The record-union., 1897-01-03
MISS GERARD'S DECISION.
(Written for the Record-Union by
Gregory Martin.)

Gregory Martin.)
"Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat-tat."
Miss Gerard looked up rather impa
, ticntly from the piles of manuscript and
, notes strewn around her 1t was the
third time she had been interrupted
and then the day was dreary, and
/ DAISY Bells" story this month was
, unusually tiresome why will she per-
sist in repeating the girls beautiful
face flushed as he clasped the small
! white, fluttering hands?' l am not
half through and he has clasped he1
, hands just seven times, and her beau
!, tiful face has flushed equally as many
: Force of habit, undoubtedly, but what
could be expected of seventeen, espe-
, cially in a girl?"
Miss Gerard was in rather a sarcastic
humor this morning, and then Miss
| Gerard was nearly % years old. "She
. wore spray of hollyberries among
her raven tresses." The proofreader
sighed hopelessly. Not five minutes be-
fore Daisy Bells heroine had reveled
in wild roses and violets. She certainly
lived in other climes than California.
) He bowed his noble head covered
: with chestnut ringlets that swept his
marble brow" rat-a-tat, rata ia t
tat. Miss Gerard sprang up with in
tense relief depicted in every feature as
red, frizzled head was thrust in at the
door and a high pitched voice called,
} Miss Gerard"
"Oh, it's you, is it, Rob? I am so
glad. am sure he was going to clasp
her hand and her beautiful face would
have flushed and she burst out
laughing as Rob with a look of utter
astonishment, not altogether void of
fear, edged slowly but surely out of the
door.
Come back, Rob. Did you think 7
had gone daft, as Scotch Billy says
What is it you want? You must hurry,
as l am very busy this morning.
Daisy Bells story is not finished yet
and of course when an heiress writes a
story it must be published. Queer
world, isn't it, Rob?'
Yes, ma'am; but Mr.. Munro wants
to see you. It's something about that
swell wedding
Rob, you can't mean it. It's too good
to be true. There is the bell. I will
go and see him.
l thought you didn't care to go after
all, said the city editor as he arose to
meet her. She flashed him a look of
gratitude
DO you honestly mean it, Mr.. Munro.
and am 1 to go?" He smiled encourag-
ingly at the eager, flushed face.
am sure you deserve it. Miss
Gerard, and I know you are capable,
but It's past IL. so you had better
hurry"
A very pretty girlish reporter she
locked as she hastened along the
crowded Street-a quiet, unobtrusive
inquire In gray with here and there a
dash OF scarlet bright speck on this
gray, dull day. A little later she min
sled with the great crowd that
thronged one Of the most fashionable
churches in the city. Being on the staff
OF the leading paper she was given a
seat where she could command a view
OF all the proceedings unobserved.
Il wonder if Miss Copeland is as
handsome as they say and if they really
love each other?" She flushed half
guiltily.
L am a second Daisy Bell and what
would Mr.. Munro say if he knew how
foolish l can be when he thinks T am co
SehsSipie. And-Jack. What would he
say 1t was he whom she had given
up Tor fame. and although we'll on the
road, she never thought of him without
regret IN a certain vague way.
some day, when / have enough Of
fame, | will go back to Jack and the old
| life, she had been wont to saw. but tho
nearer she got to fame the less she
cared for the Old life, so Jack had been
thrust out of the future and present into
the past. That was nearly six wears
ago. She never doubted but what he still
chung to the old love and old life Ar
twenty-five one would not be likely to
change. He must be past thirty now
Poor, old Jack
she gave a sigh, and then the haIl
rung out the noon hour loud and clea
on the still November air. With a
sudden jerk she drew herself almost
reluctantly out of the past into the
present, where her work lay. but then
before her was part of the past, the part
she had buried. Her heart grew sud
denly light. Why, it's Jack, and how
Wen ana handsome he looks" Oh If
this horrid wedding was over and thew
could have nice, quiet talk together as
of old
She was hardly doing justice to the
opportunity that was granted her To
write up the Copeland wedding. She had
not heard the name of the groom
But what is Jack doing? Is it possS.
bic that" and then as he knelt at the
altar beside the beautiful heiress with
powerful force 1t all rushed over her
1t was ne who was to marry her, while
she, VINO had willingly, knowingly
thrust him out of her life was to write
up the wedding. Her head swan and
everything grew dark before her.
Ihe music died away. The sea of c1,ri-
Gus faces, flashing jewels and rustIine
silks, and the immense banks of flow
ers all faded into the background
There only remained before her that
one race with its dark, smiling eyes and
firmly chiseled features. A confusad
Hurinur OF voices and the sound of half
suppressed laughter rang in her ears
yet Above 1t all she could hear that
one voice saying clearly, distinctly.
an Louie consider, l ask you, before
You decide. Your decision Will change
the whole course Of our lives. and after
wards regrets Will be useless. Is fame
better than happiness after all? Per-
maps now, but in after years? IT does
not always live forever It's reign de-
pends on the careless, changing people
| To-day you are sure. but Tomorrow
! someone else may have succeeded Won
And you must remember, MY darling
that the path that leads to fame is NOT
altogether void of thorns-it's more
often rugged and broken than other