The Virginia enterprise., 1902-11-07
Loves Reward.


81 HILIP had known her ever so
long, ever since she came here, a
80 little, rose-lipped child. He drew
taught her to ride when older, and
when her favor was no longer to be
won by snowy kittens or sugared
sweetmeats he had laid at her feet a
mans strong love, heart that was
brave and loyal and true as steel.
And she-she thought Of the face she
had seen for the first time but one
short month before, the dark, hand
some face that had lighted into look
of involuntary admiration at sight OF
her. the face Of the wealthy city stran-
ger-Edgar Reynolds.
Only one month ago. and already the
lustrous eyes had learned to watch for
his coming, already the girlish heart
had learned to throb at his voice.
And he? No wonder he was fasci-
mated by that fresh young face, and as
the days went by he smiled to see how
the love Of the woman crept into the
innocence Of the child. And so when
Philip Howard asked her for her love
she had no heart to give him. She told
him so with womanly tenderness and
pity, and he had left her presence
very sad, very silent man.
The following day broke fair and
bright, wi.n golden sunlight on the hill
tops and June-time mists in the valley.
Along the white, winding road lead
ing to the village, in the GOODNESS of
the dewy morning, walked Florence
ThOrne.
The birds are singing their mathis in
the tree tops; the brook is laughing as
It ripples DER it's pebbly bed. In the
midst of all this glorious sylvan beau
ty the elasticity of youth reasserts it.
self, and the girls step grows lighter,
her heart happier, till she almost for
gets her little troubles.
In the village she posts her letters
and turns to retrace her steps. She
meets many laborers on their way to
work, and each man touches his hat
and smiles pleasantly on seeing the
bright. pretty face, for. young as she
is. she has spent many hours helping
with kindly Offices and gentle pity
their wives and little ones.
Coming home, she passes house
that stands in it's own grounds-a
house with snowy curtains, stretching
verandas and we'll rolled tennis
ground attached. 1t is far more pre-
tentious than her own cosy house. And
we'll it may be, for it is the boarding
house of this rustic little village. 1t is
filed with fashionables just now who
have fed from the crush and heat of
the city, and, among others, Edgar
Reynolds.
At the gate sudden thought strikes
her. The housekeeper's little child is
very i'll. She will go in and inquire for
her. No one save the servant can be
up yet. She pushes open the gate and
noiselessly fits up the garden path to
the rear of the house.
returning, when she sees futtering on
the path before her a sheet Of creamy
note paper. She picks it up and
glances around. 1t must have blown
from window left open on retiring.
Yes, there is one directly overhead.
She is about to take it to the house.
keeper to return to its owner, when her
eyes chance to fall on two words writ
ten in a firm, bold hand, FLORENCE
Thorne." 1t is but a short letter, and
the girl, forgetting all honor in the in
tensity of her surprise, reads every
word of it almost before she knows
what she has done. 1t runs:
Dear Will-Expect me back on
Thursday. Am tired Of rusticating. 1t
would have been an unbearable bore
were it not for an awfully pretty girl,
flirting with whom has helped to pass
the time. She is the daughter of Allen
Thorne, the millionaire's brother, you
know. Made a fool Of himself by
marrying q school teachers daughter
years ago. Florence Thorne is a shy.
wild rose-poor, pretty and proud as a
princess-but I couldn't afford to ruin
my prospects for her, you know. Much
as 1 could do to keep from losing nv
heart in earnest. Had half mind to
throw over Agatha Vere's thousands.
but-pshaw, the bank account carries
the day."
There is little more relating to busi-
ness matters, then the letter closes
with the hastily scratched signature.
Edgar Reynolds"
The girl stands stiff and rigid in the
bright morning sunlight, great star
tied horror in her eyes. All the pretty.
childish beauty dies in the strained in
tensity of that gaze.
Hark!, Is that some one coming?
For q moment she lifts her hand to
her head in a confused, helpless way.
Then, crushing the letter into her
bosom, she turns and flies fast as her