Rogue River courier. (Grants Pass, Or.) 1886-1927, 1901-10-10
"You are late," she adds, pleasantly

utldA, az iuOhBnt u Sahht idee gpu
might permit me to stay awhile. Aft
er the crush. don't you know"
He smiles with whimsical entreaty,
and she mods assent as she passes him
on to Mrs. Weston and turns TO the
guests that follow. Mrs. Weston gives
him both small hands with frank gen
erosity, and with strategic movement
brings him into position slightly be-
hind her own plump shoulder and un-
der a big palm tree that shadows them
both.
"You stay there. want to tell you
a story.-Dear Mrs. Fitz Haven't So
delightedl Yes, looks charming does
she not?-There was once man and
a woman who loved each other They
had average sense in most things, but
he was jealous and she was proud
Mrs. Northrop and dear Lillianl So
afraid you were not coming. Yes, aw-
fully warm.-She had some good looks
and some old beaux. Why not? Did
he think nobody could appreciate her
till he met her? And after he had
deigned TO tell her that he looked upon
her with favor, one OF the old beaux
who had hoped TO win her for a long
time, met her in the conservatory at
ball. They always do meet in conserya-
tories in stories-What a sweet gown,
Mrs. Talcott. Imported, OF course!
You lucky womanl-Old cat! She owes
my modiste an awful bill. Where was
/? Oh, and he, the man, saw the old
beau crush her In his arms and kiss
her. She couldn't help II, and besides
she felt sorry for him, for she had just
told him final no and he was all cut
up.--Mr. Hasbrouck, the pink gown
that you are straining your eyes TO find
in this Kaleidoscope is In the tea-room.
Don't mention itl-Well. and he, Of
course, would not ask for an explana-
tion or anything, and courteously re-
leased her. Oh. we'll she released him,
II you tb'rk II sounds better. Same
thirS Bet woman who is not dense
can feel that something Is wrong and
does not need a wan so-er-do.s not
have TO be told some talngs-Where's
that big husband Of yours, Marion?
I'll pick you up tomorrow and well
drive to the club together. want to
talk over that nomination, It's all
wrcng. you know Club'll go to pieces
under that womanl All right, dear.
At three.-And he found that his jeal-
ousy was poor substitute for the
woman who was the one woman in the
world for him, and she smiled proudly
and bravely like gentlewoman, and
ate her heart out In secret. Keep
quietl It's my story. And then some
body. who had no patience with the
two OF them, but who felt sorry and
was soft enough to interfere, because
things got mixed in her own life once
and were not cleared till II was too
late-she put her oar In and tried to
prevent another shipwreck.-Yes, Mrs.
Trevelyan is here, Mr.. Trevelyan. No.
missed Saturdays game. My new
golf suit was not finished. And it's 30
cold and | look fright when I'm cold.
or course, you enthusiasts will play all
winter, supposel-Thank the pow
ers, they've nearly all gone. This CON
yersational strain on my intellect is
awful. Society talk is harder than
Ibsen and Tolstoi. Get Kate glass OF
wine. The Huntleigh girls and Maud
Norris want TO talk art class with me
In the tea-room. That means half an
hour. at least"
Mrs. Stanard turned TO the tall
man bending over her, with the smile
faint on her lips and the eyes strained
and weary.
"Yes, am tired" she said. mo,
do not want anything, only to rest a
moment. The heat has made me dizzy
Where is Betty?"
Betty IL In the tea.room," he said
"she is talking cooking-school. or medi'
sval art, or something OF equally vital
Importance with Miss Norris and the
Misses Huntleigh. Betty told me a
story about a conservatory this even
ing. VIII you let me take you there
now2 ! want to tell It to you. II is
quite interesting. You look very tired
Come!"
=" 'ho 'V"9ei '"'V'y "e P'a'ou NV !"
long low chair and she sank back
with long sigh OF relief The man at
her side leaned forward with his ell
BOWS on his knees SLOWLY closing and
opening her httle empire ian, and In
n steady voice. he told her Mrs Wes'
tons story
Then no turned and looked at hef
pale face with his searching eyes
i was wrong-utterly wrong" h,
said slowly hut have suffered sore
ly' Can you forgive me You are great
enough-for thatY
A Keen anxiety Vibrated through tn,
quiet strength OF the low tones, and
the fan fell to the floor with little
his head on her hands living motionles,
In her lap-and waited