Fantasy fiction; Utopian fiction; Utopias -- Fiction
Marie looked up as if uncertain of her friend's meaning, but the
twinkle in the latter's eye satisfied her that no belligerent
intentions were premeditated.
"How so, Mollie?" demurely, as she clipped a japonica rose from its
stalk.
"How so? Didn't I ask you to come here and win the love of Junius Cobb
so as to free me from the pain of seeing his love for me unreturned?
Didn't you agree to throw yourself away for Lester's sake and mine?
Didn't you tell me that you knew he couldn't help loving you, and that
his heart would soon be lying at your feet like a--a--a sponge-cake
stepped upon by an elephant? There!"
"O Mollie! I didn't say all that!" cried Marie, in confusion.
"Yes, you did; you know you did," shaking her scissors at the other.
"Well, haven't I tried to make him love me? Oh, I am so ashamed! Trying
to make a man love me, and he won't show the least little bit of
love," and she hid her face in her hands, in apparent distress.
"That's all put on, miss; as if I couldn't see. You were not here a
week before you had that great big brother of mine dancing after you
as if tied to your apron-strings," and Mollie looked severely at the
culprit.
"But, Mollie, I couldn't help it. He would come--and come, and
stay--and stay--and--and--I didn't know you objected--and I'll go away
to-morrow," and the poor girl burst into a flood of tears, and sank
beside the floral tribute to her lover.
In an instant Mollie was by her side, her white arms clasped around the
sobbing girl, and the kisses checking the rain of tears.
"There, there, Marie, my own true girl!" she coaxingly said, "I was
only teasing you. I would not, indeed I would not, have said it if I
had thought you would have believed me in earnest. I am proud of my
brother's choice; I want you for a sister."
"And you are not angry with me for not loving Mr. Cobb?" looking up
beseechingly.
"No, dear girl. I love Junius, for he is a noble though a silent
man. It would have given me great pleasure to have seen him love and
marry you, Marie, for you will be a prize to your husband; but, to
be my brother's wife, that is better still," and she kissed the red,
quivering lips of the girl, and gently raised her form from the ground.
Thus another scheme devised by human minds had failed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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