He said that he did not like women and girls who did
things.
"I like femanine girls," he said. "A fellow wants to be the
Oak and feel the Vine clinging to him."
"I am afectionate," I said, "but not clinging. I cannot
change my Nature."
"Just what do you mean by afectionate?" he asked, in a
stern voice. "Is it afectionate for you to sit over there and
not even let me hold your hand? If that's afection, give me
somthing else."
Alas, it was but to true. When away from me I thought of
him tenderly, and of whether he was thinking of me. But when
with me I was diferent. I could not account for this, and it
troubled me. Because I felt this way. Romanse had come into my
life, but suppose I was incapable of loving, although loved?
Why should I wish to be embrased, but become cold and
fridgid when about to be?
"It's come to a Show-down, Bab," he said, ernestly. "Either
you love me or you don't. I'm darned if I know which."
"Alas, I do not know" I said in a low and pitious voice. I
then buried my face in my hands, and tried to decide. But when
I looked up he was gone, and only the sad breese wailed around
me.
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