The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-08-07

shoots onward, like the loadstar to the
magnet. We have passed Philadel-
phia, the grouped smoking chimneys
of Wilmington,and are darting straight
toward Washington. I have my shoul-
der half turned away from Aunt Elsie,
and, with my head well back sit star
ing at the ain-drenched panes, for 1t
is pouring with vehemence that
makes every closet growing tree a
small cataract.
February.-New York and its gray,
slushy streets left far behind st. Au-
gustine, and two weeks drifting
upon it's blue waters, our objective
point. 1t is a prospect to cheer any
heart except mine.
Here is a theorem for a moral phi
1osopher; a woman, young, free, of un-
deniable beauty and independently
rich. miserably unhappy, with friends
in plenty, yet alone. All! the one face
which rises before me, the look of pain,
love. and self-awakening in the eyes;
it follows ME and keeps peace away.
Yes, the memory of that look turns all
my roses to dust.
Shall / continue my scribbling, and
write the story on this wild day of
rain and wind, as the train bears us
with meteor-like swiftness over the
shining rails? My letter-pad and pen
ell are temptingly alluring and the
desire grows TO see the thoughts that
torment me CONCEAL themselves on pa
per. There is no better way of forget
ting some things than by talking of
them. Beside me lies one big, loose
rose, to help me fancy, by the breath
from. it's glowing heart, that it is sum-
mer in the North, a lost summer, a
heavenly June again.
All my life had known Rufus Dar-
row. He was pseudo cousin, Aunt
Elsie's son, and she my mothers step
sister, and my chaperon when fate
left me orphaned.
AS far back as the days when life
meant a run across a meadow and the
division of a penny cake, Rufus and I
were chums. When the hobbledehoy
period was past, and he came home
from college, from school, he became
like my other self. Friends? There
was something more in Rufus's eyes,
good deal more in my heart.
Four years ago and summer time. the
luscious quiet of a June night stealing
through the windows and holding
New York under a spell. We were not
going out of town until late that year
and, as if to oblige us, the summer
retained the breezes of spring, the sun
seemed half asleep.
l was sitting in the wide window seat
watching the long rows of shuttered
houses, and the street lamps like senti-
nels in the twilight. My heart was
heavy. l was thinking of Rufus. on
that June night l admitted to myself
that / loved him, and the sting of the
afterthought made an ache rise in my
throat. Had this feeling grown in me
through the long years, creating its
own ideal, twining around Rufus Oar.
row, deifying his look, his voice, his
footstep-and was 1t all a mistake?
/ was proud and ambitious. Both
these characteristics seemed lacking in
MIN. He was gradually becoming
known as a club man, an idler, an ex-
travagant exquisite, with a nice taste
in boutonnieres.
Since his return from college, two
years before, he had attempted study
ing medicine, and had lightly given II
up. Civil engineering had ended as
disastrously. He commenced writing q
play, but did not finish it-perhaps this
banking house of a friend was pro.
nounced drudgery. He said he wa.
drifting" and occasionally took g
flyer in stocks" He was lukewarn
in his pleasures, too, unless they were
in some way connected with water ant
boat. He owned a sail boat, a ca.
noe, and was considered one of the
crack yachtsmen of a "swagger" club
Meanwhile. the money which sup
ported his golden idleness was mine
although he did not guess it.
Darkness, like a great birds wing.
interrupted my story here, as w,
plunged into the gloom of the tunne
at baltimore. 1t was like a foretast,
of the gloom that was to follow tn,
lonely hours revery l described. Blu
the day and wavering sunlight through
storm clouds are now visible again a!
we are borne on to Washington)
The house was so silent that day
that when a footstep sounded in tn,
hall ii had the effect of a summons
NO need to ask whose il was, Ruff,
came in and flung himself into a chai
opposite me.
How pretty you are Bess," he said
after a pause, taking one of his care
fully booted feet into lazy embrace
'the light on your cheek and chin, witt
the shadow underneath, the luminou
points in your eyes-ah, if 1 were
painter!"
did not reply. but sat with the half
regretful, half-joyous feeling of bein,
dominated, which always came owe
me when with him. l looked at hi
thick, fair hair, dark eyes, clean-cut
strong features, the look of purpos
and independence in his pose, and won
dered If Nature could have made thi
fair-seeming but a mask for puerility
Perhaps l betrayed these passionat
questions of my heart, for suddenl,
Rufus came to me with hands out
stretched, and heard from his lips tn
words of which l had often dreamed
In the high window-seat l was abov
him. He clasped my hands and locke,
up at me.
II do love you so. Bess You know
it well! / have always loved youth
best in me is yours. One look int
your sweet eyes. and feel a happines
that is the nearest thing to heave