The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1900-10-24
One N)oman's
)ayc
d H1L1P sTuRGEss was 80 and

pointment in love In his early youth,
or that he was altogether impervlous
to the darts of cupid. Fond mammas
with marriageabe daughters made
him very welcome at their homes and
sighed enviously when they thought
of his bank account.
They would have laughed had they
known that under that cold. calm ex-
terror Philips heart was burning with
love for dainty little maid with eyes
like the summer sky and hair like spun
gold, and that when he approached this
deity his heart futtered like a blush
ing schoolgirls. But such remained
the fact.
And the little goddess who reigncd
supreme in his thoughts was pretty
Leslie Stuart. He had known her when
she wore short frocks and climbed
trees. Then came an absence of five
years spent at college and in travelling
in far-off countries. He remembered
her as he had first seen her after her
return. 1t was at her coming out"
party. The rooms were crowded, and
at one end beside her mother resplen.
dent in black velvet and diamonds.
stood Leslie Stuart, looking very
sweet and simple, clad in her snowy
frock and surrounded by banks and
banks of flowers.
II am almost frightened. Philip"
she had whispered as she gave him her
hand, looking up into his eyes, and it
was then that the brotherly liking had
changed to a deep. true love, the love
of matured man.
But Miss Stuart knew nothing of this
feeling and confided to him her con-
quests and doubts alike. always feeling
sure Of his sympathy and gentle coun-
sci, never guessing how hard Philip
strove to keep his tone impersonal. But
that was almost year ago, and lately
Philip had noted a change in his little
friend. To be sure, she was as merry
and light-hearted as before, yet there
seemed to have been a tiny barrier
erected between them and, try as he
might, Philip could not break it down.
Last night at the assembly, when all
the world lay bathed in shimmering
moonlight, Philip and Leslie had left
the dancers and strolled through the
scented darkness to a little, t!nklins
fountain. A plain woman is pretty in
the moonlight, but pretty girl like
Leslie Stuart looked almost too beau
tiful. Moved by a. sudden impulse,
Philip caught her hand and breathed
Leslie" Then he stopped the rush
of words that would have followed.
For an instant the girl had sat quite
still and then she spoke lightly of
coming tennis party.
What did she mean? Did she UNDER
stand what he started to say? Did she
mean thus to turn him away from
q ha tn hn
garded him no doubt as an old man.
He must go away. The strain on him
was too much These were the
thoughts crowding through his brain
as he walked through the grounds sur
rounding the home of Leslie Stuart. He
was going to call on her father in re-
lation to a political question, but be-
fore he went into the house he took
a short detour through the grounds
to solve the problem which beset him.
He went on until he reached the
nodding roses. 1t was in this cool
little summer house, all screened with
arbor. that Leslie Stuart then a child
of 10, had told him that she was going
away for five years. He remembered
how the crystal tears had hung upon
her lashes as she said II wish YOU
I
night
He was startled to hear his name
spoken, ,and realized with horror that
Leslie Stuart and her Cousin Frances
We're sitting on the steps not five feet
away. The roses screened him from
their view, and that was his only
means of exit. He would let them
know of his presence. He gave lit
tie, apologetical cough. but the girls
did not hear him and continued:
II wish / knew what had changed
Philip" said Leslie. "He used to be
just like a brother to me, and now"
she sighed, II used to think he liked
me-" she added. little lower.
II know he likes you, Leslie; and
think it is more than liking"
'Then why doesn't he speak?" re-
piled Leslie. mo, Frances. you are
wrong. There was time when
hoped so, but it was vain hope. He
looks upon me as little silly butter
fly of fashion and listens to what
tell him about my dances and parties
only with sufferance." There follow
ed a silence, during which Philip knew
he ought to speak, yet he longed to
hear more. "Frances, I shall be an
old maid"
"You'll be nothing of the kind. dear"
said that knowing little soul. why
don't you accept Terry Haworth?"
~ hate him!" with force.
"Well. then, Mr.. Macomber?"
II hate him, too"
"Now, Charley"
II hate everybody" broke out Les
lie Stuart tiercely.
"YCu don't hate Philip Sturgess, do
you, Leslie?"
"Ah, Philip" The listener felt
strange thrills run through him at the :.
caressing tone in which his name was
spoken. mo, could never hate
Philip, Frances, II l tell you some-
thing will you promise never, never to
tell anybody until I am dead?"
Gross my heart. Oh, Leslie, what
is it?" asked Frances in an awed tone
II must tell somebody. I have told
1t to myself so long that 1t is ancient
history. Ssh! / love Philip Sturgess
Yes, l do. do: and he doesn't like
me at ALL" and she laid her head upon
the step and burst into tears.
Suddenly, like a whirlwind, Philip
came from the arbor and lifting the
sobbinG girl held her close to him,
while he whispered something which
must have been undeniably sweet, for
Leslie raised her face, now cloves
own hue" and answered softly, Eyes"
And while Frances slipped unob-
served away, she asked herself:
Gould leslie have known he was In
there e?"--Philadelphia Item,
DUMP PICKERS DRIVEN AWAY.