Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1903-05-27
painfully evident?" said the heartless

How familiar it all seemed. Outside
he caught glimpse of steadily falling
snow between the heavy folds Of the
Venetian curtains, but within all was
summer-like and soothing. A fire Of
driftwood sent a delicious warmth
through the apartment A giant bowl
of ancient delft brimming over with
the delicate La France roses she loved,
offered him their incense generously.
There was her violin in a corner The
night he had learned he had nothing,
and had given her back her freedom,
she had played to him in the freight.
1t was burned into his memory in
effaceably. He saw again her tall,
slight figure in it's clinging, white drap-
cries, her charming face bent softly
above her violin as she played "Du
Bist VIE Fine Blume," and sang the
words almost whisperingly. 1t was a
moment he would never forget, because
it was the moment before he had lost
her forever, and men remember such
things.
How dear and familiar it all was. 1t
would be SO easy, so very easy, to turn
back time for little month to that
moment when he had stood there in
that same place, eager, happy, uncon-
scious, waiting for the sight of her, for
the wonderful sound of her voice. The
warmth, the fragrance, the delightful,
artistic comfort of the room made
harmonious prelude to the bliss of her
arrival. When she entered it was like
flash Of lovely sunlight after dark
ness.
He heard her light footsteps coming
tripping by down the oak staircase.
In a moment he would see her again,
charming, RANT face, so dear, so diff
ferent from all other face, the one face
of his dreams, of his prayers.
He took step toward the door, and
then his eyes fell upon copy of the
Daily Argus lying on table before
him. He turned aside brusquely and
walked quickly to the window, where
tho snow was falling steadily beyond
the Venetian curtains. But of the
weather he was quite unconscious. He
saw suddenly the busy, mask-like face
of the city editor, the hard, white glare
of the green-shaded electric lamp cir
cling down upon his bent head and be-
meath the pulsing thunder of his brain
he heard the city editors voice saying:
you know, Mr.. Sheridan, we news
reporters are obliged to belong to
the neuter gender"
He must never forget those words
again.
ooh, Tom dearest" said the voice
ent from all other voices in the world,
II really began to think you never
We're coming to see me again"
There was o curious mixture of joy
and pain and bubbling, irrepressible
laughter in her tone. Sheridan turned
away from the dreary reality of brown
stone houses frowning grimly in the
falling snow, back to the enchanting
but forbidden delight of the room so
summer-soft and soothing. He dared
not lift his eyes to hers, but he said
quite firmly in view of the mad beat
ing of his heart:
81 have been sent up by the Daily
Argus to interview you about your en-
gagement Miss Winterton.
"Oh, indeed" said the girl, smiling
happily, you may tell them it's quite
true"
ooh, Mario1!" burst forth poor
Sheridan, helplessly in spite of his
fixed determination to merge his iden-
tity in that of his paper. at isn't,
it can't be true?"
Eyes, it is, dearest" she said going
straight up to him and putting her
hands on his broad shoulders. you
ought to know it's been true for nearly
three months, Tom"
But l gave you back your freedom,
you know" gasped the young man in
bewilderment.
81 know you tried to-" she whisper
ed to his coat; but, you foolish Tom,
didn't you notice that | didn't take it?"
The editorial rooms of the Daily Ar
gus were unenriched by the presence of
young Sheridan on the day OF his un-
successful attempt to merge his identi-
ty in that of the paper. The city edi-
tor was in very bad humor on account
of this extraordinary fact, as all the Of
flee boys could bear testimony. An en-
tire column had been reserved conf
IDENTIFY for Sheridan's story, and as a
result of his default column of ell
derby tid-bits had disgraced the even
ing edition.
The temperature was far below zero
on the following morning when the
young reporter came in.
Sheridan" began the city editor,
sternly, where is your story?"
WELL" confessed the young man,
flushing with the consciousness of
guilt, ''she admitted she's engaged, but
it's not to be announced yet. And it is
not the English duke, after all"
who is it, then? Did you get his