Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1904-05-06

~ uOwn. a DoOK lay on ner knee.
Far away against the long sashes Of
sapphire light the sweep of ragged
Blue Ridge stood listlessly. The river
bottom was violet gray reach of stain
soaked grasses, hung with wreaths Of
trailing Virginia creeper, dabbled in
the summers blood, or as if the peaks
ran down with red wine wasting.
Anne pointed where just below the
river wavered like sheet of spun sill
yer, edged with soaked velvet
'The Indians call it Shennando," she
said, Daughter of the Stars"
He leaned forward and lifted the lit
tie book, its binding of parchment, pale
yellow, like antique ivory. at is a
tale of my own land" he said softly,
"of Normandy, in the old days when
the troubadours sang"
II have not yet read it," she answer
ed. "Tell me the story"
ut is of the son of poor woodcut-
ter. Toiling once by his hut in the for
est, be saw by chance the daughter of
king as she rode past with her caval-
cade. He brought her cup Of water,
and she smiled on him. So fair she was
that he loved her to desperation and
could not rest nor sleep from thinking
Of her face. He Travelled far and came
by night beneath her window and sang
songs to her, songs delicate and beauti-
full, in phrases that only his great love
had taught him, and when he sang he
touched the strings of his own heart.
The lady listened, and her tears fell
down from the window in the palace
wall. She was great lady and lie the
lowest Of the land, and in the hopeless
ness of his passion he sang that he
was prince Of a hostile country, WOO
ing in attire of rags the darling to
whose presence he might not rightly
come. Ills were not like the songs of
the gilded courtiers that focked her
fathers gate. They were more noble
and true, and his love climbed upon
them as If on stairs of gold and drew
her heart out to him over the sill. One
night she slipped out to his arms in the
darkness. Then he knelt on the yellow
forest leaves and told her the truth and
pleaded as excuse his great love. And
be would have gone from her and left
her to go back alone"
"What them" demanded Anne.
"She took his hand and kissed him
and went away with him to his hut in
the Forest
Both were silent moment.
The vivid tints in the sky were pal
Ing. The rivers silver dulled to mauve.
The gloom, I'LL luminous, seemed an
Impatient sutton stealing amorous upon
, the drowsy day. The day stirred,
food as woman drops her hair under
some golden lamp to please lovers
within.
'Think you," he asked then very low,
shat such love might be?"
"'Twas for love of her." she said
softly.
When he spoke again she felt thrill
In his voice.
'Mademoiselle, suppose man loves
with love that fills all the sky; that
for him there was but the one woman
In the world. Suppose she found that he
was not what she had thought him
when she first loved him; that the idol
she had worshiped was just clay. If
he stood mean and small before the
world-before her-but still loving her,
adoring her! If it were not princess
| going to a hut in the forest, but a wo-
man prideful and-and ashamed! Could
she still love him as before? Could
she? Could she?"
Her eyes could not meet his burning
ones.
Monsieur" she said, quivering,
"when a woman loves, she will forgive
neutrality-suspicious. the man she
loves save
| She stopped. There was muf1ied
sound of horse hoofs from the climbing
road.
"Save what?"
"Save lack Of love for her."
| The hoof beats were coming nearer.
| She made desperate effort to compose
herself. He had bent toward her, so
| near she could smell the fragrance Of
hazel bushes in his hair.
'Then it would not matter, she would
not care!' he cried joyously. "He might
be either the prince or the woodcutter,
mademoiselle
The last shaft of the sunlight stun
bled and tangled on her brow. Dark
loomed near. Only gold brush was
laid lightly upon the middle distance.
IF woman loved and was loved so
naught else would count, not even
even if he were despised by all the
world even Her lips were tremu.