The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1904-08-11
HIS OWN
HEART
By Oliver L. Mitchell
Copyright, 1901, by K. 4. Whitehead

| I1OW DTluSe III Tue luEllly al was
pleased to introduce him to his only
sister, Joanna.
Hes all right, Jo," Phil said, "and |
hope you won't break his heart badly
enough to keep him from finishing the
story I'm to illustrate-if you'll pose
for me-"
Joanna's blue eyes danced-then, and
a little later when Phil made an In
sufficient excuse and left them alone
| Howbridge felt as If he had been told
to play with a strange little girl. Jo-
anna was quite at ease. The mischiev-
Gus freedom of her glance contradicted
the reserve of her bearing. Howbridge
| decided that she was fit to be the hero
Inc of an unusual story. She was blond
and beautiful and magnificently tall.
Are you waiting for me to say l en-
| joyed your last book ?" she questioned
at last
"Follow your conscience, Miss Tren-
ton. But did Phil make you read it,
| wouldn't mind knowing whether you
| cried at the right places. Did your
He leaned toward her His strong face
was clean shaven. His gray eyes were
noncommittal. He had the sad mouth
| and gentle manners of humorist.
"Oh, | didn't read It," she said.
"Why not?"
Because | did read your first book.
| don't like your women. I'd like to be
polite, but you mentioned my con-
science"
Don't mind my feelings and tell me
what is wrong with the women in my
tales"
They are all right. It's you. You
make them do what they never would
do of their own free will. Now, you
married Fanny to that Burson. He
wasn't even interesting" He waited
for her to continue, his fertile fancy
lifting literary situations about her per-
sonality.
You can't know women very well,
do you? You're too she paused
roguishly.
Too young?' he hazarded.
~ don't know how old you feel,
but it's not age that gives insight, is
it! BY the way, Mr.. Howbridge, where
do you get your material? For your
new story, for instance, that's an
nounced for September The title
isn't it weak? And how do you know
What Life Is Made Off"
Suppose | came down here just to
find out?' he said mysteriously. per
haps you can show me? They say
that women know The story is hard
ly begun. Can't you find me model
for heroine? 1t would be charity
to the reading public"
Joanna unused.
There aren't ten interesting women
in this neighborhood, not even count
ing my sister-ln-law''-
And you"
THANK you, since l couldn't say it
myself
Their conversation was cut short
by the abrupt entrance of Phil and his
wife, who liked her husbands friends
and had invited Howbridge to spend
his six weeks vacation and write his
story at The Place Apart" as they
called their summer home, which was
near. Phil was an Illustrator, and be-
tween him and Mrs. Phil. who had
been an interior decorator the cottage
was a thing to dream about artistic
ally. They had a keen sense of what
not to put into a house. Joanna, who
was practical lived with them, did
the housekeeping, which she loved
posed for her brother and roamed the
woods with her big st. Bernard dog.
Howbridge was given room, alb
solute disposal Of his time and pot
luck in family that had all the
charms and none of the discomforts Of
camping. Joanna treated him like an
amusing playmate, leased him about
his literary distractions and his writ
ing and pretended to search for mod
ell for his heroine She knew little of
books, but could caricature effective
ly, sing like a thrush and play the
piano with musicianly instinct. She
was twenty-five and had always lived
He was thirty three and had always
written-with moderate success.
Howbrldge studied joanna imper-
sonally, as he had studied all girls
since his betrothed married another
man while Howbr.dge was at college
dreaming and writing her sentimental
love letters. The other man had al
ways wanted her, so he stayed on the
spot saw her every day and did
things till he got her-which taught
Howbridge lesson. He woke up,
and after that his characters were
book.
Joanna had no heart history. Men
who saw much OF her did. They, al
ways to her surprise, fell in love With
her and to their own surprise married
other women and sighingly remem-
bered her as a lost love when they had
indigestion or lost out in some prof
ect. Joanna liked men In a comradely
way and never firted for she was
very sincere and hated TO hurt any
thing Besides. she wanted to keep
ner heart all in one piece,
She and Oliver walked and drove
and canoed together and talked much
about nothing in particular and said
lot that they did not mean, which
was a sure method of learning each
)ther's tastes. She ridiculed his com
monplace title and began posing TO
Phil for the illustrations.
Howbridge tried TO get down to work
on his story, which was to be OF no
great length and which ordinarily he