The Montgomery advertiser., 1906-05-04
' OUR DAILY SHORT STORY -:-

diamonds that shine with emblematical fires of fawless purity.
 It is wonderfully sweet that my birthday gift shall still be heart--at thirty!
 Five years ago feared the mirror, but today I sit before 1t braveiy. and without a pain.
 It is either that have got used to the lines, or that they have softened. | or--or-- that my anchor has been dropped in calm glad waters where the cruel waves of. f.introspection have no inlet,
 Ii is strange to remember that once I would not even write the dread l word --THIRTY--and here am feeling l young under its score and a half of burdens.
 This morning Doif awoke me with | kiss.
 wake up." my birthday wife" he whispered. standing tall. nronzed and | tweed clad by the bedside. | For moment I could not quite req | lize things. but then suddenly remam- l Der which birthday this waa. "Dolf Dolf," I murmured. with my I face buried in his neck tthat dear l brown bit between his nearly curling hair and coliar). 'T--I am thirty to- days'
 Thirty? And we were married just
  thank God, only four years of our life together have gone by so far. sweet heart!r
 Isn't that joyous. my Birthday Diary?-- joyous that he only reckons years by the length of time they take from our life spent together. I remember how George used to man who had said good-by to her twenties; so what would today have been like if we had not parted? | An, What?
 I hardly know what. The thought has come to me that if could see him just once. I should then know if the red ffes are really out-burned, or if am only living on the peace of reac- I tions
 Doff never mentions the old love story. of which he knows nothing (uot even name, nor an fncidentD ex- cept that 1 was-jilted! But some times when look up suddenly and see his eyes fixed wistfully upon my face, | I feel that he is mutely asking if his I rival still lives in a sacred place cali- cd Memory-land
 | wish I could answer him, but I | cannot--quite! I think I know, but It | is SC dangerous to be sure? A wonnans heart Is such an indefin- | ite thing: she can never be certain of ! 1t as long as the elusiveness of remen- brance alone separates the past from | the present.
 l Tonight we are giving a little "dou- | zaine dinner" because Dolf will never | allow my birthday to go by without | some celebration. Gro me 1t seems | such a childish idea! Why fete peo- | pie because of events over which they | had no control? But then. dear big | bronzed men are always childish) | Erica and Oscar are coming (Erica's | beginning to love dinnersD, Aimee | Belleby and Oh: a telegram! Par | don, one moment, my Birthday Diary, / Only from Dolf saying that as David Hexton is up at the club with 6 | sprained ankle, he will bring another man in his place. How vexing! I do dislike strangers | at dinner! Never mind, the man is sure to be | dineable, or else Dolf wouldn't bring | him home. and I expect everyone else | was enSaged. Another interruptioni The dressmaker this time. My Birth | day Diary, I will return to you later. | 11:3a p m.
 The Birthday dinner is over. the peo-
 pie have gone, and I am sitting with
 the summer night breezes stealing
 through the open window of my bou-
 doir- -ruf1ing the lace and roses on my
 breast
 How strange. how infinitely strange
 it is to think that less than twelve
 hours ago I was wondering, and now -I know.
 | want to write 1t all down. in case
 I forget anything of this wonderful
 peace giving evening; want to al-
 ways remember, so that there can | never be any doubt again.
 Dolf's train was late, so did not see
 him until we were all sittig in the drawing room waiting for the chimes to sound.
 Della" he said. coming to my side and laying his hand on my shoulder in a way that always makes me feel sorry for lonely women; Della. let me in- troduce Mir Dullimore-great friend of Charlie Bensted's, and a scratch golf man. Dullimore, my wife!"
 And thus, after eight years. I touched the hand which had bruised all the youth out of my heart!
 Mir. Dullimore and have met be- fore" I said, finding it strangely easy to he cordial. and to speak without a
 tremor in my voice.
 George bowed low over my hand, and couldn't help noticing his head. I had so adored it's sickness; but now
 unnecessary and unwanted courses. I
 must be that 1 had got so used to
 Dolfs insistent tendency towards sup
 pressed curls and avoidance of gela- tinei
 Five minutes later we were busy
 with hors doeuvres and remarks that
 didn't matter. while George (who sat | kh wmvff