Rocky Ford enterprise., 1900-08-17
- A Story Illustrating |
l fnf the Horrors
of War |
by n B. WEl-SH...


Of psst. annoyancss.
They were n 0rsysioks presently.
aud Margaret found her.eif In due
course In the drawing room. A few
people we're In. and Margaret was ia
troduced 10 them.
She was sitting beside Mrs wyntef.
= gently iuterrosatiSs person. when
the door opened and some one On
tered. Margaret did not look up until
Mrs. wynier said:
"Ah. there IL DIR. cleiand AZ last.
Nov. my dear, you will md yourself
sustained In your profession"
Margaret looked up. all the blood
rushing from her face. her heart sud
denly beating fast and loud. Yes. Il
was Paul Clciand indeed.
His eyes seemed somehow to 90
straight to the corner In which she
was sitting. He started. and = NO
mentary change passed over his facs:
but he controlled himseif In . minute
so quickly that Flo. who swept her
elaborate dinner gown up To him. did
mot notice L.
Here you arc at last. Dr.. cisland!
Nov. have some one wish to In
troducs you to. Come over to mothers
corner with me. DR.. cicland-Miss.
OF rather. DR.. Margaret Crawford"
Margaret bowed. feeling his eyes
were axed on her face: then. max
Ing . great effort. she extended her
hand. e.
DR.. ciciaud and have met before.
rio." she said. quite ciamly and dis
tnctiy. I'VE met each other At col
lcsc."
able tone. An angry little flush rose
to her checks as she glanced at Gle
lands dark. impcr,urbablc face. There
was an expression on II now which Flo
had never seen upon I, when he looked
ut herself. and her woman's Instincts
were sharp enough to tell her that.
whatever his feelings toward Mar
sarct were. they were not Of the ordi-
nary kind.
Yet Paul Ciciand made no EFFORT to
be near Margaret for the rest OF the
evening. and Margaret herself rather
avoided him than otherwise. Only
once his eyes nxcd In strange. In
tense way on Marsarct's face. and the
expression Of II sent thrill OF angry
jealousy through Florence.
That night. when Margaret was at
last aione In her own room. she sank
on her knees and prayed. through fn-
gers tightly wrung together: "oh. my
God. help me! II is hard-harder
than I thought-hardcr than
thought"
The days passed somehow. II was
the month Of September-rich. sweet
September--with skies of clear blue
not summer blue. with It's depths and
softness and suitry heat: but blue
paler. cooler. brighter; fresh. bracing.
invigorating September. coming like n
breath Of cool air after day OF ener-
waiting heat. The evenings were be-
ginning to grow longer. and were even
now chilly with the first breath Of the
fall OF the year.
The world was fair outside. but Mar
garet Crawfords heart was In no
mood to enjoy 1t. How she lived
through those terrible days she never
uIteTWdTu hueW. oteih6 aui NNNhy
day. talking with him. knowing. above
all-what agony the discovery gave
her, and yet. with woman's incon-
sistency. how sweet the knowledge
was to her!-that his love had under
gone no change. 1t was sometimes
more than she could bear.
She tried to be cold and distant, and
succeeded so well that she managed
to deceive Cleland for n time. He be-
gan to think that, after all. those had
been right who called Margaret Craw-
ford cold and proud. Had she loved
him as he did her. he argued, no dis
grace on her fathers name. no real
crime, even had he committed such,
could stand between and separate
them from each other.
One day Florence Wynter and Clel-
and were sitting together In the old
fashioned summer-seat at the end OF
the great rambling garden Of Grey
stoke. Florence had managed to es-
cape from her persistent admirer. who
was a good-looking and pleasant
enough young fellow named Frank
Thorpe, and made some excuse to en-
tice Cleland into the garden.
Presently the figure of Margaret, tall
and slim In its dark garments, walked
slowly down the garden path. At the
same moment carriage rolled up the
drive outside.
Florence started up suddenly.
Isn't It too warm to sit much lon
ger, Doctor Cleland? Let us go IN
now"
II find 1t very pleasant here, Clei-
and answered eagerly. You DO not
need to go in yet. do you. MISS Wyh-
ter? Here is Miss Crawford coming
down the garden"
THAT Is Sir Edmund Yorke's car