a handsome young fellow, who had lately come to Morton, and who had already supplanted him as Mabel’s escort for the evening. “It is full,” he replied, carelessly, and he returned the book without another word. But he gnawed his mustache fiercely as he walked away. Mabel’s manner lost none of its gayety because he held himself distantly aloof from her for the rest of the •evening. She had never been more animated.

“If she can throw me over like that,” thought Harry moodily, as in his room that night he went over and over again the events of the evening, “and for the acquaintance of a week, too, she is not the girl for me, and I have no earthly reason to care.” He did care, though, as a pain at his heart gave proof, but he smothered it down and determined to make no sign. “In the cast of characters for our Say,” announced the chairman of the orton amateur' theatrical committee, a week later, “we, have assigned the rt of ‘ Norman McGregor’ to Harry Burton, ‘Janet Grey’ to Mabel Benton, and ‘Edgar Montrose’ to John 8. Fremont. ” ' “There couldn’t have been a more suitable cast, as far as real .circumstances are concerned,” thought Harry reading over the play. “Normanand Edgar are bdth 'ifi love with JJmet Grey, Norman desperately jealous, and Edgar successful for the time; happy •circumstance for me,” he added, with a, sigh, “if the real affair could assume’ the aspect of this at its close, for Norman so successful in the end.” “Why are women so wild always,” he cried, giving a savage clutch at a paperweight sitting near, “about handsome <nep? I could 'have sworn she cared for me until Fremont came, and now she ■scarcely deigns a glance in my direction. Heaven knows I wish I could give her up as easily she has me, but I .can’t do it, and it costs a desperate effort to wear the indifferent face I do. ” As Janet Grey, Mabel was more fascinating than she knew, and Norman yoGregor. the unsuccessful suitor, found her constant coldness prompted more by nature, he feltj than by the

requirements of art, a bitter thing to bear, now that he was called upon every night to suffer from it. Even the relenting, demanded by the plot of the play in the end, was one in which she put so little animation that he drew no comfort from it, and was only withheld by pride from giving up the character which brought him torture every night. The afternoon of the last rehearsal came, and all final arrangements were being completed. Mabel, wearing a gossamer over her bewitching Scotch costume, was putting some finishing touches to the stage decorations, while Mr. Fremont prepared evergreens for her, when this conversation carried on in the gentlemen’s dressing-room met her interested ears: “Hallo Tom,” exclaimed Hal Burton’s familiar voice, as some one entered the room; “glad to see you back; when did you come ?” “To-day, at twelve.” “Sorry you staid so long, my boy; we have missed you woefully in this affair, and I told Hackett last night if I could only lay hands on you, we’d have ‘Norman McGregor,’ at your service, done up in style. The character is very distasteful to me.” “Pshaw, Hal, my talent doesn’t lie in that direction. ” “By the way,” remarked Hal, suddenly, as if recalling something, “did you get my note before you left?” “Why, yes, I did; but I must say I don’t understand yet the cause of your overwhelming politeness. That little appeal, ‘ May I come soon again,’ was quite beyond my comprehension.” “What are you driving at, Steele?” “The note of regret you sent the night before I left ” “My note of regret! Is the boy mad ? I wrote you a note in regard to that horse of Brown’s; told you I had no intention of standing in your way, and hoped you’d be successful in getting her. Is not that the one you received ?” “No such note has ever reached me,” Tom answered, decisively, while Hal, illuminated by a swift idea, broke into a fit of laughter. “I have it now,” he said. “I wrote Miss Mabel Benton a note the same morning, and, in my haste, exchanged the envelopes. How very careless; But my overwhelming politeness, that is rich,” and he lapsed into another merry peal, in which Tom also joined.

“But what can Mabel think of me?” he wondered next, as he remembered that all allusion to the horse had been made through the pronoun “her.” His eyes flashed as a sudden idea suggested itself to him, but ere he had time to follow it out he was called upon the stage. The play proceeded smoothly to the end; no lack of life characterized Mabel’s acting in the last scene as before. The interest she threw into it seemed to spring straight from her heart. Her downcast eyes, the natural flush upon her cheek, the trembling of the little hand which lay within his own, told Hal a glad truth; and when at the last she ra sed her eyes, it was to find in his a look of exultant gladness. “You ran away from me this afternoon, Mabel,” whispered Harry, as they stood that night in a little entry back of the stage, waiting for their cue. “I wanted an explanation of your late cruel conduct toward me; won’t you give it to me now?” Blushing and trembling, she vainly attempted a reply. “Was it because of that note I wrote to Tom Steele?” he inquired, with a merry light in his eye. “Yes, it was, Harry; but I don’t think it fair for you to tease,” as her eyes drooped beneath the laughing light" in his. “Then you know, Mabel,’to what it referred?” “Yes. I overheard you tell Tom Steele ” “What reparation do you intend to make for your unmerited treatment of me. Miss Benton?” he next whispered, as clasping one arm about her he drew her' close to his side. “I have been very miserable of late; more wretched than you can imagine, and deserve a rich reward for the suffering you have caused ” “Some one else has suffered, too,” she whirred, with a swift glance from her eyes. “Ah, Mabel!” he cried, impulsively, “if such is the case, promise to take what I give you, and give what I ask in retxjrn ” “What do you demand ?” “Your heart for mine,” was the quick response; “are you willing to make the exchange ?” “Oh, Harry,” she said, “I must go. They need me in the dressing-room.” “Little witch! do you think I’ll release you till the promise is made ? One little word is all I ask, and, sweetheart, that is ‘ Yes.’” “Some one is coming. I have no time to promise. Please, let me go f” “The whole world may come,” he answered, with' decision; “btft .you shall not leaie until you say what I desire to licftr “Well, then,” with a'fjput, “since you compel me, I'will darting swiftly from his hold’,* with a 1 mocking little laugh.' f .3 A moment later, however, when •on the stage he sang to her: “You tangled my life in your hair, Janet; ’Twas a golden and silken snare, my pet; But so gentle the bondage my soul did implore The right to continue thy slave evermore,” eyes spoke so plain and glad a “yes”, that he scarcely needed the confirmatiojfcgiven by ggutle lips, a|, after the playTwas'over, they walked’slowly and happily home. •t ' ' Changed His Mind About Her. “I shall never call on Mrs. Smith again, ” sayl Mrs. J ones. “I never want to see<her any more.” ' “You women are very foolish to quarrel over trifles, ” said Mr. Jones. “Mrs Smith is a very plesant person, a little talkative, perhaps, but on the whole a very estimable woman. You shouldn’t attach any importance to what she says. What was the trouble?” “She sajd you weren’t very prompt in paying your debts.” ♦‘Well, by thunder!” shouted Jones, jumping to his feet, “I would give $25 if she were a man for just ten minutes.” —New York Star.