, 1885-06-09
THEY TWO

papers on the callgraph IN ner room OF
evenings to pay her board.
lie had a room that opened upon one
end OF a long yeranda with morning
glories climbing w il.
She had a room opening upon tho
other end of that veranda.
His name was Paul.
Hers was Rita.
That was all.
Until one Sunday morning when the
early sunbeams struggled through the
latticcd vines and lay in golden fieoks
on the floor. Then there was a pink
morning glory sparkling in a shower
of dow-drops, and a white draped
maiden trying TO reach it, leaning over
the railing.
But the flower was in a capricious
mood, and when she would almost reach
it it would take advantage of a sudden
bree e and swing away beyond the tips
of her fingers.
Paul, standing in his doorway, wit
messed her Intellectual attempts to cap
ture the peryerse flower, and, seeing her
looking wistfully at it, was visited by
an impulse to come to tho
rescue. She might think that lie
was impertinent. What Of IT. She
could only dismiss him with that ffigid-
ity which he supposed she knew
how to command when occasion
required, and he could most likely sur
viye the shock. So no went slowly down
the veranda.
viii you allow mei'
He broke tho rosy blossom and pre-
sented il with the bow that his dancing
master had taught him years agone.
He aired it only upon extraordinary oc-
c~asions. And she thanked him shyly,
and a warn color crept over her face,
like the reflection Of the morning-glory.
Then he said he thought that morn
ing glories were very pretty, and she
said she thought so, too. Which argued
q gratifying harmony of taste.
Then tho bells rang and she went
away to church, and he returned to his
law books. For, 1 regret to say, Paul
was not n deyout youth, even under
favorable circumstances, and Just then
he was preparing for examination. But
lie stopped for amoment before his Kent,
TO remember the warm flush that tinted
the maiden's face
lie did not see her again for a long
time, but he heard the click of her
machine as her nimble fingers flew over
the keys, and he wondered sometimes
If she had no pleasures, as other young
ladies have. He grew almost to hate
the innocent little writing machine.
Once in the soft light when it was too
dark to work and not dark enough TO
light the gas, he heard her singing, in a
soft contralto voice, ''The day is done"
And mi morning when he got up be-
fore dawn TO study n 'lease for q term
of /, Ol0 years to attend the Inheritance"
and went early to breakfast by reason
of the exhAustion consequent upon his
mental excrlion, he sat at the same
table with her.
Then the stained table-linen became
In his eyes the snowiest and purest of
damask. The steak, which could have
been severed only by a dynamite explo-
sion, was as ambrosia to his palate.
The cold coffee, with sour milk and a
red ant in it, was nectar from the COB
let Of the gods. When the surly man
at the next table suggested TO the
waiter that he must bring him some but
ter that was made subsequent to the
Norman invasion, he thought anybody
must he very unamiable to imply that
there could be n defect in that Olymp-
ian banquet.
Shortly after he saw her going down
street in the rain, wearing a gossamer
waterproof. He watched her a mo-
ment and thought how pretty she
looked. And when o man thinks n
woman looks pretty in a gossamer, the
chances ase that he is far gone indeed.
A few days later he sent her a review
which contained an article he thought
she would like; and then when she
came out on the veranda one afternoon
to hang her bird cage among the vines,
he happened to be out looking for the
hot wave that had been predicted for
that day, and he asked her what she
poetry. Then they discussed the songs
the readiness with which the languages
lend themselves to lyric verse. And IL
Blackstone did not receive the undi-
yided attention that evening which is
his lawful desert, he excused the neg
lect, because it was entirely due TO a
laudable interest in the poetry Of Prov
ence.
Paul was on the deck of the City Of
Washington one Sunday morning,
going to Alexandria, when he saw Rita
standing by tho railing looking out on
the water. She was in the sun, and he
found a shady seat for her.
She said she was going to Alexandria
to meet some friends who expected to
be there. May be they would not come,
but she always liked to go to the old
church.
"Of course they will come" he said,
hoping down in the depths of his wicked
heart that they would not. at is a
good thing the Father of His Conatry
was a church-going min. A desire to
visit the place made interesting by the
association furnishes d wicked sinner
like myself with on incentive to attend
divine service
People ought 10 go 10 church for
something else than to see relics, said
Rita. severely.
''Granted; but life seems TO have
grown too busy for religion. There
does not appear to DO any room for it.
Most of us cannot afford it. We are in
the position of Demetriuf, the silver
smith. Any god bat our own private
gods that we hold in severalty would DO
too expensive for u.s.
81 wonder how it would Nave seemed
to live in the older days, when religion
was the dominant principle, and all the
other forces were like minor tones in a
grand harmony
May be there never was such a time;
or, If there were, perhaps it seemed to
the people who lived then Just rs our
time seems TO us. May be it is neccs-
sary to be distant in order 10 discern
the true keynote of an age. | was once
riding by n hall in which an orchestra
was rehearsing. There was a grand