The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1902-09-11

ceed, and so came to Chicago. Well,
I've done something. I've hung one
/ picture and I'm making expenses"
| still it's n long road, Louise, end
all up the hill"
/ Il know Ii, Bruce"
II remember the little girls quite
well. 1 fear they will have long
wait"
Il fully realize that would be true
should l depend wholly on art. But
l have discovered l have other re-
sources. Perhaps, Bruce, there was
something in me, after all, to war
rant your devotion to me in camp
you engineers, l mean. i am en-
gagged to a Mr.. Haverknap, a wealthy
patron of the institute, living in Hyde
Park. He has persuaded me to for
sake my undoubted career in the
field of art-undoubted in his mind
and become the light of his life, the
gentle guardian of his happiness,
and the stewardess of his thousands.
or course it was n great sacrifice,
but l consented to make it. He is
80 and generous. Beth and Clara are
already making preparations to be
in Chicago this winter. IL will take
great load off papa's shoulders"
i realized l had spoken rapidly. 1t
was case where l must rush the
thing through lest / should stumble
in the recital. Bruce lighted his
third cigarette. He did not speak for
some moments.
81 suppose" he said, at length,
you will make more money in this
way, and-it seems respectable"
That was exactly what was think
ing, but l burst out in defense:
"Iou have certainly forgotten the
barrenness, the lonliness of those
sage brush ranches! You've forgot
ten how the dust sits into the cor
ners and crevices of the houses, max
ing every one irritable and miserable!
You've forgotten the distance from
civilization, the discomforts, the pow
erty. You have forgotten"
II have forgotten everything"
Bruce interrupted, looking through
the tobacco smoke with half closed
eyes. Il have forgotten everything
but the glorious sun setting behind
those low western hills, lighting up
the plains with warm, yellow splen-
dor. / can see n girls figure as she
stands rapt in the strange mysteries
of nature. She is pulsing with life,
truth, beauty. She has no designs.
She is not calculating. She could not
deceive. She is true as the nature
of which she is n part. But there.
We are in Chicago. This marriage
takes place-when did you sav?"
realized had turned deathly pale.
My heart beat wildly. Words came
to my lips, but I could not make a
sound. Bruce had painted a picture
which brought back such flood of
memories as to oyerpower me. He
did not mean to be cruel, but
At last l heard myself speaking as
from a distance.
"The third of September" 1t was
now the last of June.
Bruce took my last match and left
without a word.
Our rooms were opposite, and grad
ually we drifted into the old habit
of spending much of our time to-
gether. We breakfasted at little
cafe, lunched in my room on buns and
tea, dined at the same cafe-it was
popular with the students. and cheap
and between times worked as we
had done during our first acquain-
tance. 1t seemed but a day since
we had parted.
Bruce was mystery to me in those
days. He didn't once refer to my en-
gaCCment nor demonstrate with me
concerning my coming marriage. l
often wondered what went on in his
brain, and if he had entirely for
gotten. | wished he would speak
freely with me.
1t was the second day of Scptcm-
ber. My leave taking preparations
were under way. l was taking down
a group Of water colors, sketches of
the lake in different moods, that
Rrucc and | had done together, when
he put in his appearance.
Can ! help you?" he asked, with
unusual tenderness.
There is little to do" answered
in voice strained and unnatural
He went to work, and when we had
everything packed he took up my
sailor hat.
Come" he said, "our last day to-
gether."
But l mustn't haven't time" /
protested weakly.
"Our last day. Louise" he repeated.
] hesitated a moment, then silently
pinned on my hat and we set out.
where shall il be-" Bruce asked,
as we paused at the foot of the steps.
Lincoln park, the north shore, or
row on the lake with lunch in the
woods"
THE lake" said. ! knew we
were playing with fire. but said to
my conscience, just this once, this
one last day. and then"
l dared not picture the future.
For Bruce and ] had loved each other