The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1900-09-30
DnftWood.

I've walked too far" she said weari-
". I'm tired" She sat down on log
at the edge of the wood and looked on
at the Jake. She was not in her frst
youth-Janet Long. Her eyes showed
experiences and sorrow; yet in society
she passed for brilliant woman. Her
critics accounted her somewhat too ex-
elusive But her critics were few III
comparison with the number OF her
friends. This day, with the chilly au-
tumnal wind announcing that the sam
mer was al its close, she mad walker
into the woods with Edwin Walker, one
of the men who had made up her
brothers house party.
Eve been careless, Miss Long, ne
confessed. II ought TO have remember
ed that such jaunt would wear you
out. You look chilled, too.
IT am" she said. I'm cold and-and
lonely
You look as if you were-though for
you to say that you are lonely Is not,
perhaps, much of a compliment to me-
81 didn't mean it for compliment or
a criticism. It's the truth"
/ He looked at her with sudden fame
coming into his eyes.
IF you are lonely he cried, its your
| own fault If you would let me
THE human soul is always, lonely, 81
suppose she replied. But I'm stu
pill Please forgive me. 1 said 1 was
tired-but 1 was mistaken. I'm really
cold Come down to the beach and
build a fire of driftwood."
He couldn't follow her mood-but that
| was nothing strange. She had baffled
and perplexed him for long time. She
ran down the embankment Ike girl,
and began Juggling great pieces Of Drift
wood and broken branches of trees TO
one spot He helped her, saying moth
| ing, but noticing the grace of her tall,
slender. figure; the beauty of her tossing
hair beneath her s.ouched gray hat; the
insouciant gayety of her laughter, and
her mood made her more charming to
him than she had ever been before. They
heaped the driftwood high and sat down
| before it together, and as the flames
leaped up, surprising the dun sand and
| the gray water and sky, she fell to talk
/ ing.
"Old ships, old wharves, old trees"
she said, musingly, looking into the
heart of the fire.
"Old loves, old memories, old palms, .
he said, musingly, too.
81 can imagine the time when the ships
sailed the lake triumphantly and when
the wharves were stanch and of much
service to men. and the trees felt the
sun and the wind in their branches,
| murmured Janet Long.
81 can remember when the love was
full of hope, when there were more an
ticipations than memories, and when
there was no pain said Edwin Walker.
A silence fell between them. The lake
made a melancholy murmur on the
shore. The flames leaped and cracked.
The wind stirred through the dead, coarse
grasses in the sand
well be back in town presently"
said Janet with a brisk re-opening of
| conversation. 81 shall have new gowns,
and you'll make visits to your ia Tor.
I'll see people, and hear music, and go
dancing. and will repeat poetry at teas,
and commit other sins"
"And ! shall never see you except for
a moment when you are talking airy
a moment. or troop in with a dozen
others at your evenings. You'll have on
| all manners of furbelows-and they
won't become you half so much as that
roughing outfit you have on now. You
| will pretend you are intellectual-and you
know you aren't-particularly. I'm say
ing good-by to you today, as a matter
| of fact"
''You are saying good-by to my sum-
mer self. My winter self is far more
| improving"
might as well be going home"
you are in a hurry?"
Eyes, for If we stay here any longer
! I'll tell some things which I would
rather not say
"Say them"
you have forbidden me to do So"
| But now I give you permission
You give me permission? You mean
that my whole life is being emb TERED
| by your refusal to let me tell you how
I love you? You realize that when l
leave here tomorrow l leave all that
makes life attractive or even endura-
Bile? My whole life has become centered
in you. There is something haunting
and subtle about your personality which
! has bound me as with an enchantment.
| You are the core of the world to me.
| It is mysterious, l confess. Why, out OF
millions of human beings should you be
the only one who can give me any JOY
! Why must read a book with your eyes
and listen 20 an opera with your ears,
and care only for a BEAUTIFUL morning
because think the radiance of it shines
/ on you? I can't tell But it is So"
| She got up and heaped more pieces of
| the driftwood on the flame. Then she
/ sat down by it again, folding her arms
about her knees
~ am not young" she said, NOR beau
tiful, nor gay, nor of the best courage
| I am inclined to ask questions Of lie
/ If I were married might be incline
/ to ask questions of love. I should be
I forsaying: Us this the best that life
can offer? Is this the ultimatum OF
I Lover"
'I don't care how much you ques-
/ ton" he answered. throwing himself
/ forward In the sand so that he could
| look into her eyes. eff you will stay near
| me. If l can see you in my home, you
| may question as much rs YOU phase"
! She looked down at him for a moment
and then her whole face changed break
/ ing into an expression Of radiant joy.
II believe I ought TO be able 20 get
/ as much of life as anyone else she
] said. The truth is, love you. love
I you-do you hear? But I was afrail
/ to test my capacity for joy"
He put an arm about her with tense
clasp.
do not be afraid" he said. BY the
/ light Of the flaming driftwood they sa
joyful love each in the eyes of the
! other.
What He Deserved
CFrom the Chicago Times Hersld)