Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1904-06-25
Their interrupted
Love Story
By KEITH CORD
Copyright, 1908, by T. C. Mcclure

used to station herself behind the stone
fence that divided their grounds from
the road to see the boy pass by. Reg
ularly at o'clock five days in the week
she was at her post, peeping over the
fence very cautiously lest the boy him
self should discover her.
There was something about this par
ticular boy that she liked. His eyes
were as blue as those of Gladys Ara
bella, her favorite blond doll. That in
itself was enough to draw her stormy
gaze like a magnet. But there were
other things beside. There was the
easy way that he sat on his pony, there
was the way he pulled his cloth cap
rakishly to one side, there was-well,
there was daring, dashing, fascinat-
ing something about him even at four
teen that proclaimed him one Of the
conquerOrs.
For weeks she had paid him the ST.
lent homage Of that trip to the fence
each morning. Then one day, waxing
careless from long security, her black
head and big dark eyes appeared just
above it. He slackened his pony and
stared at her with open curiosity.
"Hello, there! What you staring at,
sissy?" he called out with boyish rough
ness. The head disappeared.
He waited moment, but as she fail
ed to reappear he dashed off down the
road laughing.
After that, it was his delight to catch
her watching him. He would turn at
the most unexpected moments to see
if he could surprise her. But when,
once in awhile, he succeeded in getting
glimpse of the gypsylike head and
the fiery dark eyes his brusque Hi
there, sissy! See anything green?" al
ways had the same effect. She dropped
out of sight.
1t was private school for boys kept
by an old friend Of the family. So her
parents sought place for her there
when it was necessary for them to sail
without their small daughter.
For her the excitement Of being
placed in the school where the boy
went each day was delicious. They
had known each other for year-that
is, she had watched him and he had
known that she was there.
"My eye! It's the girl who's always
peeking over the fence" he remarked
to his chum at his first glimpse of the
new pupil. Isn't she a regular In
dian, thought! and he gazed curiously
at the straight, shining black hair and
the black eyes, He did not mention to
his chum that he liked shiny black
hair and eyes like big, dark stars.
After awhile he looked toward her
and smiled, a foolish friendly smile.
Instead of meeting this overture with
the ladylike graciousness that her
training had taught, she made up a
face at him. Guess he wouldn't think
now that she liked him-that horrid
boy!
= For some time after this he ignored
her, but at last he impulsively prof
fered her a stick of hOarhound when
they met in the corridor one day.
With a stamp of her foot she threw
it to the ground. IF your mother
makes you eat hoarhound, eat it your
self I'm not going to eat itv' she
flashed out with spirit. Then, in a
tumult of happiness, she fed, leaving
the astonished boy gazing after her
with an open mouth.
"Spitfirev' was his greeting when
next they met.
Thus the ice was broken. Morning
after morning now he came to school
with some offering for the girl. Often
it was a bunch Of roses begged from
the gardener. "The prettiest ones you
have' he would command important
~, never guessing that their fresh
beauty was instantly quenched in the
Each time that she lifted the lid to put
In a fresh bunch the exquisite scent
of the withered ones floated out into
the room. Years afterward the drift
ing. scent of roses would bring before
her the laughing face Of the boy.
Once, indeed, it did more. 1t was
a moonlit night in California. Propped
up by pillows of mystical, Japanese
design, she lounged in the oriental
chair that was her special delight.
Her companion leaned toward her
and began to speak in low, eager
voice. His words Of love seemed nat
ural-a part of the breathless enchant-
ment of the time and place. Why not
decide her fate now and have it done?
Borne on the light breeze that ruf1led
the leaves of the toyon tree at her
side, breath from the rose garden
brushed across her face. A subtle
change came over her.
mo, no, Hugh. Please stop, dear,
please!' she pleaded. 'I'm so sorry,
but can't say yes to you. can'tv'
She could not tell why, but it was
the scent of the roses that had decided
her.
The old boy and girl affair had died
the usual death of such attachments.
He had gone to college and she to a
finishing school. They had sworn new
er to forget and to write twice a week.